Wanna Dance…

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One summer in high school I went to see the local community theatre production of Fiddler on the Roof. My friend was in it.

It was there that I fell instantly and irrevocably in love with Blaine Jacobson. He would grow pudgy and off-key not two summers later, for a very disillusioning performance of Carousel. But for now, he played Perchik, the rogue intellectual from Kiev. He had curly black hair, olive skin, and the most adorable way of singing through his nose. I immediately volunteered to work back stage.

For four performances I watched him from the wings and breathed the perfume off of his costume before he walked on.

Being in the theatre would have been good for me at the time and I could feel God nudging me to audition for the next show, but fear sat heavy on the dream. It’s an old enemy, see? We’ve been fighting it for a while.

During the cast party I couldn’t take it anymore, God’s nudging or my crush. I sat in the metal folding chair in the corner of the auditorium dressed all in black and made a deal with God. I said, “God, if Blaine Jacobson comes over and talks to me right now I will audition for the next show.”

At that moment Blaine Jacobson inconceivably decided to notice me, approach me, and ask me if I was going to dance with everyone else. I managed to mumble and fumble a refusal, blushed viciously, and kept sitting hard in my chair. God smiled to himself and I smiled back into the heavens abashed. I didn’t have the heart to audition for the next show and we both knew it. It would take me two more shows before I would fulfill my end of the metal folding chair bargain.

God listens.

My writing time has been moving around and sometimes gets swallowed whole. What was a little break after finishing my book, has started to become the self-loathing indicative of a victorious Resistance. This morning in Moms’ group I prayed that if God wanted me to write he would help me find the time to make it happen.

This evening the power went out in my husband’s office and the whole building went home. James came home four hours early.

Now I’m writing.

Sometimes when you ask for something it takes a while. But sometimes, yes, sometimes, Blaine Jacobson crosses the room and asks you to dance.

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