I could hardly sleep last night, as thoughts of new adventures shot through my mind at 2, 3, and soon 4 in the morning. I got lost within the moments of closing my eyes and imagining, and soon I found myself abruptly waking up to the sound of the alarm I eagerly set with anticipation the night before. Today. Today is the day I leave. I cannot believe this day is finally here. I have been waiting for this day for more than half of a year now, and it is finally here. More thoughts of what’s to come flood my head as I run through the shower and brush my teeth. I load up the car and head to the airport where I say one last goodbye to my mom and dad. These valuable moments seem to race past me faster than I can keep up with, as I look on to what is ahead. I rush through security and make my way to my terminal, all with an unrealistically huge smile on my face.
Now what? I find myself sitting here restless in terminal E3 with an agonizing two hours until I board my first flight to LAX. Everyone around me is scrolling through emails, sipping on overpriced lattes, and flipping through the latest People magazine. I looked forward to this moment for so long, but it was nothing like I expected. No one was interested in where I was going, what I was doing, or even why I was getting on an airplane. What was I expecting?
I needed to gather my thoughts, an impossible task for me most of the time. I found a place to hide away from the hubbub for a little while, took a breath, and opened my Bible. I opened to Isaiah 40 and saw verse 31 already underlined with some scratches of notes next to it. “But those who wait on The Lord will renew their strength. They will soar high on wings like eagles. They will run and not grow weary. They will walk and not faint.” God has been teaching me a lot about waiting on Him recently, but God spoke a new word over this verse. Dance.
Dance? Okay God, what are you trying to teach me?
Queenstown, New Zealand is my final destination. But I have to get there. Yes, I have been looking forward to arriving for quite some time now, but I overlooked the obvious details of the process of getting there. I had three extensive flights ahead of me, two security checks, and another baggage claim. This wasn’t going to be easy… or quick. When I got to the terminal today I was naively disappointed, almost as if I expected to just show up in a town with majestic mountains and clear water jumping out around me.
The destination is important, but I had forgotten who I was traveling with. My Father wanted to dance with me for a moment. Amidst the craziness of suitcases rolling past me and hundreds of seemingly pointless phone conversations buzzed past my ears, The Lord had asked me to dance with Him. I realized that sometimes God wants to take a moment wherever I am and show me one of His dance moves.
As He takes the lead, I follow. I shadow the rhythm of His heartbeat. I trace His melody that He is singing over me. My feet are in sync with His as He guides them smoothly. I track eye to eye with my Father as He brings me into something beautiful. Our hands lock and I’m gently held as He takes control. I realized how important this continuous moment is for me.
I had forgotten the in-between. The beautiful moments of the path. The instances in the route that should be cherished. I’m going forward towards the final destination, but sometimes my steps are not one foot after the other. Sometimes my steps are a dance. He just wants to dance with me for a moment, teach me for a moment, and be with me for a moment as He takes me into a new place.
Now what? I find myself sitting here restless in terminal E3 with an agonizing two hours until I board my first flight to LAX. Everyone around me is scrolling through emails, sipping on overpriced lattes, and flipping through the latest People magazine. I looked forward to this moment for so long, but it was nothing like I expected. No one was interested in where I was going, what I was doing, or even why I was getting on an airplane. What was I expecting?
I needed to gather my thoughts, an impossible task for me most of the time. I found a place to hide away from the hubbub for a little while, took a breath, and opened my Bible. I opened to Isaiah 40 and saw verse 31 already underlined with some scratches of notes next to it. “But those who wait on The Lord will renew their strength. They will soar high on wings like eagles. They will run and not grow weary. They will walk and not faint.” God has been teaching me a lot about waiting on Him recently, but God spoke a new word over this verse. Dance.
Dance? Okay God, what are you trying to teach me?
Queenstown, New Zealand is my final destination. But I have to get there. Yes, I have been looking forward to arriving for quite some time now, but I overlooked the obvious details of the process of getting there. I had three extensive flights ahead of me, two security checks, and another baggage claim. This wasn’t going to be easy… or quick. When I got to the terminal today I was naively disappointed, almost as if I expected to just show up in a town with majestic mountains and clear water jumping out around me.
The destination is important, but I had forgotten who I was traveling with. My Father wanted to dance with me for a moment. Amidst the craziness of suitcases rolling past me and hundreds of seemingly pointless phone conversations buzzed past my ears, The Lord had asked me to dance with Him. I realized that sometimes God wants to take a moment wherever I am and show me one of His dance moves.
As He takes the lead, I follow. I shadow the rhythm of His heartbeat. I trace His melody that He is singing over me. My feet are in sync with His as He guides them smoothly. I track eye to eye with my Father as He brings me into something beautiful. Our hands lock and I’m gently held as He takes control. I realized how important this continuous moment is for me.
I had forgotten the in-between. The beautiful moments of the path. The instances in the route that should be cherished. I’m going forward towards the final destination, but sometimes my steps are not one foot after the other. Sometimes my steps are a dance. He just wants to dance with me for a moment, teach me for a moment, and be with me for a moment as He takes me into a new place.