Dance convention and competition. Our own personal version of March Madness.
This season means the some of the kids and I are off our usual Sunday routine of worshipping with our church family.
We miss it. We miss our friends, the corporate time in the Word, the praise and worship.
We use the time on the road as a kind of devotional time. We listen and sing to praise and worship music, listen to teaching podcasts, discussing and talking and asking questions.
And there is an interesting thing that happens while sitting in these darkekned auditoriums where these dance events are held. The music of the various dance pieces fills the room. There are dance pieces that are contemplative. Some that are celebratory. Some that are edgy. Some that are sad. Some that are joyful.
I see played out before me the range of human emotion and experience.
And it is told through the miraculous movement of the human form. Neurnons firing, limbs responding. Choreography remembered and executed.
What a Creator we serve, One that would equip the human form in His image and make it such an ambassador of unspoken communication. Hands held just so. Legs extended. Necks turned. Music, movement, dance.
Church, of sorts.
We are fearfully and wonderfully made indeed.
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