“sit down, mommy. watch me.” so i sat, cross-legged on the floor, in front of a small, square stage in front of the larger stage where the band and rest of the gang were practicing for our evening production. the music was playing, a sweet song that served as a fitting backdrop for a young child’s play. and then she began. the four-by-four foot stage became a wonderland, a worship land. she closed her eyes, stretched out her hands to her side, and swayed back and forth. as she danced, she opened her eyes, moving back and forth. her arms gracefully moving up over her head; her feet spinning her around. and back to the front, just so her toes grazed the edge of the stage, eyes closing, arms out, smile on her face. this was quite possibly the sweetest scene of purity, innocence and worship i had ever seen. here was my baby, my two-year-old princess, pouring out herself for her mommy’s delight. but it went deeper. she had caught the spirit she had witnessed in others. she had danced into the presence of God. and my heart soared. i smiled. i had tears. i softly wiped them away as i watched her in amazement, in true delight. she is of me. she is of my flesh. she is of my spirit. she is my inspiration, for she has given me an experience of my Father’s joy in me.
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