|Courtesy of Whimsical Winds|
I grew up in denomination that forbid dancing. None of any kind was allowed. Even jiggling to a song in church could get you thumped after services.
Mom had wind chimes too, and enjoyed hearing the bells and clinks of tubes, spoons and keys as they knocked against each other in the breeze. Neither of us could pass by one without sweeping our hand beneath the chimes to make them sound off.
It was in the last few years of moms life that I stood at the sink when a set of chimes started. I stopped in the middle of scrubbing a pot to turn and inform mom "Listen, daddy's dancing in heaven."
"We don't dance. It's against our religion." she lowered her glasses.
"Ahh but," I told her, "People dance in heaven from the sheer joy. No other way to express it but to bounce around and throw your arms up in the air and shout."
She smiled and answered, "I guess we'll see someday, but you know I can't dance."
I'm confident there IS dancing in heaven, just as there was in the Old Testament. After mom moved to heaven in Dec. 2010, I bought and hung another set of wind chimes. I gave the same set to each of my sisters and told them, "When you hear the chimes, know that mom and dad are dancing together in heaven." Not sure the chimes meant as much to them as they did to me.