While I was at church this morning, I realized that I am unable to sit still, or even stand still, when there is music playing. I have to move: sway to the beat, move my feet, clap my hands, tap my toes…something, anything, as long as I’m moving. When I’m driving down the road I have the same problem – if the radio is on in my car, I’m tapping my fingers against the steering wheel or bobbing my head to the beat. I even remember way back in the day when I pretended to play the piano on the back of the pew in front of me in the church in which I grew up – I have this incessant need to move to music.
Lately I’ve been drawn to dance, a form of organized movement that always revolves around music. I’ve watched movies about dancing (“Take the Lead,” “Step Up,” and “Save the Last Dance” are some of my favorites, and “Pride and Prejudice” has some amazing dancing scenes as well). I’ve been to wedding receptions that have a lot of dancing. I grew up doing gymnastics, and then later figure skating, so I’m not a stranger to movement; however, dancing has never been my forte. I’ve never had anyone to dance with, never had a boyfriend to lead me out on to the floor at high school or college dances, never had a close enough guy friend to take me out dancing, never gotten in to the club scene where I could go dance with random people. I guess you could say I’m a “closet dancer” – I experiment with movement in my apartment or in places where nobody will see me because I think I look funny or that my movements are awkward.
Dancing inspires me, though…even if I’m not good at it or haven’t done it much. To see a woman follow her partner out on to the floor, trusting him to lead her around without causing her to crash in to anyone or fall; to see couples spin around, totally oblivious to anyone else; to see groups of people moving together in these crazy, well-choreographed, intricate movements – that inspires me, it moves me and makes me want to move.
My relationship with Jesus is a dance of sorts. He takes my hand, leads me out in to the unknown, shows me all the steps at the exact right time, catches me when I fall, twirls me around and lifts me up in the air when He’s excited about something. There are times we’re dancing quickly and are moving a lot, where I’m full of excitement and energy. There are also slow dances where we simply sway together, where I’m caught up in His embrace, leaning my head on His chest as we move together. There are dances I have never seen before, steps so confusing that I fall flat on my face – but He is always there to pick me up, dust me off, and show me again and again until I finally get it. There are dances we’ve done together a million times, dances I could grow tired of but instead take as opportunities to lean in and savor the sweetness of being close to my Jesus. There are times I try to make up my own steps, try to break out and do something on my own, and He simply stands there and waits for me to return to Him, waits for me to realize that His dance is the only one worth dancing.
I want to dance with my Jesus and for Him alone. I want to spin around with Him through fields of wildflowers. I want to sway with Him in the courts of the throne room of heaven. I want my steps to mirror His as I walk through this everyday life. And when I stumble, I want to know that He is beside me to pick me up and to set me right back in to this dance we call life.
