My Girl

She moves like a dancer. 

In a coffee shop.

From the oven where she starts the scones. 

To the coffee machine. 

I hear the shoosh of beans loading in.

The music is turned up loud. Yesterday, she explained to me how syncopated rhythms release endorphins. I think it's what makes her blood flow. Heart beat. Mind awake. Body take courage to face the day.

We left a little later today. At least not 5:30 AM. I'm waiting here in this funky little coffee shop until church starts. 

My girl. She makes me proud. 

And brings me to my knees. 

I'd die for her in a heartbeat, but some days I break her heart. And some days she breaks mine.

This dance between mother and daughter can be a violent one. Like a tango.

But it can be a waltz too. Smooth, airy, sweet.

God, give us grace enough to keep dancing through the seasons, years, changes, misunderstandings, offenses, hurts, joys, celebrations. 

No matter the rhythm, help us just turn up the music loud.

And dance.

Thank you to all those who left comments last weekend on "Thirty Days of Thanks." The winner of the One Thousand Gifts Devotional is . . . Sue Mullen!