Today was a much awaited day in our household. After the cancellation of just about everything that everyone everywhere had planned last spring, the fact that we’re sitting at baseball games and attending music programs this year feels extra life-giving and worth savoring, doesn’t it? I really think I could pinch myself sometimes, watching the world wake back up and things come to life again. I know I’m not alone in this–we’ve all missed “normal” so much after more than a year’s time.

I won’t say that I minded a slower pace in so many moments since last March, because it was no doubt good in many ways, as much as it was hard. But I have to admit that the distinction in our kiddos as they return to their activities and I observe their growth, well…it’s just crazy how much has changed. They’re not just taller or wiser, they’re braver, ever-hopeful, altered in many ways by the time gone by and the reality of facing new unknowns and bigger mountains. I’m proud of them on any given day, but then when they have the chance to shine in something they’ve worked hard at or loved, my heart isn’t just walking around outside of my body in those moments. It’s floating somewhere I can’t explain, just so, so filled with gratitude for these lives we’ve been called to steward. For all the times I fail in my communication or grace or understanding as a parent, they rise to the occasion and extend themselves in forgiveness and love poured back out to me. This can only be the work of the Holy Spirit in our lives–this extension of grace so tangible in ways I’d never know without them here.

This afternoon, Eloise danced in her annual showcase, which is always a gift to attend. The intentionality and worship that happens in preparation for an hour or two of dancing is just so uplifting–tiny little ballerinas and maturing, strong dancers who have trained for years, all together on one stage lifting up praise to God and honoring Him with their discipline and skill. I remember when Eloise danced for the first time, and I cried at how beautiful it was to see her among a group of itty-bitty ballerinas twirling so freely in pink and purple tutus. They didn’t have to find the beat or remember their choreography to move hearts; their joy in movement and music together was exactly the reminder anyone might need. To have faith like a child…to dance and twirl and leap with abandon…we could all benefit from that kind of freedom and worship.

Now, while that mini ballerina is still fresh in my mind three years later, I watched her dance today with a new level of confidence and grace in this thing God is using in her life to draw her closer to Him. The words of the songs were just so perfect as she moved with a maturity that somehow took me by surprise, even though I’m watching her grow every day:

“You’re parting waters. Making a way for me. You’re moving mountains that I don’t even see. You’ve answered my prayer before I even speak. All you need for me to be is still. And know that you are God. Be still, and know that You, trust that You are…”

And then later with pure joy as she tapped across the stage:

“I get this feeling in my spirit way down low. I hear it callin’ like a compass in my soul. Saying child come on back now. You’ve been gone too long. Let me lead you back where you belong. Right next to me…You put the X on my faded map. Draw me a line back to where you’re at. Patient when I try to move to fast, I get this feelin’…”

You can bet I was in tears again…joy and awe and pride all mixed together over four minutes of dancing that I hope to never forget. When we do things with our whole hearts and intent on bringing praise to God, something beautiful happens and it’s hard not to be drawn closer. I have to believe this is because we were built for worship–made to glorify him in every way we’re able, and that’s exactly what today felt like in the fullest of ways.

I’m so thankful for the reminder that we are called to praise God with our whole selves. The littlest three and four year olds demonstrated this perfectly as they lived out their training and preparation today in full force. These ballerinas aren’t just learning how to dance; they’re learning how to more fully become the young women God is calling them to be. Watching Eloise dance this afternoon didn’t just make me cry–it also made me laugh with delight and mouth the words my heart has so frequently needed to hear this year, “You’re parting waters. Making a way for me. You’re moving mountains that I don’t even see. You’ve answered my prayer before I even speak. All you need for me to be is still.”

Lord, that I would praise you with my whole self, today and every day of this pregnancy and in motherhood and in all the days to come. With every fiber of who I am and every breath, Father, I trust you, I am seen by you, and I know that you are God.

May it always be so,

MM