This week while sitting in church I experienced a not-so-ordinary thing.
A few mentally handicapped adults sat in the row in front of me. I’ve seen them before as they attend weekly. This time I sat near them. As soon as the music began the woman on the end was on her feet. She did not care if anyone else was going to stand. The music moved her and she went with it.
I watched her as I was drawn into her complete disregard for anyone or anything around her. Her friends down the row kept glancing at her. They were taking cues as to what move they should make next.
As the music began, she began.
Her arms raised high. They flowed back and forth like a child on a swing. She kept rhythm with the music as her arms switched position and would sweep across her chest and cross gently as if she was giving her self a hug. At times she would make a fist and raise it up as if to say, “YES”! Then her fingers would dance like pixie dust was falling from the tips of her hands. Sprinkling something, I don’t really know what?
It was as if she was dancing with her arms in some sort of mysterious sign language that only she knew. From time to time I noticed her wiping her eyes. Tears were falling and she was smiling.
I was a mess.
This was a love exchange. She was clearly communing with God on a level that I could never know. Although I did not see her mouth move to sing. Her arms told the story. God brought her love. She received His love with her embrace. She gave back. Tellin God how she loved Him as she reached upward as if to try to hold on to His hand.
Her gift to God. Arms and tears, danced and shed, love in motion.
Oh I can learn so much from this sweet lady. That I would be so fond of God like this. That I would have eyes to see His gestures of love, mercy, goodness and want to see more. That I would hear Him call and be on my feet in response.
Her image sits with me today as I go about my everyday business.
Love in motion, let it be.