I’ve considered selling my soul to the devil for it once or twice…
Yet its very essence completely contradicts him, making the transaction a ridiculous suggestion and utter impossibility. Though once you’ve tasted it, in its absence it becomes entirely irresistible. But no matter what you’re willing to offer, it’s one of the few, treasured possessions that Satan himself cannot grant you.
Because true Freedom doesn’t come by dancing with the devil, it comes by dancing with Jesus. 
And though it has many different designations, this particular kind – the manner of freedom by which I speak of – carries a quality unrivaled by all other kinds of freedom known to man. This divinely gifted freedom is the only one that grants total emancipation. In every way possible… unbound, unhindered and uncaged. Yet not fully defined by the mere absence of shackles. Rather, with veils lifted, it’s a freedom that grants you the ability to see Truth — through the eyes of our Heavenly Papa. A freedom that beckons presence — awarding an endless well of hope for the future yet entertaining no sense of worldly longing. A freedom that empowers you to serve with the mighty hands and infinite love of our Almighty God.
A freedom that cares nothing of the world’s standards — independent of the approval and judgments of others. A freedom that bears such buoyancy, it’s like Jesus Himself is leading you in the most marvelous dance of your life. Serenely careening across the shimmering floor of the universe within His gentle, doting embrace. Yeah… it’s just like that.
But somehow over the last few months… I had lost it. I had lost my freedom. I had lost my dance.
And right as I was beginning to feel defeated – to believe I may never feel it again… by the tender mercies of my amazing, Heavenly Papa, I received it once more – in the most unlikely place with the most unlikely company in the most unlikely way.
On that particular day as the music flowed through the loud speakers at Sarah’s Covenant House (the special needs orphanage we served at last month), knowing not what to do, I gave in to the idea of slow dancing with a few of the orphans. And as I somewhat reluctantly held their small, drool-laden hands, a familiar sentiment of serenity washed over my entire body as we spun round and round with eyes closed.
Amidst all the chaos – the biting, the drooling, the pee and poop mishaps, the challenging circumstances and heartbreaking realities – He granted me the peace and freedom I had been striving desperately to find. In the quiet place of non-striving. Freedom. True freedom.
Freedom in a simple, unplanned moment. A moment when I stopped longing for the future. A moment when I decided to be fully present with the children, loving on them as I’m called to love. A moment when I forgot about everything else and just said, “yes” to Jesus’ affectionate appeal to romance me.
On that particular day, He gracefully swept me into freedom by the tiny hands of special needs orphans. Orphans as pure and precious and loving as Jesus. On that day, in Ongole, India… I slow danced with Jesus. And here in the midst of some of the most challenging moments of my life, I dance freely. I walk freely. I live freely. I love freely. Without striving. Just by accepting His gracious offer to dance and romance me for all of eternity.
There is freedom in Jesus' love. There is freedom in the dance. And such a freedom is priceless… yet free. Free to all who desire it. To all who decide to step out, take His hand and say, “Yes” to His gentlemanly, tender request — “May I have this dance?”
Praise you, my precious Jesus, my Beloved! Praise you for the best dance of my life! May we continue to dance forever more. My Beloved, you and I dancing in freedom… forever more.
“Romance me O Lover of my soul… to the song of all songs. Dance with me O lover of my soul… to the song of all songs…”
