Fly

Sometimes…sometimes, I just wish I could fly. 

I wish I could get up above the city lights and dance in the clouds. I don’t want to be on this earth, because it’s too heavy. There are too many things in this world that clamor and clang. I want to listen to the orchestra of the heavens. I imagine that the stars sing, but they play instruments too, heavenly instruments that no mortal being has ever seen or dreamed up. To be free to dance in a world without any sound but beautiful, celestial music is too much to dream. 

I get so tired of everything that happens. Writing is the only way I can escape. I can drown myself in a sea of words, visions, and landscapes that have never come to pass. My soul seems trapped by the challenges of every day life, even though mine is relatively easy. People come and go, chores that must be done, tasks that make up life. But to be free…oh, to be seized by that wonderful break from the chaos, to dance in a world where nothing but love and light live, would be divine. I think that is what Heaven must be, to have a world where spinning and dancing and making music and flying among the stars is acceptable, because they are worshipping God. We’ll sing and raise our voices and give all glory to God in the highest. And the stars will be a tangible landscape. It’s not so distant after all. 

How can I cut free here on earth? How can I escape? My head feels full of do’s and don’ts, lists of memories, questions, and unconquerable tasks. It’s not that I mind this place…no, I guess I do mind. I don’t even understand what I’m longing for, but I know that nothing on this earth will satisfy it forever. There’s only so close I can get to Heaven from earth. Only so high I can reach. 

As I look about me, I see the details of an ordinary, comfortable life, but there must be more. I am sure there is. Can laundry and cleaning and school and cooking be all there is to life? Isn’t there more? How does one find it? How can I seize it? Can’t I dance among the stars now? Why do I have to wait? 

I want to find purpose. I’ve never thought of this before, I have only gone through my whole life thinking about me, but it’s not about me. The stars don’t shine for their own glory, they shine to magnify each other. They can’t shine alone. If I shine only for myself and on my own, I’ll never learn to dance. Somehow, I have to learn the steps as I watch the others around me. When I watch my own feet I fail. Show me then, the men and women who have learned the steps so that I may learn, and then show me enough, that I can show others the steps to the eternal dance. Show me that I may fly through the stars and be carried away by the music for my LORD, for that is the only reason I exist. Why am I here but to serve the master who breathed life into my nostrils. This is my song of prayer and praise. Teach me the steps, oh, LORD, I want to know them. 

My purpose in life? To love God. To Love people. To deny myself. I want to be a shining star in the universe, but I can’t do that unless I am kindled by the SUN of the universe. There’s only one Sun, it gives us life. There’s only one Son and he gave me mine. 

So here I am, Oh Lord. Teach me your ways. I dance at your feet, but I don’t know the steps. Show me. Lead me. Let me see when all is too dark around me. Raise my head from this clouded earth and let me walk among the starlight. Will you let me dance for you? Help me, God. I give you all I have. My words, my music, my hands, my feet, my eyes, my tongue, my ears, my song. I lay them before you. I will dance. 

The music is a whirling tapestry of motion and color. I want to be the thread. Will you use me to create an image of yourself? Will you let me bind a wound, or set the captive free? My life will not be my own. Nothing I do will be but for your Glory. Renew in me a clean heart, God. Meet me in this place. Teach me to dance. I come before you with broken feet and deaf ears. Teach me to hear the music of your Word, Your Breath, and lead me through the dance. Lead me through your beautiful world. Let me fly in the stars.