Lysa
TerKeurst
"Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you
free."
John 8:32 (NIV)
My touch has always comforted my youngest daughter,
Brooke.
I remember running errands when she was a baby, knowing we
should
have been home an hour earlier for her nap. But also knowing there were
things
that had to get done, I pressed on, hoping for the best. She started getting
fussy. Soon, whines and whimpers escalated into a full-blown
meltdown.
Although I couldn't do much to comfort her while driving, I
could
reach my arm into the backseat and gently pat her leg. It took a few
minutes,
but eventually she settled down and reached out her tiny hand to hold
mine.
A few years later, Brooke had a performance with her praise
dance
team from school. She loved getting on a stage, so I expected her to be full
of
smiles and giggles. But just a few minutes before the performance began, a
very
distraught Brooke made her way to the audience to find
me.
With tears streaming down her cheeks, she explained that the
teacher had moved her from the front row to the back row, and she didn't
know
the back row's part. I reassured her, "Honey, just get up there and watch
the
other girls for cues and follow in step. You know this dance. You'll be
fine."
She sobbed back, "I won't be fine if I mess up, and I know I'm
going to mess up."
That's when it occurred to me. She would need my touch to get
through this. But we both knew it would be impossible for my arm to reach
all
the way up to the stage. So I quickly whispered, "Brooke, lock your eyes
with
mine, and Mommy will touch you with my smile. Don't look at anyone else. It
doesn't matter if you mess up. What matters is that you keep your eyes on me
the
whole time. We'll do this together."
Quietly she asked, "The whole time,
Mommy?"
"The whole time, Brooke," I replied as I watched my brave girl
walk away to take her place.
Several times during the dance, Brooke fell out of step. She
knew
her steps weren't perfect, so her eyes brimmed with tears. However, the
tears
never fell. With her eyes perfectly locked on my smiling face, she
danced.
My smile was not based on her performance. My smile was born
out
of an incredible love for this precious, courageous little girl. As she kept
her
attention focused solely on my smile and the touch of my gaze, it was as if
the
world slowly faded away and we were the only ones in the
room.
This is the way God wants me to dance through
life.
Though I can't physically see Him, my soul pictures Him so
clearly. In my mind's eye He is there. The touch of His gaze wraps about me,
comforts me, assures me, and makes the world seem strangely dim. As long as
my
gaze is locked on His, I dance and He smiles. The snickers and jeers of
others
fade away. Though I hear their razor-sharp intentions, they are unable to
pierce
my heart and distract my focus. Even my own stumblings don't cause the same
feelings of defeat.
My steps so often betray the desire of my heart, but it is not
my
perfect performance that captures His attention. Rather, it is my complete
dependence on Him that He notices.
He then whispers to my heart, hold on to Me and what I say
about you. For My words are the truth of who you are and the essence of what
you
were created to be. I then imagine Him pausing as He adds, "Then
you
will know the truth, and the truth will set you free" (John
8:32).
His truth frees me from the chains of doubt and insecurity.
His
truth frees me from feeling unable and inadequate to try and pursue God. His
truth washes over me as I tentatively whisper, "I want to be a woman who
says
'yes' to God."
And in that moment, with my eyes locked on His, I
am.
Dear Lord, I want to keep my eyes on You as I dance through
the
highs and lows of my life. Direct my steps today. In Jesus' Name,
Amen.
Happy Thursday,
Richard
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