I found myself restless; the kind that leads your body into this fidgety state of being, full of heavy sighs and repeated leg movements that can’t quite give you a comfortable position to sit in. It was my inability to relax as a result of anxiety or boredom, offering no physical or emotional rest despite the desperate want of my spirit.

At least that’s what Webster told me.

The day had passed on and I had watched the sun travel across the sky, bringing shadows out of hiding to glide across my sunny patch of forest ground and steal a bit of my desired warmth on this solitude day of Satur.

The morning had started full of excitement and anticipation, ready for a day of the unknown in the middle of nowhere northern Georgia with nothing but my faded pink Bible, floral patterned journal and “borrowed” pen.

I found that the buzz I held soon turned into a frustration I wasn’t the least surprised of.

“I always feel like I have to be doing something…

Seek is a verb Father. 

So is be.“

I rolled my eyes at the thought and stubbornly closed my Bible, closed the journal turned to the blank page and allowed the pen to be released from the death grip of my hand. The frustration rose up in my throat as the insecurity of Our relationship weighed on the back of my mind.

“My love, dancing doesn’t require talking. You just have to let me lead. You must know my touch; the pressure and pull of My hand as I lead you across the floor. Don’t you see the flow we have, the depth of intimacy I’m leading you into? 

Don’t you remember your stubbornness? Let go of your want for control. I’m asking you to trust Me, to close your eyes and just trust Me to lead you in a dance you may not know. 

I might talk, I might not. Maybe you’ll hear a whisper in your ear or the hum of My voice as I sing over you. Maybe I’ll even pull back and chat. But right now, I just want you to take My hand and enjoy this moment and this dance we get to share.” 

I continued to sit there as the thoughts circled around me. I reminisced about all the ways Papa has illustrated Our relationship for me; in every song and picture He has given me, there has been a common point of reference that keeps me coming back.

We don’t talk much.

And we hold hands a lot.

And I am actually beginning to believe that He might be ok with just taking my hand and walking with me. That when I stop looking around at His relationship with everyone else and simply get lost in His gaze, that He might have me exactly where I need to be.

On a dance, a journey, an adventure that leads straight to the heart of Him who already knows where We’re headed.

“Life is a dance toward God, I begin to think. And the dance is not so graceful as we might want. While we glide and swing our practiced sway, God crowds our feet, bumps our toes, and scuffs our shoes. So we learn to dance with the One who made us. And it is a difficult dance to learn, because its steps are foreign.” -Donald Miller