Dancing
If you are black and more or less of Baby Boomer age, you probably grew up loving the Temptations and the Supremes. If you are white, you were probably a Beatles fan. I was and still am. A couple days ago I had a chance to see one of the many Beatles tribute bands play a concert in a park setting. It is amazing to me how music has the power to evoke feelings and memories of long gone years. Little bits of my adolescence came rushing back to me as I heard “Can’t Buy Me Love,” “Back in the U.S.S.R.,” and “I Am the Walrus.” People couldn’t sit still. Soon the grassy area in front of the stage was full of people dancing to songs they knew well. One arthritic gray-haired woman stepped back and forth gingerly, eyes closed, hips now stiff, singing along. A woman in a wheel chair bobbed her head to the beat. A developmentally disabled man with a huge grin shyly staggered up to the group and soon was bobbing and lurching and swaying in his own way. It struck me that in their imaginations those three people had no disabilities. They were free, graceful, soaring. They were dancing. In my top three reasons for being eager for heaven you can list joy at what Jesus Christ is going to do for people with disabilities. What ecstasy for them to be set free from all the physical limitations that gave them pain and trouble here on earth. Isaiah 35 says that in heaven the lame will leap like a deer; that as the ransomed of the Lord enter heavenly Zion they will be singing. I bet they’ll be dancing, too.

### Straight talk.  Real  hope.

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