A Time to Dance

There is a time for everything,
    and a season for every activity under the heavens:

     a time to be born and a time to die,
    a time to plant and a time to uproot,
     a time to kill and a time to heal,
    a time to tear down and a time to build,
     a time to weep and a time to laugh,
    a time to mourn and a time to dance ... 

-- Ecclesiastes 3:1-4

I am sitting in a second-floor open-air room in the Presbyterian Education Board (PEB) compound in Lahore, Pakistan, listening to the clatter of silverware as people scurry about setting tables in preparation for a 25th-anniversary party this evening. Chicken is roasting on giant grills across the plaza, and two mosques on either side of the compound have started their adhan chants for afternoon prayer. 

Guests are beginning to arrive dressed in their finest: Both men and women wear the traditional shalwar kameez, an embroidered long tunic with loose-fitting pants, and women drape a bejeweled dupatta across their shoulders. The colors are bold and vibrant, and several early-arrivers are taking selfies near the stage.

The Pakistani culture is one that prioritizes celebration: a time to gather together over food and music, and rejoice in God's good blessings. When they celebrate, they roll red carpets across the ground so guests of honor can protect their feet, and they shower the guests with rose petals as an act of appreciation and blessing. They also hang beautiful ribbon garlands around the necks of their honored guests -- garlands that are typically returned by the end of the event to be used again at the next celebration.

Anniversaries, commemorations, graduations, and birthdays all take on a wedding-like importance, and Pakistanis are quick to dance joyfully along the red carpet, setting aside work deadlines and daily concerns for the celebration at hand.

How well do we honor the importance of a "time to laugh" and a "time to dance"? Do we wait for the next wedding invitation to arrive, or do we recognize the accomplishments around us as moments to celebrate? How might our lives be different if we thought of celebration as a spiritual discipline?

I will be flying home on Sunday, November 19, and I look forward to sharing with you the incredible work I have witnessed here in Lahore. Until then, may God bless your days with a spirit of celebration -- looking ahead to the next time when you can pause the rush and simply enjoy what God is doing in your life.

Peace to you,

Jennie