I Hope You Dance

On one of our first walks we discovered the pools at the back of the ship. There were several decks of pools there, joined by steps. I loved the view from the top railing, looking down on the pools and then the ocean.
This area was sheltered and the best part was that it was quiet . . . no live band, just a nice blend of old classics and soft rock/pop/country music played over the PA. I was lying in the sun, on my chair when I Hope You Dance, recorded by country singer Lee Ann Womack, came on . . . the words just so right for the moment . . . and for some reason the sentiment of what they said stayed with me as I surveyed life around me.

I hope you never lose your sense of wonder
You get your fill to eat
But always keep that hunger
May you never take one single breath for granted
God forbid love ever leave you empty handed

I hope you still feel small
When you stand beside the ocean
Whenever one door closes, I hope one more opens
Promise me that you'll give faith a fighting chance
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance

I hope you dance
I hope you dance

I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance
Never settle for the path of least resistance
Living might mean taking chances
But they're worth taking
Lovin' might be a mistake but it's worth making

Don't let some hell bent heart leave you bitter
When you come close to selling out, reconsider
Give the heavens above
More than just a passing glance
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance

I hope you dance
(Time is a wheel in constant motion always)
I hope you dance
(Rolling us along)
I hope you dance
(Tell me who)
I hope you dance
(Wants to look back on their years and wonder
Where those years have gone)
written by Mark Sanders and Tia Sillers

So much of what I saw and experienced on the ship was new and exciting. I was taking pictures of things I probably won’t next time, but traveling with people who have cruised a lot before, gave me a perspective I don’t want to lose in general.

One morning we shared our breakfast table with a woman from Akron, Ohio. She had been in the lineup ahead of us and was not happy that she could not get a window table, so we tried starting some friendly conversation with her even though her discontentment about most things came through loud and clear. When we told her that we were very happy with the food, she slowly and maturely said something like, “Well, ya see honay, ya don’t have notin’ to compare it to … but . . . in actuality … it really ain’t good.”

In retrospect, her words haunted me with a certain sadness, because they are so true to life. We can get so accustomed to good things, we begin to take them for granted. I’m not saying that this lady didn’t give thanks, but I know that we can so easily forget and, when we do, it can be a downward spiral.

A very long time ago, the apostle Paul wrote a letter to the Christians in Rome, explaining why God’s wrath was being revealed against the godlessness and wickedness of men who suppress the truth. He goes on to say, “For although they knew God, they neither glorified Him, nor gave thanks to Him, but their thinking became futile and their foolish hearts were darkened.”
(Romans 1: 21) It basically began with not giving thanks.

Maybe this was my Thanksgiving Lesson . . . on the Sapphire Princess.