I am thankful. I am thankful for dancing.
I’ve always enjoyed going out dancing with my husband, like we did a few weeks ago for my sister’s birthday. But my favorite dancing is the kind I don’t have to leave home to do.
Dancing in the rain keeping rhythm with the wind and the wet.
Dancing in my rocking chair as I listen to praise music.
Dancing in the car when I’m sure no one’s looking.
Dancing in the kitchen when my husband surprises me with a hand around my waist and a whispered melody in my ear.
Dancing with 2 little girls and 1 little boy in the living room while Pandora plays loud over the stereo system. With them it’s always
until we’re a dizzy heap of giggles rolling on the floor.
Memories are made in the dancing, the spinning, the laughter.
The freedom felt as mind, body, and spirit become one moving along the floor together.
The security known as his arms hold me tightly and his feet move me in rhythm with his. Movement, breath, a heartbeat shared.
Joy, uncontainable joy, overflows from within and causes me to move.
I think about how David danced. Unashamed. Unafraid. Uncontrolled. Completely aware of the one who made him, filled with joy that moved him.
I want to be moved. And so I continue to dance.
“Wearing a linen ephod, David was dancing before the LORD with all his might, while he and all Israel were bringing up the ark of the LORD with shouts and the sound of trumpets.”
~2 Samuel 6:14-15