I learned to juggle when I was a 14 year old high school student, and have been performing somewhat regularly since I was a 17 year old college freshman.  Since 1995 I have been training middle school students in juggling and illusions and taking them out to perform regularly, too.  I have had my two oldest daughters come through my juggling club, and of course all three of our girls have been regulars with our family ministry since they were very young.  Currently, our 12 year old, Rose, is in my class's troupe and is our only daughter at home.  She is quickly developing her juggling skills and has been a showman for as long as anyone can remember.

So yesterday it came as no surprise when she and her friend, Corban, decided to put a routine together for a local community talent show: the Lakes Region's Got Talent.  They went to Corban's house after school to develop their own routine.  I didn't realize that the auditions were the same evening. 

Of course I was proud of their ambition, especially in an area that has been such a big part of my life all these years, but I was a little annoyed that they wouldn't take any of my input.  Between the two of them, they can juggle balls, rings, diabolos, devil sticks and Rose has been doing the balance board since second grade.  Also, anyone would agree that the judges would love it if they worked in an illusion with the rabbit or doves.  But they were quick to disregard my advice ( What do I know; I've only been juggling longer than the sum of their ages?) They wanted to do the routine their way... no props other than tennis balls.

Once we heard from Corban's mother that the auditions were last night and parents were allowed into the otherwise closed try outs, we headed straight to the local elementary school where the auditions were held.  We were greeted at the door by the two girls, both beaming with excitement.  "Do you want to see our routine?" Rose asked.  Of course we did, but silently I was thinking, if only they listened to my input earlier in the day, they could do something really special. 

They started their music, "Get Your Party On" by  (ugh) Hannah Montana, and began to juggle.  Nice choreography, smart sequence of tricks... Hey, I didn't even know she could do that trick!  And since when could they do partner tricks?

In a few minutes they were called to audition, and they nailed it.  They were charming and confident when the judges asked them a few brief questions, and I realized that it was important to them to do it themselves.  Rose wasn't just an extension of my performances, and Corban wasn't just part of my class's program.  They created this themselves.  My wife and I just watched silently from the back of the room. 

They made it through the auditions to the first round of actual competition.  This will be held at the local movie theatre, which is actually a beautiful venue for live shows as well.  I've always wanted to perform there.  Looks like Rose and Corban will beat me to it.  It looks like they didn't need my micromanaging to get this far.  It looks like my role is becoming more that of coach.  Of course, this is not the first step in this direction, and it certainly won't be the last.  Since each of the girls could crawl, they have exerted their independence little by little, demanding, more and more, that Sue and I sit in the back row and watch silently, fully expecting the cheers and hugs when they succeed, and our shoulders to cry on when they don't. 

We also learned yesterday that our 20 year old, Naomi, has been offered a job as administrative assistant in the church in Spanish Harlem where she is currently doing her college internship.  For the first time ever, it looks like she'll not be with us this summer.  Out oldest, Jo, is graduating from college in May.  Her life goal is to work with AIDS orphans in eastern Africa.  Sue and I really do like the view from the back of the room, even if it seems a little too far from the stage their lives are being played out on.  There's still plenty of room on our shoulders when they need them.  But mostly, we are fully preparing and fully expecting to cheer.  Often and loudly.