Slow dance.

I am overwhelmed. So many voices scream and yell and cry, that the one faithful, supportive cheer falls upon deaf ears. Everywhere I turn is another megaphone, another foghorn, another speaker blasting nothing but noise into my ears. Noise. All of it. Useless jibber-jabber; idle, incomprehensible chatter that does nothing but fill my ears and cement out the good, fruitful encouragement and assurance.

So many up-beat, easily choreographed songs play with mesmerizing rhythms and enticingly catchy lyrics, but all I really want is a slow dance. I just want to be held, cradled, enveloped as a beloved. I want to trust my partner enough to follow His lead without even focusing on it. I just want to follow the rhythm that I sense in His pulse and in His step. I want to be held so close that all I can hear is His gentle whisper; that still, small voice. I just want to slow dance.