Life's a dance floor, a ballroom.
Made up of tears, and happiness.
I joined a particular dance,
At a younger age,
My Father took me in his arms,
And started to dance with me.
We twirled and sidestepped,
We swayed and been all over,
This ballroom of Life.

He doesn't mind, If I forget the steps,
Step on His toes, or make a mess.
He doesn't mind, if I tire,
Stumbling around, with no elegance of sort.
He doesn't mind, If I draw farther away from him,
In my lack of courage, and sometimes belief.
Because He'll just whisper,
"Come closer, Daughter, I'll re-teach you the steps"
And does so, again and again.
All over this Ballroom of Life

I listen to the words,
He whispers in my ear.
But sometimes the music is loud,
The distractions around me,
Cause me to stumble,
Cause me to falter.
Sometimes, they drown out,
What He's trying to tell me,
To "Step this way a little"
To avoid an emotional collision.
And it's those times, I find myself,
In a problem that could have been avoided,
If I had payed attention.
Sheepishly, I stand, looking at the mess I created.
But my Father just smiles softly,
And takes my hand, and shows me how.
To make the best of it. Turn it into something good.
And afterwards, there seems to be, much more a crowd,
On this specific floor,
On this Ballroom floor of Life.

And if I completely tire, of His presence
He'll let, a few step in, at time.
Blessings, Brothers, Teachers,
Even a playful dance with a sister or two.
All who have guided, me again and again,
Back to the arms of my Daddy,
And we'll restart our dance together,
But sometimes, I pull away on my own.
And in those times, I find myself with,
People who are dancing dangerously,
Trying moves, that I know, my Father would,
Disapprove of and shed tears at.
But there's a thrill to this place, a hidden desire,
And soon I find myself, dancing those moves
All Over this Ballroom of Life

I'm crashing and burning,
My feet are painful, full of blisters and sores,
I'm weak and barely able to move,
Clumsiness is making me make so many messes.
But I'm determined to do it on my own.
So I tell my Father, "Stay back! I can fix this!"
So being the gentleman He is,
He steps back, and watches sadly.
As I create mayhem and chaos,
Quickly forgetting my Father
On my Ballroom of life

There's a girl, I seemed drawn to,
Though I can't imagine why.
Shyly, because since I left my Father.
I've been hurt so many times.
This girl she looks just as broken somehow,
As I, so I draw up to her and we giggle and laugh a bit.
Playing around with these silly dances.
Becoming fast friends, before finding something important.
We have the same Father. And we've both drifted away.
Away from our Daddy, away from our Creator.
So now sister's linked by our souls,
We're getting back there.
Onto that floor, I know He'd be on.
Waiting for us, to come, dance with Him again.
In this ballroom of Life

Suddenly, a hand takes ahold of mine,
A sudden introduction by my sister.
This person I don't know, but his smile lights up the room.
There's a small danger to his step, but mine is just as apparent.
He is taller; I have to look up to him, A bit on the larger side too,
But it doesn't stop him from moving us both away
Quicker from that danger, I found myself in.
I can see he is new, to the dance,
I remember going through, with my Father,
Seemingly so long ago.
But…The moves that he makes, and the help that he offers,
Reminds me of someone, I thought long forgotten.
I ponder this thought, as I swirl around with this man,
Who became closer then friend,
A brother in Christ. A helping hand.
I find out, he was sent by someone,
That person forgotten.
On this Ballroom floor of life.

I remember this floor!
My eyes are in wonder,
Still in the arms, of my sister and brother,
Who've held me up, for quite awhile now.
Since I've no longer found the strength to move on.
In my vast fascination, of remembering the steps,
Of reading the word of the Creator,
I stumbled once again.
But this time, instead of my soul family's help,
There was another hand to catch me this time.
One, with wounds in His palms,
One that is callused, but still soft,
Gentle as He helps me up.
I recognize this face, and quickly try to duck and look away.
Away from this friend, this Father, whom I know I hurt.
But He once again smiles, that smile I know.
Lifts my chin, and whispers softly.
"Child, I've already forgiven you. Look to Me again"
So shyly, slowly, I take His hand, and He slowly moves me back to the floor.
Carefully supporting me, until my feet have healed.
Letting me lean on Him, as much as I need to.
Until the hour comes, I can finally stand up tall.
On this ballroom of life.

I'm standing strong, I'm dancing swiftly
But this time, I'm not moving away,
I'm happy where I am.
When I am feeling strong, my Daddy lets me go.
But this time, it's to let me support other's,
Show them the way to our Father's arms,
Or to help them up, when they were weak.
Sometimes it's hard to watch them, in pain.
To the point I have to leave them, for a moment,
To cry and ask for help from my Father.
Who always has a plan, and always gives advice.
Before showing me back, to help those dance
On this ballroom floor of Life.

I keep peaking over His shoulder lately.
In one of our dances together.
Somewhat of a distraction.
It's making me dance just a little bit faster,
Just a little more joyous,
Just a little more happier.
He's chuckling at my attitude, and at my questions.
"Is...Is he the one? Is he the one?"
I ask my Daddy, over and over again.
About the man behind us,
I have grown to love, With much of my heart.
There is a soft look to his face,
And He kisses my brow.
"Patience Daughter, I love you too much, to not let go,
Until the time is right. It isn't right now, but it will be soon. Patience, child, trust Me."
So on we dance, and even though, I've let a person in my life.
Until my Father says it's right,
I'll be dancing on this floor with my heavenly Father,
This ballroom floor of life