Tiny Dancers

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Recently I went to my granddaughters’ first dance recital.  I have been blessed with five beautiful granddaughters, and two of them had the opportunity to explore the world of dance.  Of course, I am a proud grandmother and as such, as all grandmothers are, I was suddenly an expert in dance.  In my eyes, they were exquisite and ready for Julliard.

Not really, but of course I felt they did a lovely job.   The youngest was full of joy and energy, and at age six more interested in the social aspects and the pink shoes than in technique. Yet she danced with abandon and joy.  Her contagious smile drew everyone’s attention.

Her older sister, often uncertain and shy, was focused on every move and executing most of them brilliantly.  This after only six weeks!  She too loves the pink skirt and matching shoes, yet being in a group of strangers for her is excruciatingly difficult.  New things challenge her, but she has such heart.  Once she gets over the butterflies, she soars.

Watching them dance reminded me of when I put on ballet slippers at age five and for a few brief weeks, believed I was the greatest ballerina in all the world.  Such was my imagination, and I would look for opportunities to twirl and spin and leap.  Usually when I could see my own reflection in the window, or on the Christmas ornaments hanging from our tree.  Like my younger granddaughter, I felt no fear only possibilities.

But in some ways, I am also like my older granddaughter.  I can easily let fear keep me back at first.  If I let it.

So many things can bring me to a place of fear.  What will they think about me?  Will they accept me?  Am I doing it right?  Do I look like a fool?  I don’t have the education or experience.  I will look foolish.  I’ll only fail, so why try?  What if they really knew me?

Dark whispers that would keep me out of the dance.  Lies that would cloud my vision of light and hope.  Noise that drowns out the beauty of the music.

Music.  Can you hear it?  Joyful, boisterous, yet sweet, gentle and strong. My Father is singing.  Can you hear Him?  He calls to us to dance – to forget our fears.  You see, perfect love casts out all fears, and OH how He loves us.  We can let go, and not worry about what others think. The only opinion that really matters is the Lord of the Dance.  He bids us come – dance on the waves of our circumstances.  He bids us to come dance with Him.

Put on your dancing shoes, tiny dancer!  It’s time to let go and dance!

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