glass ballerina

Last weekend GCC women attended a retreat. The women’s retreat is designed with the intention of guiding women into deeper relationship with God. Mark Waltz taught us a method that engages the creativity of the human mind. We meditated on Matt. 11:29 and lost ourselves in a melody sung by a man and his piano. Mark guided us as we drew upon our imaginations to create space for a meeting with Jesus…

I searched my mind for a place of comfort and safety, a place fitting for a rendezvous with Jesus. Woods near the home where I grew up flash in my mind, and disappear. The tree that grew in our back yard springs to my memory. I passed many hours nestled among the branches of that tree as a child, enclosed in shade and secrecy. But that place isn’t right either. My imagination drifts to the shores of Lake Michigan. The beach has always been a place of solace for me. As a girl when I was haunted by nightmares and jolted awake with fear, I lulled myself to sleep again with memories of the beach.

I am standing near the water’s edge, my feet bathed in the warmth of sand. I wiggle my toes and feel the grains slip through. The wind is blowing the hair from my face, and the rhythmic crashing of waves fills my ears.

I am alone.
And then I’m not.
Jesus is standing before me.

I look at his hands. Within them he holds a gift, so I open my hands to receive it. And as my hands unfold the gift is revealed.

She is so small and delicate, no bigger than my thumb. She is graceful, elegantly poised on tip toe, perfectly balanced on one tiny slipper. She is formed of transparent glass, and I can see the sand and water through her.

She is a tiny, glass ballerina.

My glass ballerina represents my dream, a dream so fragile and wonderful I fear I’ll destroy it. Why would God give me such a gift? Doesn’t he realize the risk he is taking?
In my hands she could break, her beauty reduced to shards of glass. And yet… if he thinks I am capable of carrying the dream, if he thinks my glass ballerina can dance… maybe I should too.

So I’ll hold onto my glass ballerina, and hope she doesn’t break.

Hos. 2:15 There I will give her back her vineyards, and will make the Valley of Achor a door of hope. There she will sing as in the days of her youth, as in the day she came up out of Egypt.