The dance

The friends, the laughter, the music swirling through the air. Playfully poking fun at one another when we forget a step. The notes that force our feet to move, keeping them from standing still, calling us to join in the fun. The bits of conversations as we make patterns with our feet. We end up back where we started, for it is not so much the destination as the journey (unless you get hopelessly lost and ruin the dance). I don't know what it is, but there is something there that keeps one coming back for more. You can come every week and never tire, always counting the days until the next time. The dance, that unique marriage of music and step, there's nothing like it. There is something here, perhaps just a small glimpse of the larger dance of which we are a part.

Freedom

In the corner of her eye, a waterfall is forming. She is weary. Her heartsong has become a whispered lament. She seeks to take refuge in a secret place, hidden from the cares of the world, from the hurt and the pain and the anguish. She runs fast and hard, but no matter how hidden the place she hides or how far she travels, it is always right behind, haunting her every step and stealing every happiness. Collapsed in a corner, the weight is nearly unbearable as it presses in and threatens to crush her. These chains cannot be shaken. This burden cannot be loosed. There is only One that has the key that will fit the locks. He is ready and willing to help, but He waits for the willing heart. Run to Him, dear child, and He will free you.

Perseverance

Tired and weary, the lonely soul continues on. Thirsty, exhausted, threadbare, with no oasis in sight. Straight and narrow the seemingly endless road stretches on and on and on. Everything says to turn back, to give up hope. But the soul trudges on, for in her hand is a love letter, written promises of something better that are just out of sight, signed by the One that loves her dearly. She just has to trust, to believe, to continue on, to persevere.

The Silence is Broken!

My, my...it has been awfully silent on here for the past month. Perhaps because the past few weeks have been intensive, to say the very least. And there are two more weeks left before some respite, recharging, and reorganizing.

The pain, hurt, tears, frustrations, heartache: it is preparing us for something, something better. Suffering is often what prepares us for joy. The mountains wouldn't exists with the valley, those places of vision, in between. It's the bad days that cause me to become even more thankful for the good days, and for the daily outpouring of mercy and grace from above that overflows an undeserving vessel.