In dreams, one night, I traversed a cosmic ballroom—unmatched in opulence and charm. Every passage, arbor, and column contrived to hold my gaze as I stood perplexed before divinity. Every god and goddess known appeared to grace the dance floor. From Aphrodite to Vishnu, the tapestry of holiness unwound before my eyes. A gala of the gods, I thought. A bal masque of supernatural glory—how is it that I should be here?
Bemused and somewhat frightened, I hastened through the hall—my dizzied head unwittingly keeping time to ethereal twirls. But amid the commotion, my gaze abruptly set upon a captivating figure standing alone in the recess. The spinning stopped. The room stood still. And then there was nothing. Nothing save his piercing eyes on mine. Nothing save to come to him.
Slowly and deftly, his eyes led my feet toward him, ’til finally I stood in his reach—knowing not why. Was it the intensity in his stare? The kindness in his smile that had drawn me near him? Maybe, I thought. But as I paused to look back upon the heavenly scene unfolding, I couldn’t help but wonder something else. Maybe it’s because of all of them, he is the one who most resembles myself.
Suddenly, his hand beneath my chin swept me away from my thoughts—and my eyes returned again to him. “Dance with Me,” he said.
Oh, what else could I do? What else could I do but yield forever to his requests?
I gave him my hand and surrendered to his warm embrace, returning his smile as we joined the throng of celestial dancers. Clumsy and stiff though I am, not once did he allow my feet to flounder—not once did he let me fall. On the contrary, in his arms, I was the image of poise and serenity. A miracle, I whispered aloud.
Then, something recalled me, again, to his eyes—his eyes which pervaded my soul. I searched deeper within their intensity—and found there ultimate suffering. Our dancing ceased as I looked once more at our entwined hands. There were scars at his wrists. I could scarcely believe it. A god with scars? I looked away and tried to mask my shock. But the scars didn’t end at his wrists. No matter where on his body I set my eyes, they seemed to be everywhere. Forgetting myself, I reached up and traced a line across his head.
At once, he caught my hand and lowered it slowly toward his heart. He gently placed it there to let me feel its beating… The resonance overwhelmed me, and then, at last, I knew. He’s human, I whispered in my mind. My God has a heartbeat.
I struggled in vain to give voice to my feelings. In vain because He knew them already.
“It stopped once for you,” He tenderly whispered—as though He were breathing His very Life into me. “That’s why you’re here with Me now.”
I could bear it no longer. My whole body trembled as my tears spilled forth. I could feel everything He’d felt. I looked up and saw that His eyes were wet, too. Then, falling to the floor, I asked Him, “Oh, God, what do You wish? Please, tell me what You want. I’ll do anything.”
“I love you,” He said as He reached for my hands. “Will you dance with Me?”