At one time for years I thought I had this perfect swagger to the dance I shared with the bottle. I was sure I could model this ballad after Travolta. I am sure now it would have repulsed ya
At one time I thought I was elegant with each step in sync. Little did I know my feet were toppling over one another in a my inebriated stagger. The ballad I waltzed to was in my head. The record needle scratching, and screeching to the beat of my feet. My audience begging me to stop, might as well have been dead. I had a zombie state of mind. Thinking I was oh so fine
As I now fast forward to my dance today some years later, my feet do indeed move more swiftly in-sync. Today when I wake I start my day off with prayer, and from there I am not in a need of my same dance partner I had in the booze. The ballad has changed its tune in my heart. It’s pure art, made from musical notes of peace and serenity. Something that with each chord rings a melody of redemptions freedom played upon my deepest vein
As I place my feet upon the floor they are in one accord with the notes orchestrated by Jesus’s hand, not my own nor made by man. My feet glide, and they are free of my toes entanglements. My ears hear the melody of the new ballad written for me. I dance oh so beautifully, because I am free of the bottle that once enveloped my whole being. It’s my butterfly waltz
My once very broken wings were given flight of dance. So colorful, and youthful this new ballad made for me by Him…Because I was made for Him by Him. The ballad my feet dance too are a hymnal to my heart, pure art by my makers hand..Jesus takes my hand, asks me for this dance, as we cut a rug oh so snug in His will
https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2022/08/25/
Weirds Are Word 