When your then 5-year-old son tinkers with the idea of dance classes, you never know where it might go. You wrestle with your own stereotypes of what should interest a little boy, you do your best to protect him from the girls’ taunting that, unfortunately, is the sinful nature of children, and you hope for the best.
That was us some 13 years ago.
This weekend, we traveled to see our son in his first “official” performance of his freshman year in college. As I watched him glide majestically, I kept seeing that little kid in his white t-shirt and a pair of stretch pants that weren’t even sold in the boy’s section of the store. But…that was then. This is now, when recognition and support are no longer the concerns of our heart.
In a rare moment, I will allow the pictures to be what they are–worth thousands of words.
It’s hard not to be “majestic” with such beautiful costumes.
Whenever our children leave home, we have always prayed for them to be surrounded by people who follow Christ, and who will represent iron sharpening his iron. This young gentlemen and two ladies have become, in conjunction with him, a group of friends that I affectionately refer to as the “four musketeers.”
And no post about his dance career would be complete without a mention of this lady, his first dance instructor, who made the drive and hung out with us just like the extended family she has become.
Even the campus ministry pastors came out to support the kids, and it was a beautiful thing.
A fun ride (even though it poured rain on the return), a fantastic performance, and the gathering of friends, old and new. We could not be more blessed.