Today I danced.  Alone.  With God.  It seemed appropriate.   Today is my birthday, you see, and what better way to celebrate my birth, but to dance!  Dancing is not my norm, but it happens to be this week’s assignment and I am committed to this process of joy-seeking.

I made my first attempt at dancing yesterday afternoon with my boy.  And for a few reasons, the experience didn’t quite live-up to my expectations.  Time was short, as we needed to get our dancing underway before my girl returned home from a play date. (You know how those little sisters can ruin a good time.)  Anxiety was already building when my boy began to fret over not being able to find the particular Disney song to which he had set his heart on dancing.  After listening to the beginning of every song on two different Disney CD’s, I almost gave-up on the whole dancing idea when we happened to stumble on the right song.  My boy recovered quickly, though, and I willed myself to push aside my dampened mood and to dance.  For some reason, dancing like a princess to Beauty and the Beast just wasn’t doing it for me.  And then, I caught the smile on my boy’s face as he wiggled his arms and legs in awkward little dance moves. I took his hand in mine and we ran around the room, scarves trailing behind us.  We breathed in the joy together.

No doubt, I  cherished that dance with my boy;  however,  I decided that I needed to try this dancing thing again today.  By myself.  With music that I like.  Being the direction follower that I am, I donned a 3-tiered skirt (for the swirl effect) and a bright orange striped T (because  it’s colorful and feels good against my skin), hung  a long strand of my girl’s gold plastic beads around my neck,  grabbed a stack of my favorite CDs, and headed downstairs to the basement.  My playlist:  Eva Cassidy, Chris Tomlin, Natalie Grant, and Steven Curtis Chapman.  I know.  These probably aren’t the standard fare for dancing, but a few songs in particular speak to my heart and that’s what I was going for.  I popped Eva Cassidy’s soulful version of People Get Ready into my girl’s karaoke player, walked over to an open area between the hammock swing and  mini trampoline, and danced.  I swayed.  I twirled.  I held my arms open-wide.  I felt that little girl inside me rejoicing.  And after dancing my way through 30-minutes of CDs, I noticed tears rolling down my cheeks.  Tears of joy.  I danced with God.  And it was good.

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