We rejoice.
We have glimpsed victory and have the assurance of the reconciliation of all things.
And so we dance. But as we move across the floor the tears of others are drawn to us and wrap around us like a blanket. Until all things are made new our dance reveals a world full of hurt and dying. Without missing a beat we find ourselves weeping. Our joy and sorrow weave together as the music swells and fades.
One day we will dance freely. Free in a way we cannot completely understand right now. One day we will know laughter that has fully triumphed over sorrow. Laughter that is pure, that is sure, laughter that is whole. Beauty untouched by brokenness. Or rather, beauty that runs deeper than brokenness, beauty that is victorious. Then the dance will truly begin. The crowd will shift, a space will open, and you will see her there. Uninhibited, joyful and whole.
Then we all will echo the words of Martin Luther King, Jr. “Free at last, free at last. Thank God Almighty, we are free at last.”
Maranatha. Come quickly, Lord Jesus, come quickly.