He Danced (#SmallWonder Link-Up)


A community is only being created when its members accept that they are not going to achieve great things, that they are not going to be heroes, but simply live each day with new hope, like children, in wonderment as the sun rises and in thanksgiving as it sets . . . The beauty of humanity is in this fidelity to the wonder of each day. - Jean Vanier in Community and Growth

Twilight fell and the campfire flickered. 

A small, clear voice rose, “The floooo-wer grooooows, and the house, and the stooooop signs, and the caaaars.” He was just getting warmed up.

Later, his body twisted and turned, arms in the air, waving, then down at his sides.  His hips wiggled, feet stomped.  He spun, swooped, shook, with a far off look in his eye, his body responding intuitively, impulsively to the sounds of the singer, the acoustic guitar. 

Four year old Isaiah stole the show last night.

His twin brother, Levi, drifted off to sleep, tucked into the nest formed by my arms and legs, a fleece blanket pulled up tight around his cheeks.  Sleep hits him like a freight train come seven thirty.  Seated on the ground by the fire’s warmth, I swayed like a cradle and watched his eyelids drift.  Lifting his face, he said, “I’m going to sleep now for a little while.  Wake me up when they clap because that means it’s the end.”

Isaiah danced so long and so hard he finally flopped right down on the ground, huffing and puffing.  Then he was up again, moving and shaking and running over to his Daddy and I every minute or two, a desperate look on his tired little boy face.

“Is it almost done?” he asked.

Afterwards, he was proud.  

“Someone told me ‘Thankyou,’” he said, “and someone else patted me on the back.”

It was a big and important thing he did, that dancing.  He danced with serious abandon, every move an extension of his soul. 

Over fifty people came to hear John Francis perform in the lap of our great, wide yard, underneath the dark night and stars. 

Kids tore in every direction on wheels of every shape and size. 

Our dog, Coco, chased kids and chickens like it was her job. 

Donations were collected and we raised $400 to help provide hot, home-cooked, Thanksgiving meals for local families in need. 

We huddled close around the fire in the surprisingly cool night air.  We shivered and laughed, shrugged under blankets.  We sang along and clapped our hands and I felt the goodness of a frequent smile on my face. 

But the best part of it all, by far? 

My son – he danced.  

*   *   *

Welcome to the #SmallWonder link-up.

What if we chose to deliberately look for the small moments of wonder, the small sparks of presence, of delight or sorrow, of true humanity in which we meet God? 

That's my proposal - that we gather here each week to share one moment of Wonder from each of our days.  

You're invited to link-up a brief post about a small moment of wonder.  Don't worry if your post is too long, too short, or not just right - you're welcome to come as you are.  

While you're here, please do take a look around and encourage at least one other blogger with a comment.       


  1. There's something to be said about childlike abandon & innocence. It always awakens something deep within us. So grateful to have read this today! May Isaac always dance!

  2. Wish I could have seen your son dance. I'm sure it was beautiful. I got to watch a 5-yr-old dance to Frozen over the weekend in one of those spontaneous moments. Such delight. Little things mean a lot.

  3. Oh I love this... I love that he danced with such purpose and commitment! Who can know what things he loosed in the midst of all that dancing!

  4. I am amazed at your initiative in hosting that fundraiser! What a great idea and what a terrific and practical way to share the love of God.

    1. Thanks, Michele. We've always dreamed of having a house concert here and turning into a fundraiser seemed like a good way to go. Our church will make the meals and I'm looking forward to our family being involved.

  5. I love this!!! You painted the scene so well for us - so much so that I want to go out and do the same thing! Except I don't have chickens and would bust a rib dancing probably.

  6. As a mom of boys, this goes straight to my heart - how it was important for the sleepy one and the dancer to know when it was over - and the dancer for dancing like it was his job straight down to his soul! That was his fund-raising gift - his dance! Your story warmed my heart and brought back memories!

  7. So so beautiful. Yes, you painted a great picture with your words....and I could almost hear the songs.

    What a wonderful sight. (And a blessing to all those in your community--what a gift to give away!)

  8. Really enjoyed reading this. Happy to have found your blog and look forward to exploring. Glad to link up for the first time.