Tuesday, October 31, 2006

A Familar Dance


Sometimes God calls someone very familiar to dance with us (see Lord of the Dance post as reference). My best friend from high school is like that. I live in Illinois and she in California. We have a relationship that transcends time and distance. Though we haven’t lived a mile apart since 11th grade, we seem to just be able to pick up and “dance” whenever we talk or meet.

It was during a visit to Janet's this past summer that my father-in-law passed away. It was a difficult time not only for the loss of my sons' grandfather, but of reliving the reality of death. We made arrangements to fly home early, but decided to spend that last day at the beach with Janet and her family.

That evening we stayed up late talking, knowing our time was limited. As I climbed the stairs to bed, I heard a familiar sound. You see, growing up Janet and I sang together. We sang in church quite often or would simply sit down in her basement at the piano and sing for hours (I was always secretly envious of her piano ability). As I heard her begin to play the old song “Whatever It Takes” on the piano, I turned around and headed back down the stairs.

I took my place next to her on the piano bench and we began to sing. The words came back to us perfectly—it was as if God had said “take this gift of memory”. We got to the verse “Take the dearest things to me, if that’s how it must be, to draw me closer to thee. Take my houses and lands, change my dreams and my plans for I am placing my whole life in your hands”—tears began to flow from the corner of my eyes as I thought of how God had orchestrated this moment. Yes, it sounded and felt like “old times” and that alone was enough: however, my life was equally blessed that the words to a song I had sung many times as a child had become reality in my life; a testamony to the providence and power of God in this life. My oldest and dearest friend was not afraid to take the lead and dance a familiar dance, a familiar dance partner indeed. I will forever treasure that.

This I know for sure.

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

I never was interested in seeing two women dancing together. To think of two men? yuk! But if dance we must...would it not be most natural in relationships? Especially those which last and last. I remember those two girls singing. I am not sure that I remember what they sang.

Yet, I suppose, if one must dance he or she needs to learn the song. It seems that somewhere in scripture I have read that singing and dancing go together.

Certainly life and experience has taught me that if relationships last especially over the miles there must be the music of communication even though it may staccato because of distance. It only enhances and draws us together. Thus, when severity comes upon one, the relationship begins to produce song.

It is true sweetheart...calamity does not have to hinder the relationship. One never realizes how one can restore the melody in the life of another...until they realize they have been singing all the time.

Janet said...

I have never been big on "silver linings" since I generally prefer gold; but one of the shining events to come out of tragedy has been for me to resume the "dance" and to know that it is even better than before. What a joy to know that the wonderful gift of friendship that God gave to us so many years ago has only broadened and deepened as we have journeyed through joyful and sorrowful times. You inspire me daily to keep dancing!!
Love, Janet

mfisteach said...

Janet,
What beautiful words from such a great friend. Isn't it funny how time and distance doesn't matter when "picking up where we left off". I am amazed that it is as if you still live a mile away and we have tied up our snow boots to "meet in the middle" on those Nebraska snow days or I have frantically called you and said "Janet, hurry and call me back. Invite me to dinner. We are having something nasty" only to get to your house and find that Wilma (mom #2-did you know she signed her email to me that way) had fixed cow tongue and powdered milk! Keep looking back at the site. Your mom has promised some sweet pictures of us when we were mere children to add to the blog.
Love ya sis,
Marsha