foreverbluesky
01-23-2004, 06:12 PM
Tiny Dancer
As the music played softly, my mind drifted. Golden curls and white tule twirled in my head as I saw the form of my once 3-year-old girl. Allowing myself to rest on that moment long ago, I relived it as if it was the first time. My husband, being a musician, had discovered this song on a new tape that had just came out. The beautiful melody and the word picture the lyrics had painted truly made it a unique experience we were anxious to share with our church. I remember it took several times for me to sing it without weeping. As we were practicing at home, our daughter, though only 3, would dance quietly with the new positions she had learned in her ballet class she attended.
‘As I come into your presence….’ I started to sing as Randy gently played. We watched her in her own little world and were touched… That next Sunday we decided to have her accompany our new song with the dance she had worked hard on all week. Our congregation was moved beyond words as they beheld God’s glory reflected in the pure praise of a little child. I will never forget that day. Now 12, she is as tall as I, wearing my shoes and spending time on the phone. Those days are far behind her…
Reveling in this memory of old, I began to weep as I reflected on our life since then. Those years seemed so tender and innocent, free from ugly words we have come to know and use well. Words like cancer, divorce, brain tumor, ventilator… the list could go on and on. Tragedy and life had hit hard for an extended period and had taken its toll on our world and the relationships we have cherished for so long. Taking one another for granted became the temptation of the day and maintaining became the goal. How subtle it begins. Enduring crisis after crisis, the survival process slowly reaches in to withdraw the very essence of life in the things that we touch. Our innocence flees and the harsh reality of dealing with serious issues wears down the silver lining that hangs on the cloud over us.
How I wish I could return to those days of watching my angel spin in worship to a God that was at one time so easy to understand. Did I appreciate then how fleeting that moment would be…No, we never do, till it is too late.
Tonight, 10 years later, I stand alone and sing that same song with this new congregation. To them it is an old song now. But I remember a time when it was fresh, new and very beautiful…like many other things in my life.
Where is my tiny dancer….
As the music played softly, my mind drifted. Golden curls and white tule twirled in my head as I saw the form of my once 3-year-old girl. Allowing myself to rest on that moment long ago, I relived it as if it was the first time. My husband, being a musician, had discovered this song on a new tape that had just came out. The beautiful melody and the word picture the lyrics had painted truly made it a unique experience we were anxious to share with our church. I remember it took several times for me to sing it without weeping. As we were practicing at home, our daughter, though only 3, would dance quietly with the new positions she had learned in her ballet class she attended.
‘As I come into your presence….’ I started to sing as Randy gently played. We watched her in her own little world and were touched… That next Sunday we decided to have her accompany our new song with the dance she had worked hard on all week. Our congregation was moved beyond words as they beheld God’s glory reflected in the pure praise of a little child. I will never forget that day. Now 12, she is as tall as I, wearing my shoes and spending time on the phone. Those days are far behind her…
Reveling in this memory of old, I began to weep as I reflected on our life since then. Those years seemed so tender and innocent, free from ugly words we have come to know and use well. Words like cancer, divorce, brain tumor, ventilator… the list could go on and on. Tragedy and life had hit hard for an extended period and had taken its toll on our world and the relationships we have cherished for so long. Taking one another for granted became the temptation of the day and maintaining became the goal. How subtle it begins. Enduring crisis after crisis, the survival process slowly reaches in to withdraw the very essence of life in the things that we touch. Our innocence flees and the harsh reality of dealing with serious issues wears down the silver lining that hangs on the cloud over us.
How I wish I could return to those days of watching my angel spin in worship to a God that was at one time so easy to understand. Did I appreciate then how fleeting that moment would be…No, we never do, till it is too late.
Tonight, 10 years later, I stand alone and sing that same song with this new congregation. To them it is an old song now. But I remember a time when it was fresh, new and very beautiful…like many other things in my life.
Where is my tiny dancer….