Dear daughter of the One that bled for you and still prays for, will you remember peace this evening? Dear, little one who is all of a sudden not so small, will you let your mind rest?
I’ve seen the way that toil can rob us of joy and that’s what’s so beautiful about you: joy. Yes, I think you can work and find satisfaction in sweat, and labor, and toil. I think our hands can give make us thank our maker as we work, rest and do it all again. Yet, I think you can also wear your heart too thin by thinking your hands will make you who you are.
And I know you know this but still will you remember it? Will you remember it for me, who has not too long ago worried about things that were better left a mystery? Will you believe that if he has named sparrows he certainly will preserve your name? I’m not saying you’re doubting but I know you’re growing tired and I know sleep only does so much.
It’s just that I want you to dance in this time. Yes, even dance as you go through the wondering and the waiting. I know you love to dance and move and feel the green of our maker as you glide. So will you let your feet be light as you dance with Him who called you into a world that needs more dancing?
i don’t have answers, my dear sister. I don’t and I think that’s good. For, dancing never came by calculating and a masterpiece never was born out of a clear solution. No, your feet have always moved as you look at two lines that don’t quite intersect. Movements were created to find some resolution not born out of a simple answer written broad and clear.
So my dear sister I wonder if you could write a dance for this? For this season of your life as you weigh and think and hope. For this season of your life where you pray for a right answer secretly knowing He is with you wherever you go. I’m not asking for your feet to move, although they do move well. I’m just wondering, and asking, if maybe you could let your mind dance.
You know, let that same color that moves you to glide over dusty wooden floors move your mind to dance to the Name of Him who made your hands, feet, and smile. Do you think you could do that?
I think it would be quite the performance. I think others would see your movement and marvel at your peace. I think I would grow in faith as I watched you hold onto faith as your future came as it always will: one day at a time.
I know that dancing can feel like prayer as you move to things you didn’t know you felt. So I’ll try to be dancing with you as you hope, and trust, and move.
I’ll try but you’ve always done it better so I ask you to do it now:
dance with Him who made you
who made the color and the sea,
swing with Him who sings to you,
who gives you reason for the dance.