Grandma's Dancing Shoes

The circle of life dances round us all.  It turns and sways and dips to a beat of its own.  And we enter the dance knowing not how it will end, but hoping we’ll learn the steps before it twists its confusion into our world once again.  And then the cycle repeats.  Falling hard, finding your feet, steady now and hold on, hold on for the dance. 

She danced well. 

She had this aura about her.  Always kind.  Always giving.  Always welcoming.  Always teaching simply by the way she lived.

She taught me to love a good book, a good campfire, and a good picnic, even if the flies were driving Grandpa crazy.

She taught me that it is possible to love to shop, but still remain frugal as she watched her pennies so she could be a good steward of all God provided.

She taught me to keep a ready supply of cake or pie ingredients so that at a moments notice, she could whip up her famous white cake for Mr. Matt, and all the others who would then fight him for a piece, or my personal favorite, banana pudding pie in graham cracker crust.

She taught me to feed a man’s stomach was to feed a man’s understanding of your love for him.

She taught me that if I ever hoped to truly love my husband, I must be willing to submit-submit to him and submit to growing a faith deeper than the eye can see.

She taught me to be strong, even when your lifelong partner leaves you much before you’re ready.

And she taught me to love.  To love others more than you love yourself.  To love deeply, to love richly, to love the way only God can love when He lives in us and through us.

And she loved to dance.  From her jewels to her dresses to her purses, she was a beauty to behold on this dance floor called life. 

Until time stole her health, leaving her confined to a body that just couldn’t function well and a mind that left long before we said our final goodbyes. 

But now she dances again. 

I can just picture her.  She’s wearing a red dress, lipstick shining and eyes sparkling.  She rounds the corner and slips her arm into his.  And together they enter into the Presence of the King where, finally together once again, they will dance on the streets that are golden.

Because if Grandma taught me anything at all, she taught me this.  Life is a dance.  Dance with your friends and the students you meet in your work.  Dance with your family.  Dance with your husband, and hold tight while the music lasts.   But in all steps of the dance, hold your faith dear as the center of your dance floor.  You will fall, life will be hard, but the dance goes on.  And if your roots go deeper, your faith goes stronger, you will rise above to dance like you’ve never danced before.

Today, she’s dancing like she’s never danced before.  And I’m counting on her saving a dance for me.