An uproarious round of applause welcomed her to the stage. From the audience, my stomach was in knots for her. It’s one thing to be sincere and forthright on paper, but in person I’m tongue-tied more often than not. This middle child of mine–with her whisper of a voice–so much like me in that way. But on Sunday she stepped up on a platform in front of a crowd and, in response to the applause, raised her hands, motioning for the congregation to step it up a notch. And when we did, she laughed–genuine–in response.
Certain things I expect that my children will do well. Whether through training or genetics, some things seep in. I’m not surprised when an English teacher sends an email of praise or that my tidy tendencies are reaping made beds and organized closets in the generation behind. These things I expect. And while I, of course, am proud of these accomplishments, I’m not surprised by them.
This past Sunday was Student Sunday at church–one of two Sundays per year in which the youth leads all aspects of the service. Kennedy was asked to deliver the announcements. All told she was in front of the crowd for only a matter of moments, but if you ask me the time she spent on stage matters less than the fact that she was.
It’s comforting to watch them excel in the same areas as me. And ever so humbling to watch as they stretch beyond.