Looking at our tickets, J 113 and 115, Mr. Q and I make our way down the isle to take our seats (which actually weren’t too shabby!). As we chatted for a few minutes with the in laws sitting next to us, the lights in the auditorium dimmed and the orchestra began its prelude to the Nutcracker. The concert hall was filled with proud parents, excited family, and supportive friends to watch their dancers perform in this timeless ballet. As the curtain raised, the ballerinas performed their dances that they had worked so tirelessly on for months. You could hear the chattering of Moms and Dads pointing out their dancer and eyes locked on every move they made. I don’t know what was sweeter, the little ballerinas in mice costumes or their parents squeeling with excitement! Intermission came. As I was thumbing through my program, the man sitting next to me asked if I had a dancer in the production. I told him I did and my daughter’s part. I then proceeded to ask him the same question, “Do you have a daughter performing?” He paused for a moment, took a deep breath, and with a twinkle in his eye, he said, “yes I do.” With just those three tiny words, the weight of humble pride and love he had for his daughter was tangable. He proceeded to share with me that his daughter was a senior this year and this would be her last year in the Nutcracker Ballet. I asked him what her practice schedule had been like to get to where she is now. He said that aside from her normal ballet class 3 times a week and school work, her Saturdays were entirely devoted to perfecting her given role in the Nutcracker. She would start off every Saturday at 1pm and would not be home until 10pm that night. This young woman would come home absolutely exhausted. Her body sore with blisters and bruises. Including perhaps thoughts of inadequacy to fulfill her part. Yet...this young woman never gave up. She was happy. She knew she could do it. She wanted to do it. She knew her teachers, and most importantly, she knew her mother and father believed in her. It seemed with every detail he shared about his daughters journey, he beemed, knowing she has done her very best. As act two began and the ballerinas took to the stage again. This proud Dad leaned over and pointed out his daughter as she performed. She was beautiful. She danced with humble confidence that she could do what she had set out to do. The ballet ended and everyone was on their feet cheering for their dancer and praising them for their performance…including this father. His eyes welling up with tears. She did it. She did her very best and he was pleased. In a time, long before ours, another multitude gathered together around the temple in the land of Bountiful. They were “marveling and wondering one to another.” They were talking to one another about “this Jesus Christ, of whom a sign had been given concerning his death.” And as they talked with each other they heard a voice. The people didn’t understand the voice and yet it wasn’t harsh or loud but a small voice that… “did pierce them that did hear to the center, insomuch that there was no part of their frame that it did not cause to quake; yet, it did pierce them to the very soul and did cause their hearts to burn.” The voice came a second time and they still did not understand, and again a third time. Finally, at the third time: “...they did hear the voice, and did open their ears to hear it; and their eyes were towards the sound thereof; and they did look steadfastly towards heaven, from whence the sound came…and it said unto them: The people gazed into the heavens and saw a man, this Beloved Son, descending out of heaven. “Behold I am Jesus Christ, whom the prophets testified shall come into the world. I am the light and the life of the world; and I have drunk out of the bitter cup which the Father hath given me, and have glorified the Father in taking upon me the sins of the world…” As the ultimate and perfect example to all of us, Jesus Christ, came into this world, focused, to do one thing…fulfill His divine and saving mission here on earth. And He did. In expressing His deep and loving gratitude for His Son, our Father proclaims: “Behold my Beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased…” As each of us has been sent down by our Father, to fulfill our own divine mission on earth, sometimes I feel like that ballerina. After giving each day all I have, I am tired, exhausted and perhaps a little mentally battered and bruised. But somehow I make it to that next practice. I think that comes from the simple truth that I know deep in my heart…I have a Father in Heaven who is watching me. Cheering for me and loving me regardless of my bumps and bruises. As I try my hardest to do my best in this earthly performance…I can’t help but feel like everything is going to be alright.
This is what I am grateful for this Thanksgiving season. I pray that when that final curtain closes, I can know in my heart I have given it my all. And perhaps hear those words from my Father in Heaven, “Behold, my daughter, in whom I am well pleased…”
2 Comments
Sherrie
11/22/2015 10:11:30 pm
Thank you Ashley for this moving analogy; touching & true. I've really enjoyed reading your thoughts- keep sharing your beautiful gift.
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Meghan
11/23/2015 01:28:25 pm
I love reading your post! Such great thoughts of what this life is really all about. Thank you for taking the time to write. Loved the ballerina analogy.
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