loving you.

it doesn't take a genius to figure i'd get sick being perched on rocks in wafting skirts and flip flops in the snow. so i spent the better part of yesterday in a medicated sleep. but a conversation i had over the weekend brooded over me.

worship as art is a precarious thing. i've only taken the peformance role three times now and it doesn't seem to be getting any easier. i trust, that if the Lord would have me dance it will all work out.

judith took my coffee captive, and bade me go where i would not. to sessions. i followed her and all ends well, i got to dance for the close of the session. those three minutes nearly killed me. my lungs felt like they got gridlock and my throat couldn't open fast enough to suck in the air.

i exited the room before the dance ended because i don't like to be there for the kindly remarks afterward. (i feel the same about when i read poetry. i just leave.)

so i manage to avoid people, because i just don't know what to say when they tell me whatever it is they want to tell me about the dance. by dinner time, i'm feeling myself again.

so i sit at the feet of a female poet. who looks at me and says,

i loved watching you dance.

thank you.


i could see your soul. and i loved watching every move you made. i don't even know you, but i love you.

her eyes were welling up as she spoke. she continued,

i thought, i should be worshipping, but love is worship. so i just loved you as you danced. you must have studied.

i've had no formal training.

you must have absorbed it from watching others then?

no, i don't watch others dance.

then your intuitive dance is beautiful. your lines just flow. some of your moves are those of trained dancers.

i just smiled and listened. i've never really had anyone say these kinds of things to me in real time, face to face. it felt like a God moment.

like He was looking back at me and saying,

daughter, i love watching you dance.