Savoring the Performance of a Lifetime

On the day after Thanksgiving every year, my family and I begin to turn our attention to the next MAJOR event in the Harris household: saving the dates! Who’s performing? When? (And now we have to ask in what state (with the older two in school in Tennessee.) Where is each of us supposed to be on any given day (and how many tickets do we need, etc.)? And finally, WHY did we accept invitations to participate in so many events in a few short weeks?

Thankfully for us, the commotion has calmed down a bit since the older two starting driving. But as a family, we still try to support each other’s events. So although we aren’t necessarily driving to and from countless rehearsals, we’re still on the front row on opening night, so to speak. We’re still each other’s greatest fans. After all, we’re family.

As family, we’re derived from something far greater than genes. As family, we’re committed to something far greater than individuals. As family, we’re united for something far greater than perhaps any one of us could understand.

Though all of us have very different personalities, preferences, and professions, at the end of the day, the very core of each of us is the same. We all want to be affirmed. We all want to be appreciated. We all want to be loved. We need to be loved. We have to be loved.

Yet how do we address this basic need for love in each of us? How do we address this need with people who look, think, and act differently than us? How do we address this need in others when we, ourselves, don’t feel adequately “loving” on any particular day? How do we address this basic need with perfect strangers? Is “stranger” love possible?

I believe "stranger" love is entirely possible when we consider the definition of the word strange: unexpected, extraordinary, surprising, astonishing, and funny (or amusing). I believe this is what is experienced each time a performer seeks to please an audience with an outstanding performance or especially moving rendition of a song. What transpires with each of these performances is the essence of engaging grace. It is a deep desire on the part of the performer to affirm the unspoken expectations of the audience.

When my older daughter was seven, she played the part of “Gretl” in a community theatre production of “The Sound of Music” in Asheboro, North Carolina. As the smallest of the children in the play, she would be the last to sing in the “So Long, Farewell” song (which included an octave jump in pitch). Unnerved by her mission, she proceeded to center stage to sing. As a nun waiting in the wings, I peered out from behind the curtain to see only the spotlight shining down on the side of her face as she began to sing, “The sun has gone to bed and so must I. So long, farewell, auf wiedersehen, goodbye. Goodbye. Goodbye. Goodbye!”

What happened when she finished is a moment in time that I will savor forever. As if rehearsed for weeks on end, the audience responded with an audible sigh of approval as her little voice seamlessly ascended the octave. As she proceeded to wave her way off the stage, the audience applauded their gratitude for her performance. Some even waved back at her as if a part of the play themselves. Unknowingly, they WERE a part of the performance of a lifetime for me as I watched this interplay between strangers and family.

This display between strangers and family is the epitome of the next essential element needed for engaging grace: affirmation. Affirming others (even strangers) is vital in the art of engaging grace. Seeking to engage others with affirming words and gestures of kindness will always pave the way to engaging encounters that we can savor for the moment and maybe even for a lifetime.