Mackenzie Standing

I've taken up swing dancing since coming to Montana. Dancing does not come easily to me. I'm not, as my brother Jarred would put it, "loosey goosey." I really like it, but my lack of skill tends to make me self-conscious. The first night I showed up and nervously explained to each of my partners that I'd never done it before. Luckily for me, most of them took pity on me and kept things relatively simple. Well, most of them. As one guy (who was quite a good dancer) pulled me out onto the floor, I tried to explain my lack of skill. "That's okay," he said. "Just hold onto my hands and go where I move you." So I did. I stopped trying to figure out what I was doing. I stopped worrying about whether I was doing anything right. I just held onto his hands and let him lead. And as we spun around the room, I must admit: I couldn't stop smiling. I've often heard that faith is like a dance with God-we may mess up, step on His feet, or try

There are holes in my heart that I just can't fill. So often lately I find my soul aching because of things I don't understand. So often I find myself struggling with things I really wish I could ignore. I'm sad a lot lately. I grieve a lot lately. It's hard to do that here; it's hard to try and explain where my heart's at, where my faith's at, where my life's at in a five minute conversation with people I've known for two months. It's not for lack of trying on either part, more that I just don't know the answers to all those questions myself. Some days I understand more than others. Today is easy. Today I'm sad. Today is Troy's birthday and he's not here to celebrate it. Today I find myself thinking of the most insignificant details. How he always wore this really ugly, mustard brown knit beanie. How he once took me out to ice cream three separate times because he promised to take me as a reward and kept "forgetting&qu