July 1, 2008 ~ A Time To Dance

There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven: a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot, a time to kill and a time to heal, a time to tear down and a time to build, a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance, a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them, a time to embrace and a time to refrain, a time to search and a time to give up, a time to keep and a time to throw away, a time to tear and a time to mend, a time to be silent and a time to speak, a time to love and a time to hate, a time for war and a time for peace. Ecclesiastes 3:1- 8

This morning, with the permission of my oncologist, I began my exercise regimen anew. Since March when I became ill, I have been unable to continue the exercise program that I had established and I have come to miss it terribly. Rest is good for healing the body, of course, but exercise is essential for good health and balance too. Previously, my low blood counts made most exercise out of the question, but with the great news we received last Wednesday also came my doctor’s blessing upon a more active workout program. She warned me that “contact sports” were still out, and I assured her that I would try to wean myself away from roller derby and women’s wrestling!

Now, I’m not one of those rare individuals that love to exercise and look forward to it. No, unfortunately I am one of the throngs of people who have to drag myself to the exercise machines and will myself to begin pedalling the bike or moving the belt on the treadmill. I can sum up most of my issues with exercise in four little words: I. Hate. To. Sweat. I’m more of a “peel me a grape” kind of a girl, if I just went with my natural tendancies, but I’ve come to know that those natural tendancies aren’t good for me. God gave me this body, and I am committed to doing my small part to assist in its healing process, while I depend on God for all the heavy lifting, healing-wise.

So, instead of hitting the snooze button (five or six times!) when the alarm rang at 6 a.m. like I usually do, I sat up, threw my pajama-clad legs over the side of the bed, rubbed the sleep away from my eyes and changed into the workout clothes I had set out last night before I went to bed. I sleepily made my way upstairs to our little home gym, turned on the local news and began pedalling away on my favorite workout machine – my stationary bike. And I’d love to tell you that it was pure joy, but oh, it was hard! Where did my muscles go? They clearly were off enjoying their vacation in some soft hammock on a sunny beach somewhere in parts-unknown, because they definitely weren’t showing up in my body this morning! The fitness progress I’d made before my diagnosis with cancer, is long-gone I’m afraid. I had hoped to do at least 20 minutes, but I quickly realized that I would have to readjust that goal. I barely made it to 15 and when I got up to leave the room, my legs felt like wet noodles – and not even al dente ones!

Still, I was proud of myself for persevering even if I had to admit a twinge of disappointment that I would have to build up my body again – oh how quickly we seem to fall back into old habits and disrepair! So, I ate a healthy breakfast, which is the other side effect of working out for me – after all that hard work, I don’t want to blow the good results by overindulging on the wrong foods. I drank lots of water. And soon I found myself feeling good. A little while later, I felt really good! More energetic than before, and more ready to take on the tasks of the day. So I began to clean the kitchen, and I turned on my stereo to listen to the CD that my niece Jessica had made for me while I did my chores. Soon I was praising the Lord while I loaded the dishwasher. Then I worshipped Him while I cleaned the sink and wiped down the countertops. And the music played on. And the worship and praise became more heartfelt as I thanked God for all He has done for me, for all the ways He has been with me and has revealed His presence on this journey.

Then I could hold it in no more – I threw my damp sponge into my freshly-scrubbed sink, raised my hands and began dancing around my kitchen. Around the island, over to the stove, roundabout the kitchen table and back around the island and back to the sink. And again. And again. It was a time to dance! This was not a time to mourn, it was a time to rejoice, a time for thanksgiving, and a time to dance wildly before my King. At that moment, I knew that I understood David’s joy upon seeing the Ark of the Covenant come home. The scripture says, “And David danced before the LORD with all his might…” (2 Sam. 6:14).

God has brought joy to my heart where there could be mourning, has brought healing to my body where there could be pain, and has brought love and hope to my heart where there could be fear. It is not a time for mourning. It is not a time for pain. It is not a time for fear. It is a time for dance!!!!! And I am so grateful that He has returned to me the strength that I need to dance before Him!