Bigger Picture Moment: I Danced

In a crowd of mothers and children, Mia and I stood together.  She alternately clung to me and pushed away from me, needing to have her own space.  We were dancing, you see.

Her preschool hosted a special Mother's Day Chapel this week, inviting moms to come spend a few minutes in celebration with their children.  There were milk and cookies, hand-made cards and gifts, and singing.  Dancing.

These are songs the kids know from preschool -- loud, foot-stomping, energy-boosting, God-loving songs.  They dance to these rhythms and sing these syllables weekly, and they love it. 

I didn't know the words.  I didn't know the actions.  I didn't know who was watching.  I didn't want to look like an idiot, mouthing the wrong lyrics and bouncing to the wrong beat. 

But I did it anyway.  Not well, mind you, and not with perfect enthusiasm...but just enough.  Just enough to hopefully show my daughter that it's okay to look silly and it's okay to dance, no matter who sees and no matter how little you know of the song. 

She's only just now -- this year -- broken out of the shyness that made her sit still and quiet in music class, not participating.  Her little sister is still mired in that doubt.  And I do believe there will come another day, in the years to come, that Mia will stop dancing again.  She'll look around and worry about who's watching and how perfect her technique is (or isn't).  I hope not, but I'm prepared for that eventuality because I did it, too.  And I still do.

I hate to think of who's watching, evaluating my lack of talent, when really, they're probably too busy having fun to even notice my movement.  What they would notice was a person standing stark still in the middle of a room full of motion.  But that's not why I danced. 

I sang the wrong words and bounced at the wrong times.... 

I waved my arms and laughed when I did it backwards.... 

I held Mia's dancing hands and clapped with her in joy....

Because it was all beautiful anyway.  And for that moment, on that day, in this season, both of us hid our fears.  We're teaching each other, it would seem:  I want her to always dance, and I want to always dance, too.  Especially when we can do it side-by-side, oblivious to the world around us.

We're seeing the Bigger Picture through simple moments -- moments that force us to stop and take notice of the ways our worlds are important, meaningful, and beautiful. Please join us today! Grab the button, link up and then go forth and encourage the two people before you while they are walking this journey of intentional living.