Soul Food

I did it.  I did the thing I've been planning to do for months.  I took a day off and spent it alone, at home. 

I did what I wanted.  I didn't do what I didn't want to do.  I drank two cups of coffee instead of one and didn't even get dressed until after lunch, which I ate alone with only the sound of the dishwasher for company.  I played the piano.  I read a little.  I walked the dog.  I took a nap.  I wrote a poem. 

And I didn't want it to end.

It's that profound desire to hold on, to savor, that makes me wonder why I wait months and months to take a day that brings me so much joy and so much renewal. 

For some people, today would not have been a blessing.  They would rather have spent it in a crowd of friends, hiking, or maybe touring a vineyard.  And that's the thing, isn't it?  Our ability to discern what it is that both brings us peace and invigorates us at the same time is the point at which we have learned to pastor our own souls.  For too long, I stayed away from the seminary of my own heart, distracted by the need to perform and believing if I took time away to feed myself, I was selfishly robbing the people in my life of what they needed. 


But, time spent in regularly pastoring my soul keeps me from feeding others with empty hands and allows me to break off a piece of my wholeness and offer it freely, without fear that it is all I will have for tomorrow.

And so, I will not wait so long for the next time. 

Ode To A Day Home Alone

Creative stirrings make

lukewarm coffee as the bathrobe

spins out like a ballerina's chiffon,

the riverdance flowing around the living room rug,

and the dog sleeping on, unaware

of the freedom that comes with

solitude.

In Daddy's Arms

She started ballet last Friday.  She had been counting the days, telling me how many she had left every night when I tucked her in.  I caught her chewing her lip over it once.  When I questioned her, she confided she was nervous, unsure if she could do it.  Would the other girls be way ahead of her?  Would she be able to catch up?  Would she have any trouble making new friends?  I smiled and assured her she would do great.

We bought the shoes, put her hair up in a ballerina bun, and walked into the first class together.  The instructor let me stay and observe through a window, and I cried as I watched her, grace unhindered on the dance floor.

It wasn't until the next day that it happened.  I had a photography shot I wanted to get of her daddy and her, with her little feet in her new ballet shoes.  She was all too happy to oblige by dressing up in her ballet clothes again, anxious to show off some of her new skills.

As I sat on the floor, fumbling with the buttons of the camera,  she grabbed his hands and popped up onto her tippy-toes.  I hadn't been expecting that.  One day of ballet, and we're ready for pointe?  Where had all the anxiousness gone?

And then I realized the truth...you can't be unsure of yourself in your daddy's arms.  In daddy's arms, there is no fear, only love.  And when you live in a place without fear, and when you are loved without reservation, you are free to be yourself.  You are free to dance.

My little girl won't stay this little.  She won't always be a tiny thing spinning in the living room.  She won't even always have her daddy who loves her more than life there to hold her.  But, she will always have a Father who holds her close.  The One she is learning to trust to lead her through the dance of life upon this earth.  The Daddy that will never leave her or forsake her.  The Papa who created her to be grace, and grace unhindered.

So, dance on sweet girl, dance on.