Monday, March 10, 2008


Our daughter loves to dance. Every once in a while she asks for one of her favorite CD's (currently it is one with music from a variety of Walt Disney movies) and then jumps up and wants to dance with us. Yesterday she wanted to dance almost the entire evening - and after two CD's I was ready for a break, so I sat down and let her dance by herself. After every song she would run over, grab my hands, and say "Daddy, dance with me." By the end of the night I had danced to the theme from Lion King a number of times and was ready to kick back as she went to bed.

But, instead, I ran out to Culvers for a snack Jennifer and I would share, and on the radio I heard a song, I believe it was by Steven Curtis Chapman, and it had to do with dancing with his daughters. The basic message was, they grow up fast, enjoy the dances, and never put the dances off until tomorrow, because tomorrow they will be grown up - and you may have missed the chance.

Isn't it amazing how God moments pop up when you least expect them!

I started thinking about the things I treasure with our daughter, Jennifer, family, and friends. The blessings are poured out in my life, and sometimes I am just too busy to see them. Has that ever happened to you?

Life is busy. There is always something to do and somewhere to go. But the moments we have now will not necessarily be repeated in the future. We, I, really need to treasure these moments because before I know it, our daughter will be asking permission to go to her first dance, and the three-year-old I swung around the living room will be all grown up. I don't want to miss that chance.

So today, after running around all morning, our daughter asked for the same CD - she wanted to dance. I put the CD on and spun her around the room until dinner. At one point, I sat down for a break, but then was reminded that the chance to dance with her was a special one, and I got back up and we danced more. I am going to dance with her as often as I can. And, I am going to dance more with Jennifer, as long as her toes can handle it:)

I guess my point is - treasure the moments you have with the people around you. We all grow up too fast, and we need to rejoice in what we have been given.

1 comment:

Betty Dygart said...

I have known "God moments." It is at once a surprise when it happens, and yet such a comfort, as if a finger has come out of the heavens and gently tapped you on the shoulder, reminding you that you are not alone in this life.

This past October, my brother and his wife were to celebrate their 50th wedding anniversary and I was at a loss to find "just the right gift" to commemorate the occasion. One of my sisters and I traveled to Branson MO with the Our Savior's/Faith trip in early October and I vowed that I would look, while we were vacationing, for just the right gift.

My sister, in her expected unimaginative manner, told me she was giving them money. Money is so cold and meaningless. No, there HAD to be SOMETHING.

Well, we had spent our days in the southern regions and were on our way back home, and I still had not struck on what that special gift would be. I was beginning to lose hope. A rest-stop was arranged for us at a candy store outlet, (GREAT, just what I needed!!-Ha) But, I went in, bought up that candy, but then I noticed that adjoining the candy store was an antique store. I wandered in, not really expecting to find anything, but needing to kill some time.

I rummaged through old dishes, saw some that my mother had retrieved from soap boxes years ago, and was surprised that such extravagant prices could now be placed on a plate or cup that originally came in a box of "Duz." ("Duz does everything," went the advertising jingle.)

Suddenly, I came around a corner, and hanging above some remnants of the 1950s was an oil painting. At the center of it was a young family, riding in a 1957 Chevrolet hardtop. They were arriving at what had to be the family farm, the grandmother was out in the yard, tending her beautiful flower beds, the family dog ran gleefully beside the car, barking his welcome.

In the distance were tall buildings, but on the gravel road passing before the farm was a sign, "County Line." A tractor putted about in a plowed field, Holstein cattle stood in a distant pasture, ruminating on their cuds. The well-kept white house and red barns spoke to prosperity and pride.


I wrote a page long remembrance to accompany the painting and had it laminated at Staples, reminding my brother and his wife of what life was like in 1957 and how their lives had been supremely blessed.

My brother, married in 1957, drove his first car at that wedding, a 1957 Chevrolet hardtop. My seven siblings and myself were raised on such a farm, experienced such joys, but the farm is gone now, made into a golf course. It is easy to become bitter of the loss and not recall the joy.

Of course, my sister, upon seeing me carrying the painting to the check-out, remarked "What are you getting THAT for?"

When I told her it was to be my gift to Bill and Sandy, she looked a bit closer at it and then said, "The car is the wrong color."

What can you do? "We all fall short of the Glory of God," is all I could conjure up. (I keep praying for her imagination to improve).

But, I wasn't waylaid from my mission. The painting has become one of my brother's most prized possessions; it hangs in his living room where he can view it everyday from his recliner, and feel less guilt over the "loss" of the family farm.

I pray everyone experiences "God moments" at some point in their lives. Maybe they are happening all the time, but we are just too caught up in things being 'the right color.'