A Monday Reflection

Happy Memorial Day! I recently came across this reflection, written by a close friend of mine, and it touched me in an especially deep way...I hope you find the love of Christ here, as I did! Enjoy!

Dancing with Jesus

Standing in an empty ballroom, I can see my reflection in the perfectly shined wood floors as the smell of cedar wafts throughout the room. It’s not expansive, yet it seems to hold the whole world within it. A chandelier hangs from the ceiling, emanating a pure white light that dances across the walls. I blink a few times in disbelief as the rays take on color and form.

A beautiful woman materializes before me, wearing a simple, ivory gown. It reaches just above her bare feet, trimmed with the finest of pearls. Her sea blue eyes meet mine cheerily as I notice her regal crown. Vines rimming her head and yet still growing into a canvas of wildflowers, bouquets of every color creating a veil that trails ever behind her. She bows her head to me in acknowledgement, brushing some of her jet-black hair behind her ear, and moves towards the windowsill as if awaiting another arrival.

Still in awe of this Lady, berating myself for not having shown more respect to someone so much better than I, I am startled by another figure as He comes from the light.

Overtaken by awe, I fall to the ground as He approaches me. My knees are tucked into my chest as I lie before Him. Such terror, such sadness arise within me. I feel as if I might turn to dust then and there. A sob threatens to wrack my lungs when His soft caress puts me in a stupor.

His fingertips lift my chin, forcing my eyes to meet His impenetrable ones. Dark, brown hair frames his face. It’s clean but littered with sawdust. I can see the beginnings of a beard growing on His face, His lips carved in a smile ever so slightly.

“Are you ready, My Child?” He asks me.

His low, smooth-sounding voice resounds like rolling thunder, yet it also reminds me of a cool breeze across a stream in the deserted woods.

I hesitate. Is He talking to me? But there’s no one else for Him to have meant. I look back to the wonderful Lady, and she smiles at me encouragingly.

Slowly but surely, I reply, “Yes, my Jesus… but not on my own.”

He smiles, this time a full smile, opened wide and ending with a chuckle as the rays from the chandelier transform into all the saints and angels of Heaven. I can hear them whispering words of faith, hope, and love, urging me on and stunning me with their kindness. One last glance at the Virgin as I see her mouth, “Fiat,” and I know what must be done.

Returning to Christ’s gaze, His eyes implore me once more. And some part of me, in the deepest depths of my soul, in the sin I’ve always managed to turn back to, and the doubt and fear which the devil has tormented me with, cries out. It tempts me to remain in what I know, in the certainty of earthly things, things tangible and so much more easily obtained than that of Heaven.

The room goes dark, and I am alone. Utterly alone. Helpless. Weak. A sinner unworthy of saving. A failure impossible for success. I see myself for what I am and suddenly realize that what I am, He is not. The path which I would take is the road which Christ would forsake. To come to what I do not know, to a God who is entirely beyond, I must go where I know nothing.

And at this revelation, some light is restored to the room, just enough for me to see my Savior once again. He stretches one had out towards me, a hand pierced my continual wrongdoings. I anxiously look up, only mustering the courage to behold His crown, thorns penetrating the flesh that gives me new life, which I so often reject. And there are these flowers interwoven into the diadem, flowers like His Mother’s, that glorify His pain. Finally, I see the rip in His toga, where the soldiers threw a lance in His side, and it shocks me. Still, blood and water gush forth, a fount of mercy and love, freely forgiving the world for their sins. A world that includes me. Little old me.

And in that moment, I respond to Christ, “There’s one more thing, so that my sins might be forgiven…” and I begin to pour out every misdeed I have ever done. But it’s more like He draws them out of me. Because the more I see Him for who He is, the more I love Him. And the more I love Him, the more sorrow I feel for my sins, the more I want to renounce myself, the more I want only Him. Christ alone. I am seized by love and unable to let go.

Finally, I say, “My Jesus, now, I am ready,” and He takes my hand, leading me onto the dance floor.