learning to dance

I was standing waiting for my bus, and observing the street in a kind of day dreaming way. I'm not clear when I first saw him, but at some point I spied a boy coming down the sidewalk on the other side of the street, about 12 years old, and a little awkward; that is, not a natural athletic type. His coat had slipped off his shoulders and hung from his elbows, and at some point he started to run, a gangly, slow, joyful run, all else forgotten, on a beautiful spring-like day, and after about 4 or 5 clumsy strides he jumped - in the air - as though he was clicking his heels together in his mind, and then continued his run for a few more yards.

It was all so natural and beautiful, his love at that instant, of being alive, and I resolved to try and remember to jump at least once, maybe more times, each day of my life.

Chris Rice wrote a lovely song called "Come to Jesus", which sings about the seasons of life. I'll never forget when my friend sang it once at the church I attended, and I am lifted up every time I sing it to myself. One verse goes like this:

"Oh, and when the love spills over, and music fills the night

And when you can't contain your joy inside

Dance for Jesus, dance for Jesus

Dance for Jesus and live."

The abundant life I have makes me want to dance. The lame man didn't walk away after he was healed. As I recall he went laughing and leaping. I want to jump, I want to dance. How about you? Shall we dance?