Dancing with Hope in 2014

Hope, my word for 2014,

was a bit of a surprise.

Because of some things

that happened a long, 

lo-o-o-o-o-ong 

time ago,

Hope has 

never 

been an easy word 

for me.

Or, 

to be quite honest,

one I had much use for,

especially in my teens. 

I sense her companionship

in the coming year might just be

an invitation to heal

in some deeply meaningful ways.

I am willing and feeling ready.

Smiling softly because Hope began

gently knocking 

on the door to my heart,

asking for this dance,

around Thanksgiving

and we are settling in nicely.

When thinking of song lyrics, 

as encouraged in our 

One Little Word project,

the song, 

I Hope You Dance,

by LeeAnn Womack 

one that I love so much 

was the first one 

that came to my heart.

And then I remembered the selfie above

from last summer.

Uneven legs 

are a quiet, 

constant 

reminder 

of my 36-year old cancer journey

(a large part of my 

keeping Hope at arm's length).

Several years ago,

a kind friend called my left 

a "dancer's leg."

This fond image seemed perfect

to begin my dance with

Hope.

As I played with the picture

in PicMonkey

I smiled at thought of me 

dancing in the arena 

of my life.

And

I want to do so,

as best I can in each moment,

while daring greatly.

.     *     .

Adding an afterthought . . . 

The thing I miss 

the very most

about being permanently on crutches

(to the point of *aching* at times)

is dancing 

the Texas-Two Step and Waltzes.

So

it's a very real blessing

to be able to 

tenderly, 

intentionally

reclaim 

the gift of dance

in some small way.