The Dance

“Come weary saints, though tired and weak,

 Hide away in the love of Jesus.”

We danced in the middle of the kitchen floor.  Winnie and I waltz-stepped and slowly spun. Around and around.  My baby and I were in church. 

“Come wandering souls and find your home

Hide away in the love of Jesus.

He offers the rest you yearn to know

Hide away in the love of Jesus.”

Winnie did not squirm, as is her habit. She rested in my arms and listened, like me, to the music.  

I had slipped the CD into the player as I embraced my restless grandbaby.  This was Lisa’s music.  I had given her the CD, but when she died, her family gave it back to me.  The music floated from the speaker.  God and Lisa seemed to be singing to Winnie and me.  This was our church service.  We listened and danced.

“Hide away in the love of Jesus.”

Winnie’s precious face pressed against mine. We danced cheek to cheek.  I could feel her little eyelash flutter.  I watched her rosebud lips pucker and relax.

Round and round we went – dip and twirl – embraced by the music.  

“Come hopeless hearts do not despair

Hide away in the love of Jesus.

For ten thousand joys await you there.

Hide away in the love of Jesus.”

The kitchen became our sanctuary today as we worshiped and waltzed. In the soft morning light, my baby and I hid away in the love of Jesus.

I’m so very thankful for the dance.

I invite you to join us.