For my friends and fellow-travelers who have suffered loss… I mentioned Sunday that while we were singing praises to the Living God I had a “vision.” I don’t know how else to describe it. It launched as small waves of gratefulness began to wash over me, and I recognized the familiar Presence Who has often visited me over the years. I have learned to neither resist, analyze, or control when this happens. It just – happens. Kind of like a gentle, blowing wind…so I gave my heart permission to sing along with my voice. All of a sudden I had an extreme urge to dance, but of course, I would never do that in public (and rarely in private). When you have two left feet the idea of being swept away in an emotional frenzy is quite terrifying. Dave – get a grip. You are NOT going to start dancing. By now I knew the Spirit was giving me one of those few and far between experiences of raw communion. I couldn’t control my tears – but I’ve gotten OK with that – so I let it flow (I’m actually not sure I could have stopped, really). This weird passage came to mind: “Then Moses went up with Aaron, Nadab and Abihu, and seventy of the elders of Israel, and they saw the God of Israel; and under His feet there appeared to be a pavement of sapphire, as clear as the sky itself. Yet He did not stretch out His hand against the nobles of the sons of Israel; and they saw God, and they ate and drank. Exodus 24:9-11 I closed my eyes, and all of you began to dance. Wow! Not just like couples dance (although many of us were) but more like dancing souls. Each one of us (Scott and Inez/Dennis and Gretchen/many children – to name a few faces I could see) were all dancing around me. It wasn’t so much the dancing as the freedom that was everywhere. It really was quite spectacularly beautiful. And all of a sudden we were all before His throne together, in the New City, and I had finally become emotionally free to dance. I felt like I was spinning through the air – and most of all – I felt free! Someone began to talk to me – asking me what was happening. I remember saying, “I am so sorry – there is no time to talk – it is time to dance!” All I could do was continue to dance. I was free to dance. And it was exhilarating to my Spirit – to be so free! And then, there she was, a young woman in a white dress. The most beautiful dancer of us all. She was moving – flowing actually – weaving through the room. In and out and among our dear friends. I strained my mind to recognize her. Everyone else was familiar. She was new. Long brown hair. Graceful womanly face. Unfettered by the strain of bondage. Free. And then it hit me like a wonderful cut to my heart. It was my granddaughter Rebekah. Dancing effortlessly, without inhibition. Peaceful and preoccupied to her core with The Dance. It was her. As she glided past me (this felt awfully real) she didn’t look at me so much with recognition as with expectation. Her face revealed everything. It was all about The Dance. That’s why I couldn’t say anything on Sunday. It was just too much. Even now as I put this down I am overcome and weeping at the image of what I saw. For all that my dear daughter Rachel and her husband Eric have lost – Rebecca is free. And waiting for us to join her. Waiting for us to be free to dance. Selah.