Holding Toes

Hands were meant for holding it seems, and long have been the standard for acceptable public  displays of affection… holding hands.

Walking down the street.

Heading into the restaurant.

Watching the movie.

Waiting for your meal to be delivered to your table.

All these times of holding hands are special and wonderful events of simple love.

When observed from a nearby viewer who has no hand to hold, it could bring sadness or hope, but the hand-holders wouldn’t know.

But when we get back home.

When we are alone on the sofa.

Watching that favorite show, or movie, or listening to the Piano music on Spotify, that most intimate of times has arrived.

The time for holding toes.

You have beautiful toes.

I’ve said it many times, and it’s clear it may embarrass  you, but the fact remains, I love those toes.

When your neuropathy is overwhelming and I rub your feet, I pay attention to those toes.

When I’m pursuing your love, when I want to make it ultimately clear just how much I love you, I kiss those toes.

The amazing thing about toes is how important they are to how we move.

Dancing.  Posture.  Balance.  Walking, running, jumping.  All dependent on the toes.

I love watching you dance.

I love watching you walk, to me… and away from me.

I love how you glide across a room like a perfectly balanced high-wire tight-rope walker.

It makes my soul want to walk with you on the not-so-beaten path and see what none has seen before.

It makes my heart jump like the silly frog leaping from pad to pad in the pond.

It makes me want to run to you again and again and again.

I’ve said it over and over, until I’m sure you must tire of hearing it, but once again… I love your toes.

When we’re laughing, when we’re crying, watching that favorite show, when the lights around the pool have waned to just a faint glow… it is the touch of your toe that I crave.

That one last touch at night before I go off to sleep, that first hello as morning breaks again, it is the touch of your toe that I crave.

For me, forever, it will be… about… touching toes.

Dancing with Joy

Dancing

#18:  348 yard dog leg left, fairway bunkers at 275 on the right, green-side bunker back and left.  As I walked up to the green, after this exotic roller-coaster round of golf, 4 lost balls later, I was dancing with joy to learn I was about 5 feet for par on the final hole.  Apple Rock Golf Course that day pretty much ate my lunch.  But what a ride!  The greens were immaculate, and rolled true, leaving little margin for error in either direction or speed.  And I mean lightning fast speed!  At 6,536 yards from the “regular” men’s tees, this course is a beast.  As I was dancing with this beast, I found new meaning in the give-and-take of life.

Like Job at times, I suffered as this course would take a reasonably well-struck shot, and within a heartbeat of landing in the fairway, was out-of-bounds left due to the slope of the terrain.  This stuck me then, as it does now, as a perfect metaphor for this life I live today.

Job said, [Job 1:1]
“Naked I came from my mother’s womb, and naked I shall return there. The LORD gave and the LORD has taken away.  Blessed be the name of the LORD.” 

Job’s perspective is not always easy to come to, is it?  Things are rockin’-and- rollin’ along and life’s pretty good, then whammo!  Everyone has “stuff” that happens to them, rocking their world, emotionally, financially, physically, or relationally.  When the “taken away” part happens, it usually doesn’t result in much dancing does it?

The same guy (Job) that had it all “taken away” also came to realize that God also “gave.”  The balance of knowing that God is sovereign, loves us unconditionally, and has a purpose for our existence, is what caused Job to declare through it all … Blessed be the name of the LORD!

This is the verbal equivalent of DANCING!  And when you’re dancing, you also gain another insight, verbalized by Job in 19:25.

As for me, I know that my Redeemer lives, and at the last He will take His stand on the earth.  Even after my skin is destroyed, yet from my flesh I shall see God; Whom I myself shall behold, and whom my eyes will see and not another. 

Sometimes it seems we are so close to God, so close to contentment, so close to discovering the real meaning of life, kind of like this 5-foot par putt.  Then our human frailty lifts its head, and we miss the putt.  Suddenly we allow our emotions to cloud our judgment, so we beat ourselves up for failing, instead of just enjoying the dancing.

In the now famous words of Lee Ann Womack

I hope you never lose your sense of wonder
You get your fill to eat but always keep that hunger

May you never take one single breath for granted
God forbid love ever leave you empty handed

I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean
Whenever one door closes I hope one more opens

Promise me that you’ll give faith a fighting chance
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance

I hope you dance
I hope you dance

 

[Photo taken 11/1/2017 Apple Rock Golf Course #18]

Dancing