when young, i wanted to marry a man who dances. who would pull me up at the sound of music. who’s leading would draw looking. in the center of things would be this twirling, breath-taking coming together.
fourteen years and i see clearly M dances with me…
pulling paper towels while i am pulling hair back as little girl fights against ill and she is fear wracked by heaving.
daily rhythm of leaving house we side step like long time partners. in and out kids, keys, alarm, remember________, i love you. together in spotlighted and just between us.
M pulls me up…
offering truth in exchange for my doubting self.
lifting me with a love that stands and sees all of me and keeps promises.
he takes us through this life with me on mind. less stumble as i lean in.
M takes my breath…
in forgiveness easily handed over.
in way he steps in big when i am at stand still.
i am reminded of my god. he is present. seated at table or spinning under lights.
in the grit and grace and glory of this life, HE dances with.
…and behold, i am with you always, to the end of the age.
matthew 28.20b (ESV)