Prom?

Spelled in fluorescent green in the yard one night, our daughter was asked to the prom.

Per his request, we parents accompliced the surprise:  solidify a time when she is home, he is available;  keep her downstairs  watching “24” during glow stick arranging and doorbell ringing; call her up, while enveloping her pj cami with a zip-up the front sweatshirt…

Then we retreated, let the two mingle and marvel at the glow in the dark.  Chuckles and chatter floated through the front door.  We heard but did not hear, felt but did not know.  Finally, I grabbed the camera, scooted out and took a snapshot (isn’t he clever? :).  For a moment I interrupted their privacy, but it was for posterity.  I saw no other way to grab this moment–I knew there’d be regret if “PROM?” became a memory without a memento.

Back inside, Rich and I smiled and wondered.  Would she say “yes”?  Would they share an evening of elegant splendor together?  They took their time talking and sharing.  For hours we never knew.

I wonder, does God ever go to such lengths for us?  Does He ever set people in motion to help ready us for His glowing invitation?  As we stare numbly at the “fascinating” lives of others, does He ring us up and call us out into night where His illumined invitation is readily discerned?  Does He ever say “Come. Let me whisk you away, let me dine you, let me swirl you.”  Would we believe Him if He did?  Would we have the guts to say “yes”?  Would we trust Him to escort us into a fairytale evening resplendent with glitter and gold?

Trust, for me, is difficult…I’d be suspicious.  I think I’d wonder what He’d want in return or what disaster was plotted for my “good” as I entered His limo.  Sweet moments visit, yet they never linger.  A full evening of Jesus and I out on the town dining and dancing without disaster descending seems remote.  Nothing is pure, nothing untainted.

I look at the alternative: deny the invite, say “thanks, but no thanks”.  It leaves me alone, without a killer date with the Man to end all men.  I stay at home, staring numbly into the “fascinating” lives of others.  Safe in my self-erected bubble I never know what it is like to dine and dance with the Lover of my soul.  Risk stares and flashes me into fear…I stay where pain can’t find me.  Buried alive, years pass by and, even though the doorbell keeps ringing, I stay tucked in the underbelly of my life fearing what may happen if I say “yes”.

“Yes” is an ongoing assent to whatever comes in the arms of my Lord.  Decked to the nines and eating escargot, the roof may fall in or the floor give way.  It is true, there is no guarantee.  All that is assured is that He will stay with me.  He will hold me and lift me from the rubble, doubled in pain or completely unscathed.  Solace may never visit, hope remain unseen, yet He promises to be present if I stay and not run.  He’s a man of His word, He cannot be unfaithful.  Risk stares, but I do not notice, for the Eyes of my Love enthrall and fill.  I stay and see and hope that maybe someday there will be another moment where we swirl in step beneath the mirrored ball, lost in each other.

Emily nodded that night.  She and her friend are going to the prom.  The “yes” is taking form in the purchase of a gown, shoes, hairdo…all prom ladies know it, all who say “yes” to the invite know.  Much to prepare for, much to anticipate.  “Yes” has a price and there is no guarantee, but one never knows unless one smiles and says “Yes, I’d love to go to the prom with you.”

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