i want my feet to dance

with my sweater keeping me warm and fuzzy socks reaching up to my knees, sun beams fly like swords through the sky and their light finds its way through this window and onto my face. Warmth. I won’t need this sweater for much longer now. 

  

I wasn’t exactly eagerly anticipating this spring. I knew it would be trying. I knew there would be storms I’d have to weather, hills I’d have to climb, fake smiles I’d have to plaster to my face. I’m fine. How are you? 

And to the ones who knew, I might elaborate, “today was the worst.” And their reply would be a sympathetic “I’m sorry.” 

  

All I had wanted was for my plan to work. Just once. Please, God. I had great things in mind. I had places and people and times and events swirling in my head just waiting to burst forth into fruition. But they never did. My plan didn’t work. 

I’m done, I told him. I told him I was through- I quit. I didn’t want to be broken, sick, tired, and lost anymore. That was no life for me and I refused to live it. It was time for me to dance away to my own rhythm. 

So I did.

 

I hadn’t known there was a place like that. A place lower than the bottom, further from lost, more shattered than a million pieces. But that place was where my dancing feet took me and all that was in me felt crushed.

  

“We can make our plans, but the LORD determines our steps.” 

 

Fine. You take the lead. I surrendered.

  

I hadn’t heard the song before. I didn’t like it at first. But I kept listening and as the words continued to flow and our feet shuffled in sync I began to understand the melody, the heart of the tune. 

Trust me.

My shoulders relaxed- I began to trust. My hands would tighten, then release the pressure. Every time I looked down at my feet to be sure of my steps, he lifted my chin and spoke confidence to my soul. 

Trust me.

The chorus repeated- I was just getting comfortable. Then the beats quickened and the notes got lower on the grand and I had an eerie feeling about what was fast approaching. 

Trust me.

I’ve never liked bridges. They’re dramatic and out of place and whatever they have to say can be said after the song ends. Did I have to dance on this bridge? 

Trust me.

So I did.

 

I suppose I should say am. I’m still on this bridge. I can see the end and I’m almost there, but this is not a bridge I would have chosen for myself. And that’s ok.

“If you love me, obey my commandments.”

I don’t love this bridge. But I do love my dance partner. So I’ll follow his lead and wait for the grand finale when I’ll see all of his promises fulfilled. I believe in that day. I anticipate that day. 

And like the sinful young woman I will dance and weep and pour myself out at my King’s feet day after day because what an honor it is for the bride to dance with her groom. 

“Your new name will be “The City of God’s Delight” and “The Bride of God,” for the LORD delights in you and will claim you as his bride.”

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