“Ready jump!” I shout and we lift high to the pulsing dubstep sounds, Eye On It by Toby Mac. The infectious beat moves us. We dance and jump with wild abandon.
DeCelie shouts out a “good idea”. She calls it the cha-cha and instructs us to line up and put our hands on each other’s shoulders. DeCelie demonstrates, placing her fingers by Charis’ neck - her ticklish spot - and Charis can’t stop laughing. We bop around in the conga line renamed the “cha-cha,” until the chorus drops and I announce again, “Let’s jump!” And we do. Like complete maniacs.
Conscious happiness jolts through me and I'm smiling something furious. I spin around just in time to witness what was near inevitable...
My smile falls with her little body. I can see what’s about to happen before her head of curls makes impact. I hear it...the wall's punch packs a blow louder than the music.
I run to her. With no time to turn it down, the song continues to pump through the speakers - now sounding more like a frightening soundtrack at the bloody car crash scene of a movie. Only there is no blood. Just tears and two-year-old blood-curdling screams. High piercing decibel - long pause in between - wait for it and brace yourself for the next one- kind of screams.
I rock her there kneeling on the floor, kissing and whispering comfort in her ear. I taste her salty tears and feel her lean into my hold. I think she might be done with this dance. Instead she braces herself on my arms and bravely stands. Just in time for the last chorus, she decides it's better to keep jumping.
Her tears glisten on her cheeks. Her jump is less enthusiastic. But she jumps...jumping for the joy that is higher than her fall.
Her pain still burns. Her determined hope burns hotter still. She overcomes...
I think of the “walls” I’ve hit. I remember how the diagnosis punched. How I screamed helpless in my pillow when the chemotherapy and radiation failed. I remember the pool of tears. And I remember the gracious day I braced myself upon His brace to stand in hope. I see Charis jumping now and I see that hope in motion.
Friend, you've been wounded. Come cry. Weep. Embrace God’s arms and scream. Let Him whisper comfort in your heart. Come closer and let His compassion catch the stain of your pain. He did. That day is scarred in His hands forever. (John 20:20,25)
Remember that day. Refuse despair. Keep hope.
And remember the coming Day. It doesn't feel like it right now but His hope says it will get better. The Last of last choruses will lift you off your feet, believer. And in that new Day, He will wipe every tear from your eyes. For good. (Revelation 21:1-5)
As you wait for that new Day, the pain of the Fall still punches daily. But His coming kingdom is also now...and it's rhythm is infectious healing. So...
Inhale God's comforting Word, friend.
Wait on Him (not your will, but upon Him and His goodwill).
Listen for the healing rhythm of His grace again.
Brace yourself upon His brace. Stand brave.
Dance in the song of His kingdom.
Jump with wild abandon.
The track blares from the kitchen.
Charis' Afro bounces with her. Curls dance in the air. She squeezes her eyes shut, tears fresh on her lashes. She presses the bump on her head. She keeps jumping.
Friend, I can see you there too....pressed down but pressing on.
You seek the Joy that is higher than the Fall.
Yes, I see you there. And I see hope.
P..S. This post was shared with Holley and her friends, join in for some encouragement by clicking the couch below: