Last Thursday

Ain’t got a man, but I still got my God. Yea, I cried it out. Then I danced it out. Cause I gotta retrain my brain and remember that God is with me, which means I still have joy.

God, I’m thankful for that man. I understand logically about why it didn’t work. But logic only goes so far. Sometimes I just need…

Jazzercise. And three women in their 60s shuffling on rec center linoleum to old school beats and the instructions of an upbeat Jazzercise professional announcing the moves from stage into her headset microphone.

Thank God for black culture and for the joy it brings my heart.

The soulfulness of those moves – even the low impact ones – enlivened me, as did the witness of those strong women who walked or bused through the ice and snow to get there, not to mention whatever obstacles they overcame at home.

Thank you, Lord, and praise your Name– to the front, back and sides. Now walk it out with me, God. Walk. It. Out.

Acceptance. And Faith. God, You made the whole universe. Are You gonna take care of me? Hmmm. I don’t know. I think God’s on vacation today. Oh, God? He done forgot about you! God? God? Are you there?

Even if I don’t feel it, even if I can’t explain it, even if it hurts to admit it, my God holds me in existence and never lets go. God, You is the BOSS; the MAN; my HERO. You are with me every single nanosecond of the day. Now, why do I question that?

Pain. Suffering. Little things that hurt my heart and make my sensitive eyes squirt some tears. Yet even then, and especially then, You’re totally close to all the shattered pieces of that vital organ – which despite the emotional rubble, bump, bump… bump, bump… is still pumping blood through my veins. You’re still with me. Thank you, God!

How many times, God, do You have to show me Your perfect love…the fact that I had exactly the right amount in my wallet today at the dentist today, or that You surround me with students who make me laugh, friends who walk the life with me, and a roommate with good advice? You show up millions of times each day, if I just had the eyes to see.

My roommate shared one sign of God’s love in her well- timed kernel of wisdom: “Relationships are like farts. If you try to force them, they’re just crap.”

Yes, God, You surely take care of me.

First Grade offered another bowel story.

My class made a “Fisher’s of Men” craft at the end of the day. They put six dots of glue on two popsicle sticks to hold string which would become a net. Most kids finished that step within a few minutes. One child took a bit longer.

Finally, he put the glue bottle down and said, “I’m pooped! That gluing really pooped me out!”

I wanted to laugh then, but it got funnier.

“I think I just gotta move,” he said, and he circled his arms, shook his shoulders and twisted his hips in his seat.

He also moved his fingers, with his arms still outstretched, as if he was playing piano. He really thought that physical movement would undoubtedly help him with the next part of his project – which we won’t do until tomorrow.

Oh, God. If I have You, I still have hope and joy and love and life and freedom and dancin’ and the promise that my dreams and desires will be realized. You put all that in my heart and You ain’t a liar, a fool or a bad dancer…though Your timing is certainly not my timing.

In the meantime, I can recognize the gift of your Presence daily and take the advice of the Deacon at my church: “Praise the Lord while you wait!”

Ow! Sometimes that’s plain hard, but how else am I gonna make it? My roommate also told me that life isn’t a pity party, and yea, that hurts too. But it’s true.

God, when I’m on the floor, dance with me. Life is still an adventure. You are still my Joy.

Help me to trust totally in You.