Audience.

I used to wonder what it must feel like to receive a standing ovation. I’ve pictured in my mind the euphoric sound of roaring crowd members jumping from their chairs to their two feet, drowning out the background music and the sound of my heart beating louder than I’d like to say. I’ve considered what it must feel like to watch fresh roses and daisies and tulips flood the stage while I close my eyes and take my final bow.

I think the seasons of our lives can be compared to the changing scenes in a play, some exciting and some rather painful to watch. Some remind us of blooming leaves on a tree basking in the warm spring sunlight, others remind us of barren branches shivering in brisk winter winds.

Far too many times I’ve caught myself striving for the applause of humanity or for a simple pat on the back from the friends standing to my left and right. I have images of their expectations imprinted on the walls of my mind, and I’ll do, say, or change all that I am and all that I can to meet them in two seconds or less. In my desperate search for the “congratulations” and the empty “well-done’s,” one Member of the audience slowly disappears underneath the clouds of conversations and the hoards of bellowing laughter. He's a gentleman, He doesn't push, pull, shout, or glare, but always remains unwaveringly present and steadfast in His promises.

“For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.” (Romans 8:38-39)

We have a Father who cares and who longs to stand by us in the middle of the vague ambiguity. He’ll be there, eagerly resting on the edge of His seat with His eyes glued to the stage, waiting for the next scene to begin. He’s the only consistent audience member we have; and when the scenes turn from exciting to dull, and restless feet begin to shuffle out the back doors of our lives, He’ll lean back into His chair as a quiet smile spreads across His face. Though some seasons seem wasted and fruitless, He knows of the thrill and the joy that’s patiently awaiting us in the one to come. And when the new come and the old go, there He’ll be sitting in the same chair waiting for the curtains to draw once more.

So my prayer is that we would be a people that embrace our every season, no matter how messy they may look. I pray that we dance across the stage with more joy in our hands and more laughter in our pockets, knowing that our Father is directing the scene and season we happen to find ourselves in. I pray that we step back and acknowledge the fact that He’s the Author of the entire play, He knows every step we’ll take, every shortcoming and every climax, every tear marked by pain and every tear moved by joy. Although daunting at times, its not always a matter of the terrain to your left and to your right. Sometimes it’s a matter of who you have standing by your side or who you have sitting in your audience—and I guarantee you the only One who matters isn't moving from His chair, not even an inch.

words by Sarah Mohan and photo by Arianna Taralson