The feet

I was watching my friend Cathy, dancing with her father at a wedding. She was grinning at him while they danced and it brought back memories.

When I was little, we would go to my grandmother's house. She was my dad's mother and they all loved to dance. By they, I mean she and her two sisters and their husbands, and my parents. I remember many evenings pushing back the rug in the basement, turning the stereo up, and everyone would dance. The space was limited with so many people and there was much joking and laughter as they bumped into each other. My most favorite part was when I got to dance with my dad. When I was really little, he'd place my feet on top of his feet and we'd glide around the room, dipping and turning in time to the music. As I got older, I'd put my hand in his and count; one, two, three, four...trying to watch my feet so I didn't get stepped on.

If my earthly father placed my feet on his to teach me my first dance steps, doesn't my Heavenly Father do this as well? On my first tentative dances as a Christian, I know He carried me. Right now I think I'm in the process of counting and getting my feet stepped on...A LOT! But I'm learning the moves.

Thank you Father, that all good things come from You. You know all the steps of the dance of life and You'll hold our hand while we dance through it.