She used to dance...

She used to dance. Years ago, it was her main form of exercise, aside from chasing the dog through the neighbor’s orchard. She danced to an audience of One, in a way that only the One would appreciate. She was into music then, too. She had a collection of love songs sung by people who loved Him as much as she did, and who could put that love in words and harmonies so that she could put her love into movement, all for Him. Thinking about it later, she couldn’t remember if she danced well. She assumed that she didn’t. But at the time, she never thought about it. She never had to question what He thought of her dancing for Him, and so it never occurred to her to think about it herself.

It has been a while since she has danced for Him, although in church when she sings with others who love Him, she can never keep still. Sometimes she dances silly, to make her child laugh. She does happy dances when good things happen. And she dances with her husband, quiet, slow celebrations of their love.

But is has been too long since she has danced alone, for Him. As a daughter before her Father, “Daddy, watch me dance!” It has been too long since she has danced with abandon, with forgetfulness, with the sheer joy of being delighted in by One who loves her, just because she exists.

She can hear the music. She can see the hand stretched out to her. Her hand brushes the nail scars as she slips it into his and rises from her seat. And dances.