By day, I am a wife and mom. On Wednesday nights, I’m an Acro/dance instructor. With my husband working graveyard, we see each other for about an hour on Wednesdays. As we were catching up yesterday afternoon I was talking to Eric about all of my recital preparations that are beginning to unfold in my classes. I put on the song, “Home” by Phillip Phillips and started explaining how I was incorporating it into the dance routine when Jonathan comes running in and says, “Mommy! Come dance with me! Come on! You have to dance with me!” In a split second I had a decision to make. Will you dance? I could dismiss him gently and tell him how tired I was and that I wanted to talk to his Papa, or I could go running hand in hand to the living room and dance my heart out with him. I chose to dance.
There is nothing like seeing the joy of a child. My son’s face lit up when I grabbed his hand and spun him around. He began to laugh and jump and didn’t want to stop when the song was over. So we didn’t. We kept dancing until we were both out of breath.
Life is full of moments where you can choose to live in the moment, or pass it by. Dancing moments. This last year has presented itself many moments where I have been asked, “Will you dance?”
I am standing on the sand with a wine bottle full of letters that represent the hurts and trials I walked through in the past few years including miscarriages, disappointments, dreams crushed, relationships broken. I can throw it into the ocean and drown them or I can keep letting that wine bottle float back to me, a thorn in my side that won’t go away. Will you dance?
My husband’s job closes its doors and he is on unemployment barely working part-time just a couple of weeks before our 4th child is born. Will you dance?
My husband is given the opportunity to become a Fire Fighter and save lives while giving his. He might die in that environment. He might spend the next 20 years saving lives and retire and we grow old and wrinkly together. Will you dance?
I have a calling to reach people and show love in extraordinary ways. It looks different than I thought it was going to. It might mean more education, and it might mean giving up what I thought belonged to me. It might cost me a lot of money, and it might impact hundreds of lives and families along the way that I wouldn’t have influence in without taking this path. Will you dance?
God says, “Start a blog.” I don’t want to be a hipster and become just another “blogger.” Will you dance?
My mom calls me and says, “Your dad has been referred to an oncologist.” A month later, “Your dad has leukemia.” Will you dance?
This is my question. Will you dance? I spent the last few years struggling to just dance. I wanted and desired but felt I came short more often than not. In the beginning weeks of this year, I have thought about nothing more than living in the moment. To simply, let go of the past, and stop wondering about the future but to live each day with so much fullness I lay on my bed at night knowing I danced. I laughed and I loved and I cried and I pushed and I gave today everything I had. I don’t sit on the sidelines of history anymore. I dance.
Will you dance?