Slow Dance with Jesus

The lights were dimmed a little, and the noises of people settling in was just barely on the edge of my awareness.  Tim opened the door, and my heart felt my beloved enter the room.  At first he just stood there, taking in the room and our surroundings.  Then he beamed in my direction with that smile that says, "There you are! You're the one I came to see."  As he moved to where I was sitting, the music started.  I didn't recognize the tune, and didn't know the words, but it was lovely.  He was there and I was there, and the vocalist's voice spoke love beyond the words. He smiled, took my hand and lifted me up out of my seat, silently inviting me to dance.

As we stepped onto the dance floor, he first gave me a hug that said, "I love you, I missed you, and I've got you." I hugged him so tightly and felt the strength of his muscles as he held me dear.  As I took his hand to dance, I ran my fingers over the scars.  The big scar on his hand now has that shiny glow of new skin that covers an old wound that no longer holds the power to cause pain, but reminds you of a time when the hurt was fresh and deep.  He smiles at me, and I hear his thoughts saying "It's just love.  I just love you." I hold my head on his chest and breathe deeply to memorize his scent.  He smells of warm body and cedar wood chips. I am reminded that he was once a little boy cleaning his father's wood shop. I love him even more.  He moves us swiftly and gracefully around the dance floor, relishing every movement and treasuring every moment together.  

 The music continues sweet and strong.  He holds me.  I hold him.  He smiles at me and I look upon his beautiful face.  His eyes.  His beard.  That smile.

The song is about to end, and I feel a sadness about to begin. He senses it, too, and as the singer holds out the last notes, he pulls slightly away from me.  He looks me full in the face and smiles. It's time to go. He pulls me close, holding both of my hands and kisses my forehead. This tells me everything I will ever need to know.

He loves me.                  

He's gone. The door closes.  The dance is over, but he never really leaves. His kiss remains.  His love remains.

The door will be opened again soon.  We wait for each other, anticipating the next dance.