[It began with words on a page. Messy script in black ink, hastily penned. It was a perfect flow of thought to paper. In perfect fluidity, words appeared. And, the world took on new color as my heart swelled.]
I am the Lord’s vessel, His servant. When He moves, I move. Just like two dancers moving in perfect harmony. Every shift of His weight, every change in His frame, every glance of His eye is for me to match.
The desire of my heart to is to be so in harmony with Him that I do not think about staying in frame with Him, following His lead. I want to effortlessly glide in unison with Him.
I want to dance through this life, enjoying every rise and fall of the music, for I am in His arms.
I know I often attempt to back-lead—thinking I know what He is doing and where He is going. I try to force harmony. Yet, all that happens is me stepping out of rhythm, me stopping the beautiful motion of the dance in my futile attempt to keep it going. I overthink the movements, my frame, my Partner’s leading. I am in my head, mentally and physically working to create what I believe is a perfect dance.
But, the dance is stilted. It is forced.
There are no timeless moments of breathlessness where the dance becomes all that exists. For that is how it should be—so caught up in my Partner that all else fades away.
———-
I want to follow Him all around this dance floor of life, trusting His every move. He takes me through the maddening crowds, protecting me from collisions and crashes. And, then, we reach a wide-open space on the floor. I know it is time to display grandeur. It is time for an intricate step—the promenade to underarm turn to…
…release.
“What? This was unexpected. How am I to follow?”
I stand there, attempting to move, to appear graceful and put together, to be in control of the dance. But, my heart is pounding. I have lost my balance and I am uncertain of what to do. My eyes have lost Him.
I find Him again, but as my eyes watch His movements, I am overwhelmed. “I cannot follow that. What am I supposed to do? What are my steps? How do my arms move?” A myriad of thoughts invade my mind and I stand there, feeling lost and alone.
In that moment, in the midst of my floundering, I hear Him say, “Look into my eyes. Watch me.”
Skeptical, but willing to do anything to have this moment end, I look Him in the eyes. I breathe, for the first time in seconds (but, what feels like eternity). He says, “Match me.” And, as I continue to gaze into His eyes, my body begins to naturally move in perfect synchronization with His:
Right side step, ball change. Left side step, ball change. Arm side, up and over. Again.
I relax into the music. The feel of the dance returns. I remember my frame—abdominal muscles in, every muscle engaged, back straight, chin up, shoulders locked, feet through the floor, not on the floor, etc, etc. All the instruction from previous lessons from Him returns. My balance is restored. My confidence in the dance grows. Then, before I can react, He has picked me back up into His arms in closed frame, and we sweep around the corner, navigating the floor effortlessly.
I am ashamed at how quickly I forgot all He has taught me.
I am embarrassed, but His arms show compassion and I know there is no room for shame.
Shame would just keep me in my head, disrupting the dance even more.
Shame would cause me to shrink back, to half-dance. And there is no splendor in that.
Shame must be released, for my Partner offers total forgiveness for every misstep. This is no perfectly rehearsed, choreographed routine. This is true lead and follow. This is two beings. This is music on shuffle. This is the elaborate dance floor of life.
This is our God as leader and we as followers.
This is His commands, His teachings, His Word as the frame. No need to memorize a syllabus of steps, for that would create an attempt to work out a performance—and our faith is not a performance. We cannot fake our way through a routine, for as soon as we start, our Partner is no longer with us. We have created a solo. And, solos on this dance floor of life end in sorrow.
This dance floor was not made for solos. This dance floor was made for splendid, sweeping movements, extravagant lifts, and grand twirls. This dance floor was made for us to dance with Him.
And this, dear friends, is the Great Dance.
This is beauty unveiled.
