Dancing in the Now

Today there is laundry and homemaking 

and tidying and a roast

in the slow cooker

and snow falling from the heavens.

It is in these hours,

while they are schooled, 

that I scribble thoughts, deep reflections,

and focus on bending low 

that I might serve them better, 

with a fuller and happier

heart.

It is the calm in the cacophony.  

The only quiet in the day.

In these few, fast, quiet hours

I seek to slow the tempo of my days, to carve out

time to simply be.

To allow quiet and Bible and prayer

to fill me that I might

pour back grace and full-attention

love on them.

The oldest's eyes, sky blue.

Always wanting to show and tell, 

and sit together, just the two.

Always seeking quality time, that one.

Our third parent.

Her flitting,

my little Ruth, hardest worker, twirling, dancing,

stretching.  Always seeking confirmation, assurance

that she goes in the right

direction.

And the littlest one. 

Mischievous, busy, infectious

giggle.  He is forever spying, sneaking, 

looking to surprise - "Could you hear me, Mom?"

he says.  And I chuckle,
play along.

Yes, this is the glorious, sacred dance of now

and I must dance to the tune He has chosen.  

For to be a wallflower is to miss

out on the sway, 

the gentle rhythm

of our life.

He is asking me, His beloved, to join Him in a dance,

and to say a polite 'no thank you'

to His extended hand,
with busyness and unfocused attention,

 is to miss out the gift.

So here and now I remove shoes,
reach for His nail scarred hand,

and dance in barest feet,

for I am on holy ground.

Even if it is strewn with yesterdays socks

and crumbs of Goldfish

long forgotten.

I choose to dance.