But she does. And loves it. A bit nervous tonight but smiling. I think I juggle things. This one. She handled a main part at church tonight. Will sing with her choir another night. And will perform twice more in drama roles before week’s end. All the while practicing piano, memorizing for a recital next week. It’s beyond me. I couldn’t do it.
The boy that is like me leans close to watch. He really wouldn’t relish being on stage. Like me, he likes behind the scenes. The technical parts. He’s talented that way.
Big sister. She’s the one that blazed the trail. Playing parts in church productions. Joining the homeschool drama troupe. Before week’s end she’ll perform four times. Twice as Mary.
Theater, skills and the technical come from his side of the family. Rolled up into one man. Talents I see passed on. But there are others.
Yesterday. Nana’s art show. So inspired, she didn’t even stop when we came in but went straight to the pastel sticks. A love of art sparked by the love of a grandmother.
Talents. These all make me ponder the youngest two. What loves will they develop? Those God-given ones.
One, age five, will dress up as angel this week. Sparkles and wings. And always moving her feet.
I’m in awe when I count the talents He’s given. Amazed at the differences. (#2111-2124)
And when I stop and I count all these as blessings. As gifts. I am also in awe of…
1. a pair of robins that perch feet away – through the window’s glass – they pause and I catch my breath.
2. devoted church folks, practicing and encouraging.
3. the treat of a hot cafe mocha.
4. a quiet 20 minutes on a Sunday morning before everyone else is up.
5. his patience and calm voice on the phone as he explains the traffic situation.
6. girl braids and easy hair dos.
7. two new church ornaments for the Christmas tree. Smiling faces of two youngest. One on an angel shape, one on a green tree.
8. hearing “yes m’am”
9. non-stop Christmas music.
Counting the gifts, the talents…all God-given.
Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and comes down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow of turning. James 1:17