Fushias look like joyful dancers to me as they spin and sway in the summer breeze.
The culture I grew up in forbid dancing as a potentially lustful activity. I had to bring a note to be excused when our all-girl gym class learned Hokey Pokey or Oh Johnny Oh.Β Now I watch my grandchildren move so naturally to the music that inspires them and I miss the years I spent with my feet nailed to the floor. I definitely do not have a dancer’s body, and just because my feet stop dancing doesn’t mean other parts don’t keep swaying. I feel rather foolish, but I long to dance with the freedom of a child.
Someday.
Then shall the young women rejoice in the dance,
and the young men and the old shall be merry.
I will turn their mourning into joy;
I will comfort them, and give them gladness for sorrow.
I will feast the soul of the priests with abundance,
and my people shall be satisfied with my goodness,
declares the Lord.
(Jeremiah 31:13-14)


you and me both …thanks for allowing me to feel normal
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Oh Sweetie, don’t use me as the standard for normalcy… haha!
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Charis, it is never too late to dance. Forget yourself and give yourself permission to join the fuchsias in the freedom of exuberant expression of joy. The flowers are enjoying it, so why not you? π
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Thanks for the encouragement!
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Sometimes my heart is so overwhelmed with the joy knowing what his promises will bring that I just want to run unhindered through open fields. π
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π
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David danced before the ark with great joy!!! I call it the practical theology of worship.
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I wonder if he also wore royal purple underwear like the fushia? That would have been flashy.
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I think we grew up in the same church, Friend.
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Could be. They do some things very well. I am grateful now for all the scripture I was forced to memorize (although I still have to look it up on Bible Gateway in archaic English and then translate it for my friends who have never learned that language.) Some things were more difficult to learn there –like the concept of grace.
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