A Casual Friday

After work, I went upstairs to take a shower. When I came back down, Cata looked at me and asked, “Where are you going?”

I was confused for a second. “Well, earlier we said we were going to the food carts,” I replied. “I’m going out with you.”

She smiled, with that little smirk she does when something amuses her. Working from home, I usually just wear a T-shirt. But since it was cooler today—and maybe because it’s Friday—I’d put on a button-down shirt. That was apparently enough to surprise her.

It’s been a long week. Nonstop. Every hour, every minute, every second. Not just with the girls, but with work and the weight of it all.

I found myself remembering the days we used to get all dressed up to go out dancing. I’d wear my Don Draper tie, shiny shoes, pressed dress pants—dressed like it was the 1940s. I miss those days. But this week, getting back into dancing just a few days ago, reminded me we haven’t lost that rhythm. Not completely.

Earlier this year, when we were in Nashville, a song came on the country radio station—one that Cata had first heard back in Orlando. It helped shake off the stress of the everyday. That same day, a new song popped up right after. It was a 48-count rhythm, and Cata started to dance to it. She didn’t know all the steps at first, so she pulled up a YouTube tutorial and learned them quickly—classic her.

Today, after she wrapped up her workday, I was doing the 5 p.m. reading with the girls. Before we headed out for dinner, she put that same song on again. And just like that, all three of them were dancing. It was one of those beautiful, ordinary moments—no Don Draper tie this time, no fancy date night out. Just music and movement, laughter and presence, right here in our home.

Charlotte especially was in her element. When the song ended, Cata said, “Let’s do karaoke,” and Charlotte lit up. Her joy was infectious. We asked if she even knew what karaoke was, and she just looked at us and smiled. That smile—innocent, full of hope—is something I won’t forget.

“He will yet fill your mouth with laughter and your lips with shouts of joy.”
—Job 8:21 (NIV)

Sometimes it’s the button-down shirt, the unplanned dance, or the sound of your child singing that reminds you—you’re already living something beautiful. The small joys, the silly songs, the togetherness of home—they’re not side notes to life; they are life. God meets us right in the middle of those 5 p.m. dance parties.

Closing Prayer
Lord, thank You for the joy You bring into our homes through the simplest moments. Help us to slow down enough to notice, to laugh, and to join in. May we carry the spirit of celebration with us even in the ordinary. Amen.