What ever keeps me close to you Oh God, put it in my life. Though it hurts and aches though it wrenches my heart and soul over and over again, yet will I trust you. At times it pulls me down under the air, I grasp for the pain to stop. I cry out to you, soon my days and nights are ceaseless prayers that bring tears to my eyes for hours until I fall asleep only after I'm weary with struggle. Sometimes I am woken by the struggle once again, I cry out to God, and again I drench my pillow with tears, I finally fall asleep. I'm crying out to you Oh God over and over. I guess that's good if it means that I walk so close to you, but damn, it really hurts. Why does it take pain for us to remember to just rest and abide with you, to trust you, to talk to you, to give up the things we struggle with the most. I'm sure that this post is a broken record, but I'm broken and there is nothing else for me but to be on my face.
I said yes, when my friend asked me if I wanted to go dancing at a downtown café in Denver. My friend assured me that there were lessons before hand, and you didn’t need a partner. I grew up listening to the greats, Count Basie, Billie Holiday, Ella Fitzgerald, Duke Ellington, Frank Sinatra, Glenn Miller, and Benny Goodman. But, until the night that I went dancing with my friend, I hadn’t fully appreciated what I loved listening too so much. The cover charge was seven dollars, and that included an hour of east cost swing lessons, and a live big band performance following, where I practiced what I had just learned in the lesson. It was a welcoming community of people those dancers. I met a few men that had been dancing for years, and said how exited they were that the young people were starting to really dance again. One gentleman in particular named Max, who, I noted, could kick his legs up higher than I could, and never seemed to tire. He danced every dance, and on that first n...
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