Read:
“Now his older son was in the field, and as he came and drew near to the house, he heard music and dancing. And he called one of the servants and asked what these things meant. And he said to him, ‘Your brother has come, and your father has killed the fattened calf, because he has received him back safe and sound.’ But he was angry and refused to go in. His father came out and entreated him, but he answered his father, ‘Look, these many years I have served you, and I never disobeyed your command, yet you never gave me a young goat, that I might celebrate with my friends. But when this son of yours came, who has devoured your property with prostitutes, you killed the fattened calf for him!’”
Respond:
You don’t dance with me like You do with her. Of course, I’ve seen Your movements in my heart. I know the ways we’ve grown and loved one another. I know the ways I’ve been distant and the ways You’ve pulled me back.
But still, I can’t help but notice that Your dance with her is different.
You don’t dance with me like You do with her. You love her in ways I don’t recognize, but they’re personal and perfect. I see the way she lights up around You, when she notices things about You that I’ve never noticed. Her time with You is sometimes longer than mine, louder than mine, different than mine in more ways than one.
Should my dance look like hers?
Watching her with You is like seeing a new You unfold before my eyes. An ever-new You, and an ever-new her, two hearts moving in perfect sync. I watch so closely, and I miss a few steps of our dance.
A quick stumble and You’ve steadied me. We find the music again. I glance back over, and I see You with her still.
Yet, here You are with me. We dance in all the personal ways that I’ve known.
You never left me when You danced with her. I don’t know how, but it’s true. And in all of this joy of seeing that You’ve stayed, I look around. You’re moving in a million different ways with millions of people.
I see her watching us, too.
She smiles, and we all continue to dance.
Read:
“And he said to him, ‘Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. It was fitting to celebrate and be glad, for this your brother was dead, and is alive; he was lost, and is found.’”
Luke 15:25-32
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For more prayers + meditations like this, grab a copy of Detailed Love: Meditations on God’s Intentional Presence, new to the shop.
Aubrey Major is an artist and designer living life joyfully in the Midwest. She has a new favorite color every week, loves laughing any chance she can get, and scrolls through Spotify playlists way more than any social media. She is passionate about loving the world through her creativity and designing unique things that help others see the goodness in their lives. Join her in making art and collecting inspiration here.
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