Dancing in the Storm

One of the things I have learned over the years is to dance.  Now, don't get me wrong - I can't dance!  Elegant and graceful are not words one would use to describe me at all.  I'm rather short, squat, uncoordinated, and klutzy.  I'm strong and can go on forever at a task, but I am not graceful at all.

Yet, I've learned to dance.  It is how in my heart I express delight in God.  I've learned the truth in the verse that says, "The Lord takes great delight in you, He will quiet you with His love, He will rejoice over you with singing." I've learned to listen for His singing, for His delight in me.  My response?  To dance.  An unrestrained dance of a small child's delight.  I've danced through the good things; I've danced through the tough times; I've gotten to my feet in defiance of those things which should have crushed me and danced through the storms.  It is the quiet singing of Gd which calls to me and my heart turns up once more and begins to dance.

These last weeks have been tough.  Remnants of things this spring hang over us, difficult times come, the sheer crazy busy-ness wore us out, the constant presence of a guest, things broke, life was not easy; our friends were out of town so we were alone.  We were tired, exhausted.  Then when we were at our breaking point, it only got worse.  Tragedy struck and our hearts were sore.  Then on top of that, friends left us.  One thing after another hitting when I was already low, and I sat in stunned shock.  I think one of the harder things in life besides gut-wrenching tragedy is when friends disappoint us.  It can come out of the blue and feel like a gut-punch, knocking the very breath out of us.  Then the cold sets in - the cold of sudden aloneness.

This has been my last few weeks.  But over the years, I have learned to dance, and now, in the quiet stillness, my bruised heart looks up to the One who quiets me in His love, who delights over me with singing.  And bruised and bleeding, I raise my head and begin to dance.  It is a painful dance right now, one with many tears.  I'm cold, tired, and still stunned.  My heart is crying.  But over the turmoil comes the gentle voice of God singing, and I respond with a quiet dance.  This time through the pain, but through the tears comes the cry of my heart, "Whom have I in heaven but You?  And besides You, I desire nothing on earth."  It is right now a dance of mourning, of pain - the fullness of all the pain and confusion in my heart lifted up to the One who loves me, but I dance.

The morning will come of a new day - one that looks so terribly different from today, but as the dawn breaks on the new day, I know some things will remain certain.  God will still be there, still singing in delight over me, still committed to me.  And I will still dance.  I will dance as my wounded heart heals.  I will dance in the new day as my mind wraps around what the evening before I could not even imagine.  God remains and my heart shelters in that fact.  My refuge.

Rock of Ages cleft for me, let me hide myself in Thee

I run to the Rock that is higher than I 

Nevertheless, I am continually with You;

You have taken hold of my right hand.

With Your counsel, You will guide me and afterwards recieve me to glory.

Whom have I in heaven but You?

And besides You, I desire nothing on earth.

My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart

and my portion forever...

but as for me, the nearness of God is my good;

I have made the Lord God my refuge that I may tell of all Your works.

Ps 73

Though the fig tree should not blossom
         And there be no fruit on the vines,
          Though the yield of the olive should fail
         And the fields produce no food,
         Though the flock should be cut off from the fold
         And there be no cattle in the stalls,
    Yet I will exult in the LORD,
         I will rejoice in the God of my salvation. 

Hab 3:17-18

I find it interesting that while God comforts and shelters us in trouble, He does not take away the pain.  We still carry it.  We still go through it.  There is no spiritual opiate, no mind-numbing drug to ease our way.  Only in the midst of the pain, hurling ourselves into His arms - there we find shelter.

I don't know what your "yet" is right now.  Some are big things, some are little things that have just been there for so very long, some are things that others might shake their heads and wonder why it is an issue - everyone has their "yet".  Some we are free to share, others we aren't; but let's chose through the pain, "Yet will I exult, I will rejoice."

Wounded or not - going on.  We've come too far to quit.  And my heart has been trained to dance.