I stretch my back, rearrange the chair, angle my body forward, trying to press in. The weekend's activities pop in and out of my consciousness, pesky buzzing of moments gone by, and I just want to be present.
Present to Him. Present to worship. Present to the life.
I ache. I ache in the humanity of it all. My restless self. My cluttered mind. My faulty footing.
And yet, the sacred cascades down shining light, dazzling light, amidst the ordinary, the everyday of it all.
My Sunday worship, where the ordinary meets the extraordinary.
As I get my footing and begin to trust the ebb and flow of a life settling into the sacred, my heart begins to beat with the flutter of His life-words. Oh Jesus, meet me here. For I am all over the place and I feel a wobbly worshipper today: in my life, my unfolding days, and all that is transpiring before me.
My heart flutters beginning to remember His words of old breathed fresh with new life.
To be the beauty, I must dance. I must move and twirl, rise and fall, move out and move in trusting the story is being conveyed in the movements, moment-by-moment.
And here he reveals a new move as I run freely into his arms. Lifting...lifting...higher and higher.
Hold it, hold it there. Yes! I have you, I have you....
I take a deep breathe as the tears begin to come and my reality sets in. Not my surface reality but the inmost place one....He has me. He is carrying me. He will display His splendor through me. He is telling a good story with my life. I am His. He is mine. The dance ours, for a lifetime.
Let Him carry me, especially now with new steps and turns we've been training for, for such a time as this....
The lights go back on, the music fades, and my heart has been lifted. Lifted by the one who promises to forever hold me. My strength, my strong footing now and forevermore.