Crazier

Crazier by Taylor Swift is on an infinite loop in my now playing list. Taylor’s been going at it this whole afternoon. But for some reason, I can’t turn her off. Can’t replace her with Rita Springer, Lisa Gungor, Watermark, Vicky Beeching, Kari Jobe or any of my usual WMP dominators just yet.

I dunno. There’s something about the waltzy feel of the Hannah Montana Movie theme song that just pulls a trigger in my heart.

I know it’s supposed to be a love song and it’s supposed to be about a guy who dances with a girl and makes her go gaga when he looks into her eyes. Admittedly, yeah, I did first fall in love with the song because of that dimension. But as my laptop plays the song for the nth time, I’m no longer thinking about that guy who “[lifts] my feet off the ground, [spins] me around” and “[makes] me crazier, crazier.”

Truth is, my mind is now on the Guy who truly “[showed] me what livin’ is for”.

My Daddy God.

I have this wild, crazy and vivid imagination which helps me out as an artist and as a writer. And I believe it’s a God-given imagination. As the song continues to play, an image of a beautiful girl is painted on my mind. She’s wearing this real pretty dress – cream, almost white – and she’s standing in this wide open field with blues and greens stretched out before her horizon. A gentle breeze is messing up her black-chocolate hair, but she doesn’t care anyway. Because as she looks towards the hills and the valleys, this Man walks up from behind her, taps her shoulder, and asks her to dance.

I’ll make the long story short and just say that I’m actually that girl and the Man asking me to dance is actually my Daddy God.

Just the thought of God asking me to dance with Him brings tears to my eyes.

Maybe it’s because I have mixed emotions about dances. I mean, I really used to hate dances (especially high school dances) because nobody really asked me to dance back then. I mean, I used to sit through an entire party watching everybody else dance and wait until the end to get that one pathetic dance with the guy who would feel sorry enough for that poor lil’ ol’ wallflower.

Well, I got healed from that. But still the thought of somebody really wanting to dance with me turns me into this big cry baby.

And that somebody being Daddy God – well, let’s just say right now, I am so reduced to mush.

 

And so at this moment, I am waltzing with the Divine. I’m allowing Him to take me into His arms, allowing Him place His hands into mine… I’m letting Him spin me around, letting Him lift my feet off the ground… And I’m giving Him permission to look into my eyes, into my very soul, rendering me completely vulnerable… I’m allowing His strong nature to lead my fragile one, allowing Him

to simply lead me in this dance called life.

…

Well, Taylor Swift is still singing it out. Sigh. I’m not stopping her. Cause I’m still caught up in that dance with my Daddy God.