Five years ago this very day, my voice debuted on The Gloria Sirens. My first post, “When God Winks,” focused on the way I saw God answering my motherly prayers about my oldest daughter, who was a freshman in high school. She had a beautiful voice, but because she became a little too immersed in her more challenging roles, I didn’t know if a career in the performing arts was for her. A series of kindnesses ensued which ranged from a Tallahassee friend sending us an article about the field of Music Therapy to a local friend letting us know about an available piano which my daughter could use to help her study music theory and become proficient in a secondary instrument. I interpreted those kindnesses as “God winks”–those coincidences in life that are ultimately not coincidences but signs pointing to God’s plan for my–or in this case my child’s–life.

Today, as this fifth-year-anniversary post publishes and I work, every day, to let go of my need for control over everything and follow God’s lead, I see Him sending me everything from millisecond twitches to slow-motion stage winks.

My five-years-ago high school freshman is now a sophomore in Florida State University’s Music Therapy program–the program my Tallahassee friend sent us the article about. She completed her background check a few weeks ago, started her site observations yesterday, and is on track to graduate in two years with a double major in Music Therapy and Psychology. She has not taken a Performing Arts track, but is focused on the way she, through music, can help people with autism, PTSD, anxiety, depression, Alzheimer’s, and other physical, emotional and mental health issues.

A long time ago, when my daughter was thinking of abandoning the performing arts but worried I’d be disappointed, I told her, “Sweetheart, if I only ever heard you sing in the shower for the rest of my life, that would be enough for me.” And I stand by that statement. I would happily catch only snippets of her singing if it meant she is happy and doing what God has called her to do.

Nevertheless, I’m finding it hard to contain my excitement because, in the next two months, I’m going to get to watch her perform on stage twice. This week she has a solo in her Andean Ensemble Showcase. And because our school changed its Spring Break to more closely align with other schools this year, I can drive up to see her. Did time line up this way coincidentally? Or is this a millisecond twitch?

No matter how it’s interpreted, this will be the first time I get to see her perform onstage in two years–partly because her ensemble performance schedule has not lined up with my time off, and partly because she hasn’t been pursuing performance opportunities the way she did in high school. I am beyond proud of her for deciding to focus on getting acclimated to college and focusing on her academics. But I have been a little sad because I have missed seeing her shine onstage. Seeing as how she was in every school musical performance from seventh through twelfth grade (even during the pandemic year she performed over Zoom), had her own solo performance showcase, and that I was present for every show, I got to spend a lot of time basking in her talent. Over these past two years, this lack of opportunity to see her perform created a bit of a hole in both my schedule and my heart. So having my time off line up with her performance week feels like a wink to me.

But her second performance–well, I don’t know how else to see it. Through a series of not-coincidences, my daughter auditioned for the role of Mary in an event the Diocese of St. Petersburg is putting on called Roar of the Rosary. Last week we found out she got the part. When she first told me about it, I imagined it as it a small parish event–like in a social hall. No big deal, I thought, because she’s been playing the role of Mary in our church’s Vacation Bible School for years.

But when she sent me the link to the event so I could get (free) tickets, I learned it’s being held in the biggest theater of our city’s Performing Arts Center, on the main stage where the visiting Broadway productions perform. She’ll be on the same stage where we watched Hamilton, Dear Evan Hansen, Come From Away, Hadestown, and so many others.

My daughter is going to play Mary, the Mother of God, Our Lady, on the Friday before Mother’s Day on a Broadway-like stage. So much for being called away from performing. He is just calling her to perform as He sees fit, and she is answering that call. I cannot think of a more beautiful way for Him to give me confidence in His plan.

As my younger daughter is about to graduate high school and join her sister at university in the fall, I am beyond grateful to see God’s hand in our past, present, and future. I know that as long as I continue to hand everything I am or will be over to Him, He will continue to be my comfort in sorrow, my help in struggle, and my joy in life itself–and I will gratefully continue to share all these moments with you.

Thank you, my friends and my readers, for being the best audience a writer could ask for over the past five years. Here’s hoping for many, many more.