Dad's Dance

I Peter 1:3 -- "Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who according to His great mercy has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead..."

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Looking down at my feet I listened intently as my Dad told me which foot to put forward next. There was no music by which to dance, but my Dad hummed something - a tune I didn't recognize. He slowly turned me with one arm reaching over my head and then resumed the lead.

My eleventh year on this planet was one of the hardest. Dad and I often butted heads as I clumsily broke from the cocoon of little-girl-hood and attempted to try out new wings that had yet to dry out properly. In that year I was given the freedom to disagree with my parents - as long as I did so in a respectful manner. The storms erupted seldom because I disagreed - and more often because I had a short fuse and lacked the maturity to demonstrate self control. I truly do not understand how my Mom and Dad put up with that sour little tongue of mine. It is no small compliment when I say that I have been richly blessed with amazingly patient parents.

A slump had taken over me that night as the bright tropical night exploded with stars. My little sister had been invited next door to enjoy the company of a fellow MK. By itself the invite was harmless - but the fellow MK put much fanfare into making obvious the exclusion of yours truly. When my sister decided to accept the invitation, anyway - I was more than a little bummed.

Thus -- the impromptu Father/Daughter dance.

As my feet repeatedly stomped down on my Dad's toes, he smiled at me and kept on humming. I'll never forget his gentleness. I'll never forget the smooth way in which he proceeded to teach me grace. In his subtle fatherly manner he was letting me know that it was ok that I felt chunky and clunky and even a little insignificant. I would eventually learn the steps and form would follow. He was instilling in me hope. I would not always be awkward and left out. One day my new wings would unfold completely and dry out into something beautiful and useful for God.

I can still hear my Dad humming that tune, sometimes. I remember him pulling me in for a hug just before he switched partners and reached for my Mom. It was a sweet moment. A moment that might not have happened had I, too, been issued an invite next door.

Picking up empty soda bottles, used-up batteries, and smelly tennis shoes left on the floor by my two semi-adult boys - I don't always feel like a princess. But that night in the balmy Philippine Islands, I did. My Dad made sure that I did. That's how very much he loves me.

And - that's how very much our Father loves us. We might be in a slump from time to time - but our Amazing Father loves us so, so very much that he has instilled in us a Living Hope. It's not just one dance - one beautiful moment to grant us encouragement - - but it's a living breathing hope that will last beyond our lifetime. It's the ultimate hope that ensures we can always be with Him - our Father - entrenched forever in His love and gentleness, His mercy and grace.

I'll never forget the love and gentleness granted to me during Dad's dance. Looking back - I can see how he demonstrated the love and gentleness of our Heavenly Father, as well. I will always cherish that moment.