Little Girl Dance

Each year, February brings the painful dance of my heart. It’s not that I’m angry. It’s not that I’m hating what I see. It’s just a longing within my once little girl heart that will never be fulfilled.

The beautiful pictures plastered all over social media during this month brings sweet memories never beheld. Precious relationships promising treasured protection and defense for all her days.

His large frame casts a shadow not of harm or destruction but of love and nurture. Her petite form is sheltered, cherished and adored. They stand in parade for all to appreciate and celebrate.

I am thankful for his place in her life. I am grateful for her desire for his strength and fortitude. I truly am.

Yet, my heart breaks time and again for the wee little one standing at the door, her packed bags awaiting his never return. She forms her own dance, spinning, twirling, hoping for his hand; yet, he never extends it.

Someway, somehow, she makes it to the One who holds the key. With tears streaming, hopes shattered and dreams crushed, He takes her into His arms, and swirls her life into a new masquerade where she can smile again. ❤️

Learn to Dance

I saw this pic the other day, and please forgive me, it hit me all wrong. Yes, I do understand the concept. I do understand that everyone wants to not feel broken. I do understand that being happy and free feels so much better than being heartsick and broken beyond repair. I get it.

I’ve had my share of brokenness. I’ve had my share of broken dreams, broken promises, broken images, and broken foundations in my life. I’ve had more than my share of tears shed through the years. I’ve experienced more than some and not as much as others. Brokenness is not comfortable, enjoyable, or even a bearable element of my soul.

But I cannot embrace the cultural trend that forgetting from where I came makes me more joyous, more loose, more free to live. I refuse to welcome the notion that to obliterate my past makes me a better, more balanced, human being. I will not accept the propaganda that tells me “a forgotten past brings a brighter tomorrow.” (*chosen words before seeing similar quote online. No correlation or reflection. Unaware of that author, quote or beliefs.)

When someone is hiking up a mountain, forgetting from whence you came will only cause you to lose your way back down the trail. When someone goes on a long extended trip, obliterating the road map will only cause you to never return to home.

When someone tries to erase history, history is never truly erased. What has been has been, and there is no way to live as if it never existed. That is just pretending, and pretending just makes you as a child.

Being a child is wonderful while you are of a physically young age, but once you have crossed the threshold of maturity, that immaturity only makes you look like an ignorant fool. (…and yes, those can mean two very different things.) So then, you have to look yourself in the mirror and ask yourself the hard questions…

How old am I? How old should I be acting? Will I live my life in immaturity, ignorance and foolishness, or will I live in maturity, knowledge and wisdom? The choice is truly yours.

I choose to walk in integrity, maturity, wisdom and truth. I choose to embrace my past, my pain and my brokenness, even the shattered pieces that may always carry a shards of irreparable moments. I will carry on, even if I walk with a limp, and even if my scars are evident for all to see.

I choose to be full of joy. I choose to have peace. I choose to love and be loved. I choose to have life and give life.

Is it hard? Heck, yeah! Is it uncomfortable? Always. Telling you that’s it’s not would be returning to those childhood days of pretend and make believe. Life is so much better than the fairytales. Not because it never rains and not because there is no pain, but rather, because through the rain, I learn to dance, through the pain, I learn to sing.

And this song and dance is better than any mythical enchantment I could ever dream. This song and dance gives birth to a beautiful melody called life created by an unimaginable symphony of experiences and awakenings. Without these notes on the pages of my soul, I could never leave the legacy of song for my children, my friends, my family, for one who is ready whom I may never know.

So, I will choose to dance even when it’s raining and even though the storm brews darker. I will dance and sing, and sing some more, to bring a little memory of sunshine through the pain; so, the legacy will live ever more brightly for my children and those who are to come.

**Listen to this.

*I do not own nor possess this song, video or photos. These are all from simple Google search.

Goodbye

A chapter in our lives is coming to a close.

A chapter which some of us thought would never end.

Now, we will go our separate ways.

Some never to look back upon this day.

 

The time has come to say goodbye.

Take care and never lose hope.

For if hope is gone, there is nothing.

And if there is nothing, we are not beings.

 

Never say goodbye, only farewell.

For if you say goodbye, I may not see you.

But if you say farewell, there’s always a way

That we may meet again on another day.

 

Never say good riddens, only good blessings.

For if you say good riddens, I may not succeed.

But if you say good blessings, there’s always a chance

That I will remember you when I go to dance.

 

Penned – MG – 5/91