One Day I’ll Dance With Him

She calls Him Father. She calls Him friend. But Jen Scheuermann knows He’s inviting her to dance.

With a weary heart and downcast gaze, 
I fold in to His embrace. 
I rest my head upon His chest
And know that I am safe. 
When I’ve no strength He holds me up;
Lost, He points the way.
In His strong arms I’m reassured:
All will be okay.
In my Father’s arms I’m seen and loved,
Not because of things I’ve done—
He tells me I am good enough
Just because He calls me His.

Sometimes—
Sometimes I lean on Him.

I’m off to the well again, 
Empty bucket in my hand.
I’m trying to fill that inner lack
By chasing self-made plans.
Misplaced hope has led me here,
promising to satiate. 
But then I hear Him call my name—
So quiet, so faint.
I turn and see Him sitting there;
Instantly I know: 
He’s been waiting at this well for me. 
He knew where I would go. 
He tilts His head and beckons me,
Sheepishly I walk over.
I take a seat right next to Him,
Set my head upon His shoulder. 
Slowly I pour out my heart, 
Then He extends His hand.
With His help I set the bucket down;
I’m so grateful He’s my friend. 

Sometimes—
Sometimes I sit beside Him.

Round and round and round I spun, 
A self-choreographed routine.
I chose the rhythm and the pace;
Each move designed by me. 
But unexpectedly the music changed;
I stumbled: two left feet. 
A new dance I am learning now,
To a very different beat. 
There’s another couple on the floor; 
They move as if they’re one. 
The same pace and direction— 
Each step in unison. 
It appears she always lets Him lead, 
never going her own way.
How did she learn to dance like that?
And how long did it take?
I long to taste her peace and joy,
But yet, I hesitate.

I sense someone’s eyes upon me.
‘Cross the room, Your gaze locks mine,
And slowly, I realize 
You’ve watched me this whole time.
You make Your way towards me,
Slowly extend Your hand,
Eyes filled with love still locked on mine:
Jen, may I have this dance?

One day—
One day I’ll dance with Him. 