Slow Dancing

It has been impossible for me to write much of anything since I had a certain kind of encounter with someone a couple of weeks ago. I feel bad about not posting, but nothing seems right and until I can get a handle on what happened and why and how it all seems to be "freezing" my heart...I just don't know how long this coldness will continue. Nevertheless, I will attempt to build at least on this one, though I have several drafts I'm working on. I can't seem to get any calmness yet in my heart. Pray with me and for me, if you choose and perhaps a light will return. Thank you ahead of time for your prayers.
The other night, a friend was discussing her relationship with her 'guy.' She said something about how things change so much once you get engaged. That prompted me to bring up some of the marriage counseling skills I learned in years back, and to reflect again on how and why my marriage failed.
We enter each relationship as a kind of dance. Some relationships are jitterbugs, some are 'bumps,' some are 'hustles,' some are 'foxtrots,'and some are just slow dances. But in each one, we find our comfortable 'distance' with out partner. Some we want to hold close, others at arms' length. But, in every relationship, when one person moves closer or farther away, we respond to that move without even thinking. Some people, hopefully ones who are choosing marriage, have a desire to grow closer. Other relationships can't survive without rigid, very specific distances. When that space between too people grows too close or too far away for only one of the partners in the dance, that partner may pick up the pace, change the dance or start looking for another partner.
It's just the way relationships work. It's a given. It takes two like minds to marry. It takes only one change of heart for a divorce.
I put my hands out on the table about six inches apart to offer a visible example. And then I remembered my own divorce. I changed the rules. I got an education, a math degree. That created more self-respect. More self-respect meant for me that I wanted a closer better relationship with my husband. He wanted the status quo. No one was truly right or wrong. The music changed and we were left staring at each other, wondering why.
Such is the case in all relationships. Not one is stagnant. If it is, it is not a relationship. Everything grows and changes. You work with it and at it or you lose it. You get to almost sleep on someone's shoulder while still moving to a gentle simple song. You get to hear heartbeats and smell soap or maybe Downey fabric softener. You learn the difference between wool and linen and the stars feel close enough to touch when you close your eyes. It's like floating on water. It can be a marriage or just a very good friend. Or even only a brief encounter, like the ones I know when I visit people in the hospitals. Those dances are slow dances.
Yesterday I had an amazing encounter with a woman I bring Communion to in her home. As always, a series of God events brought us together. As usual, I grow to deeply love the people I am blessed to visit with. They bring me so much more than I can ever give. Yesterday, this woman told me again how much I mean to her. And of course, I told her what a blessing she is to me.
Some time ago, there was a PBS special, John Bradshaw, who said :"Mothering is the love you are willing to receive from women. Fathering is the love you are willing to receive from men."
I get a lot of mothering from this wonderful woman. She told me she was cleaning out a old purse and found a bunch of wonderful gems. Somewhere in all the conversation, she said she knew how much I loved John Paul II and pulled out a rosary she said she got from Rome. It has beautiful red beads and the medallions are of JPII. She said, "I want you to have it." and I started to cry. I told her she had answered a prayer for me. I wanted a rosary from Rome for a long time. I didn't tell her that, but I just cried. She said, "Oh,hell, I didn't mean to make you cry." I smiled and said that I cry a lot and not to be concerned about it. She said, "It is always so good to be with you. We can talk about religion. No one wants to talk about religion with me."
That's the dance. We enter into each other's lives and hold hands. For a time, we hear the same music and we dance. And God smiles.

Love,
Cindy