For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Jeremiah 29:11
I sit by my favorite window looking out at the pink flowers bobbing in the wind. They look free. Unhindered. Joyful even. Not at all like I feel in the present moment.
I feel restrained and heavy. Weary. Tired of trying so hard to be what I should be. Surely that version of me is in there somewhere. If only I could get a grip on her and yank her up to the surface for good.
But she eludes me. Day after day and moment after moment, I fall short once again. And I wonder—will I ever get it right? Will I ever be where I want to be and who I want to be?
It feels like it’s all up to me. And that is scary. Because I know I’m not up to the task. And that’s when I remember that I was never meant to be. I was never meant to go solo. When I do, I will fall—and hard.
Are you tired of doing it on your own? The trying. The failing. The getting up again—exhausted and overwhelmed?
Good. Because now you’re ready—
To dance.
For I know the plan I have for you, declares the Lord … Jeremiah 29:11
This knowing and perfect love—
Go before me.
Follow behind me.
Walk beside me.
He is always with me. And I am always with him. It is a story of together—of with.
It is a dance.
Dance steps in unison with one another. It keeps its partner close. It leads. It follows. It directs. It moves seamlessly across the floor—not in one direction—but in many. Gliding, swaying, twirling. Steadily and in rhythm to the beat, gaining momentum, then easing off again.
Dance tells a story. It tells your story—and mine. Your eyes are fixed on the one who is leading you. You follow willingly and keep in step. If you take your eyes off of his lead, you falter. But you can always join the dance again, remembering where you missed a step so that you will not miss it—this time.
You dance as one—with practice and consistency.
As you learn to trust the one who leads you.
Trust doesn’t look for a way out—or its own way forward. It doesn’t fret over what it may be missing elsewhere. Trust instinctively obeys. It knows the confines of safety are within its borders. And it rests there—in that most sacred and secret place of intimacy and peace.
This poetic illustration is what our relationship with God looks like when we are surrounded by and surrendered to—his perfect love.
It lures and leads us into a forever embrace that will grace us into eternity. He leads—we follow. It’s that simple. His love for us is simple. Beautiful. Carefully choreographed for each of us—unique.
Your dance is like no other. It belongs to only you—and to him.
So what does this dance look like in the day to day?
It looks like me waking up and searching for him to start my day.
Hello, God, I say. I’m here. And I know your are too.
It looks like me remembering him in each moment. The hard ones and the joy-filled ones. In both my pain and my gratitude. It looks like small prayers lifted up on the fly and throughout my day. It looks like me talking to my best friend, walking, and working with him. It looks like him being the first one I greet in the morning—and the last one I hug goodnight.
It looks like love.
I could say so much more about what this looks like in real time, but then this would be a book! So you get the picture. It’s a relationship like no other—an intimate dance perfected over time and space.
And it’s here—
Just for you.
