You turned my wailing into dancing; you removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy. Psalm 30:11
“Mom, will you teach me how to dance?” These sweet words were the first Connor said to me this morning. With a heart full of mother-love, I shuffled around the bedroom in red pajamas with my son–dancing. The little boy was gone and in his place stood a young man on his way to adulthood. What a wonderful, bittersweet thing to behold.
Sometimes my heart aches when I slow down to notice these fleeting moments. I long to keep Connor safe within the circle of my arms. Protected from struggles. Sheltered from storms. But, growing up means stepping onto that dance floor–without me. And whether or not the music is fast or slow, erratic or calming, I know he’ll adjust–not because of something I’ve done to prepare him, but because the One who gives us a reason to dance will be there. Singing tender words of comfort when there are tears; whispering “Follow my lead” in moments of uncertainty, and celebrating life’s joys with the child he created.
Teach him to dance, Lord.