It's Like When the Angels Danced

Quite a short writing piece, this one. It came out of a time of worship in small group once. I could literally see the whole thing playing our in my head.
BUT it's one of those pieces that doesn't FEEL finished! I can't work out what else it needs, but even over 3 years later than the last time I posted it, it doesn't feel finished.


It's like when the angels danced. There is a tambourine playing and they have beads hanging around their necks. The beads represent the tears of God, tears on our behalf. Silver beads, purple beads, all colour beads, beads changing colour. I can't describe what they look like in words.

It's like there's mists moving around inside each bead, but the mists are coloured. The mists begin to clear in each bead in turn and there's a scene inside each one. In each scene there is a heart broken person and in each God moves in and picks them up in his arms.

There's a single mom at the end of her tether. God cries on her behalf, cries with her, then picks her up, holds her like a baby and lets her cry herself to sleep in his arms.

There's a frightened, beaten child, hiding at the bottom of the garden. Not hidden from God though, He walks slowly, carefully, purposefully, takes the child by the hand, puts his wide, strong, safe arms around her and hugs her so carefully.

There's an old woman at the end of her life, worrying about her husband who will be left behind, she lies in her bed and cries hot, deep tears. God moves into the scene, takes her husband by the hand, leads him to her where they cry and talk together with God and sort through their pain and fear and love, so that they are both ready for her to go.