September 3, 2010

A New Dance

17 years of marriage should have prepared me for this, I think.

How? How do 17 years of day-to-day living in a comfortable rhythm, one that you've memorized so well you hear it in your sleep, prepare you to learn a new dance? Especially when the old one was so sweet that your heart aches at the memory. And your body aches at the stretching and moving this new dance requires.

We are clumsy, awkward. I push and turn when I shouldn't. I stubbornly take the lead because I think I know the steps better. He resists and strains in frustration. I, exasperated, step on his feet and demand he pay attention. Slowly I realize that he can't hear the music over the sound of my voice bellowing instructions. Neither can I.

We stop. In silence, we listen.

The chords come faint, unfamiliar. The tune is dissonant to our earthly ears, not at all what we anticipated. How can we learn this dance? Will we get the hang of it?

I look him in the face. Beyond the crinkles that frame his sea-green eyes and the specks of gray in his thick black hair. Here is the man I love, my partner for life. The Maestro is conducting the orchestra. The music of our lives washes over us, as we start moving slowly, tentatively.

We will learn this. And it will be beautiful.

The Lord your God is with you, He is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, He will quiet you with His love, He will rejoice over you with singing.
-Zephaniah 3:17