Part of my heart.

Sometimes I get dance sick. Like the feeling of home sickness but like a knot in my stomach that then spreads to a full body ache. I feel the wave of nausea flood over me ever few months or so, it usually happens after watching dance television show, talking with or thinking about someone on Pacific Ballroom Dance, watching dancing kids on youtube (one of Belize's favorite things to do) or just watching the pure joy on Belize's face as she dances around our living room. I won't lie, I cry when I watch people dance, there are not a lot of things more beautiful and when I think about dancing, I mean, me- dancing, I feel sick to my stomach. I've come to accept that dancing is part of how I feel happiness, the height of my outward expression- I miss it. But do you know what? Every time I take a moment to enjoy my children, watch their beautiful faces, feel their soft skin, kiss their little cheeks. I am blown away by how much Heavenly Father loves me and how much I love them and how I wouldn't trade them for anything- even a perfectly executed samba roll (and let me tell ya, those are pretty delicious like creamy cheesecake).

My Grandma Gregg gave me a wood sign to hang on my wall, it reads, "Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass . . . . it's learning to dance in the rain." So I guess I'm learning a new dance, the dance of life- full of twists and turns, solos, duets and group numbers, balance, beauty, and grace.