my dancing heart

I was in awe the first time I saw my sweetheart’s heartbeat on an echocardiogram (EKG) screen.  He appeared somewhat less impressed at the sight, but then, he was wearing a hospital gown and being continuously prodded with a jelly-soaked wand throughout the viewing.   His heart, on the other hand, was just dancing away, dancing to its own drum, not a single other care in the world, and it hadn’t stopped for a breather once in its  e n t i r e   l i f e.

Check out the moves on that beautiful breaker baby inside you!
~

~
When I feel dejected or tired, I try to remember the example my heart is setting, and it shames me into going that extra mile.

I find it hard most of the time to take seriously (“take to heart”) the idea that love should “bear all things, believe all things, hope all things, endure all things”.  Or that we should love God with all our hearts and all our soul and all our strength and all our mind.  These are lovely idealizations, but in practice…  all?  What does that level of unwavering love even look like?  In what kind of world is it possible?  When I am tempted to gloss over this instruction as hyperbole, I remember my dancing heart.

~