Just Dance

Join us over at The Gypsy Mama.

1. Write for 5 minutes flat on the prompt: “Dance” with no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking.
2. Link back here and invite others to join in.
3. And then absolutely, no ifs, ands or buts about it, you need to visit the person who linked up before you & encourage them in their comments. Seriously. That is, like, the rule. And the fun. And the heart of this community..

OK, are you ready? Please give me your best five minutes on:




Dancers Vernon and Irene Castle. Gelatin silve...













Whenever I hear the word “dance” I always think of the LeeAnn Womack song, I Hope You Dance. I also think of Garth Brook’s song, The Dance.

Both of those songs are about not taking anything or anyone for granted. Living life. Sharing days. Looking back and being glad you were there.

In that moment. For that time. Clock hands stand still.

Swaying, and laughing. Stomping and twirling. Moving to slow songs that only you and special others know.


Knowing it won’t…can’t…. last forever……..but, while you are there……just dance.


Juggling Is Not My Thing

Jongleur Spanien Circus Balls

Image via Wikipedia

Juggling, really is not my thing. I always drop the balls. I might try again, but most likely one ball will go shooting off in one direction and another will hit the floor. Sigh.

In the big scheme of things whether or not I can juggle really doesn’t matter. I’m not planning on joining a three ring circus anytime soon. (Although on really difficult days, I will admit, the thought has crossed my mind.)

How many times have I tried to juggle things in my life? Not balls, or fruit….. but, schedules, lists, quiet time, responsibilities, friends? How many times have I allowed certain things to crash to the ground because I realized that I can’t do it all?

Drum roll, please….I’m not perfect.

If you are anything like me, you aren’t perfect either. Isn’t it refreshing to be able to say that? Just to admit it? Embrace it? ……Big, deep breath.

There have been many times where I don’t get everything accomplished in a day.  There are things that I had planned, that didn’t get finished… Or even get started, for that matter. I feel overwhelmed. A failure. What is the matter with me? Why can’t I be super wife? Mom? Friend?

I read something recently that was a great reminder —I can’t do it all. I shouldn’t expect that I would be able to do everything. What a relief!  Life is far too fleeting to sweat the small stuff. Now, if I could just remember that on a daily basis.

On that note, here is my list for today:

* Life is short, whether we live an hour or one hundred years…in the scope of eternity, it’s all short. Enjoy it, for the time you have.

*Value each moment. Don’t rush. Slow down. Take it all in.

* Pay attention to the things that matter.

* Tell those you love that you love them. You need to say it, and more importantly, they need to hear it.

* Life is not an emergency, stop acting like it is.

* Give yourself a break. Perfection is not really any fun.

* Thank God for each day…no matter what kind of day you’re having. Each moment is a gift. Priceless…

* God is so good. It’s all by His grace. His sweet, amazing grace.

Casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you.    1 Peter 5:7 ESV

Standing On Stage

A view of the stage of Lemont High School's Pe...

Image via Wikipedia

The lights dim. The audience hushes. The curtain parts.

I stand on the stage, alone. The spotlight is on me.

And I wonder to myself if the people will like me? Do they want to hear what I have to say? Will they laugh with me? Will they cry? Will they see themselves in me? Will they care if I miss a line or will they smirk at my mistakes?

I clear my throat…and, I begin to speak.

Life is like a stage for all of us, isn’t it? Some days we are the witty ones full of good one liners. Other days we are the tragic hero/heroine, who is able to withstand life’s hardships. There are the days when playing the villain seems more the choice of character. Sometimes our play is a roller coaster ride of emotions. Sigh. We are all so complex.

On days when I feel the pressure to “perform”  for others… When I try to be everything for everybody…I have to quietly remind myself that I should only be concerned about the audience of one.

One. The only one that really matters. God watches me….as I stand on the stage.

I matter to Him.

Not because of anything I did. Quite the contrary.To be honest, my performance can be lousy. I get nervous. I forget my lines. I feel the sweat trickle down my back. I weep at my lack of skill.

He loves me.

He really loves me. He said so.

I stand on the stage at the end of the performance. My eyes strain to see Him as the lights come up.

He stands and walks toward me.

All the difficult practice, the memorization, the ups and downs of life on the stage, all melt away. It’s now just the two of us.

No other critiques or reviews matter except for ONE.

It is HIS voice I long to hear. It is HIS words that make my heart sing. It is HIM that I long to please.

His words resonant in my heart.

“Well done my good and faithful servant.”




Wheelchair Dancing

A close-up of a rear wheel of a wheelchair.

Image via Wikipedia

I don’t remember what caused me to think of it… a memory that has been tucked away, for at least twenty years. It’s funny how things just pop back into one’s mind, when least expected.

Everyone wants to be accepted. Everyone wants to feel wanted. Everyone needs a friend. In those ways we are not so very different.

A group of friends. Laughing and dancing. Being silly. Being young.

One friend’s brother sat in a wheelchair. An accident had taken away his ability to walk…ever again.

He wanted to dance.

He didn’t think anyone would want to dance with him…because his legs didn’t work. Because he was different. Because of fear.

He shyly looked at me. Will you dance with me?

“Yes”, I replied in youthful exuberance , “let’s go”.

I sat on his lap, wrapped an arm around his neck and off we went. We rolled, and rocked, and spun in dizzying circles.

We laughed out loud.

After the song, we rolled to a stop. We were out of breath from laughing and spinning.

He thanked me for dancing with him.

And I thanked him for asking.

That night I learned a valuable lesson.

Take a chance. Don’t let fear stop you from asking. Don’t worry about what others might be thinking.

And enjoy the dance.