The Dance

I can't remember if it was last week or the week before, but I know it was a Wednesday morning.  As usual, I was up before anyone else and turned on some lights in the kitchen because these days the sun takes longer to rise.  In the dark of morning I spread peanut butter over his favorite soft cinnamon bread and poured a glass of orange juice so his breakfast would be ready and waiting.

Like every morning, I hated to wake him up.  He always looks so warm and comfortable, nestled in perfectly and enjoying the best of sleep.  If only I could let the sun wake him, but kindergarten calls so I must instead.  As for kindergarten, he is loving every minute, his eagerness exceeding any expectations I had for him.  God is faithfully answering the quiet prayers of a mother.

After he was uniform clad and mostly awake, he sat down at the table.  In quietness he ate his breakfast as a few shreds of light came through the window.  The day would be a cloudy one, so the morning was bathed in gray shadows.

I was scurrying about the house and the kitchen, doing the fast paced dance of motherhood that somehow gets a family out the door on time.  I was working at the counter after he finished his breakfast when he walked over to me and said simply, "That was good, Momma," and reached out his arms.  I scooped him up and for a moment the frenzy stopped, and suddenly the dance was sacred as I stood in the kitchen swaying back and forth, back and forth, silently holding a boy who will soon outgrow my arms but will always fit in the deepest places of my heart.

He held on tightly, and so did I, and then it was time once again to let go and release him into a world of learning and lunchboxes and all things new and exciting to his earnest little mind.

In the letting go my heart was somehow full.

And as summertime turns into autumn, I am reminded anew that seasons will always change...

There is a time for fast pace and a time for stillness...

That mornings sometimes begin in the dark and sometimes in the light, but every day is a gift...

And while the tempo and time may vary, when given the opportunity, 
always dance.