The Lord of the Dance

I Hope you DanceKen Gire, in The Divine Embrace, writes about reflecting on where Jesus has taken us on the “dance floor” of our lives. Sometimes the dance goes so fast, the steps so dizzying, that we don’t recognize until much later that there was a pattern to it all.

But there is always a pattern – a reason for each step, a place He is leading.

Why do we so often fail to recognize this? Maybe we, in some ways, fear our own past, the decisions we’ve made – mainly those decision we know led us in the wrong direction. The times we tripped or stumbled on the dance floor – bruised our tailbone and our ego – are not things we want to see on instant replay. We want to forget them. Leave them buried. Move beyond them. Pretend such embarrassing or exposing moments never happened.

But in doing so, we forfeit something.

When I refuse to reflect, I forfeit the memory of the grace He offered at that moment when He held out His hand and lifted me up from where I had fallen. When He sat by my side until I was ready to dance again. When He held me in His arms and wiped away my tears. When He promised, “There is still a symphony. There is still a dance. And I still want to dance with you.”

The moments He takes our trips and stumbles and creates something precious – more so than a perfect dance without a single misstep. He creates grace and beauty. He extends His love.

Such moments we would do well to remember because those are the moments that show us the heart of He who is the Lord of the dance.

Dear Lord,

Thank you for each moment

With you on the dance floor

I love the rush, the exhilaration

The synchronic steps

Especially when they make sense

And I know where I’m going

But it doesn’t usually happen that way

For that is not the way you dance

So I falter. I stumble. I trip.

And I am afraid

That others will see and know I really have no idea what I’m doing.

Where I’m going.

“I’ll sit this one out.”

But you follow me. Sit with me.

Hold my hand and squeeze it when the music quickens, the beat changes.

As if to say, “Come on, this will be fun.”

Thank you for staying with me

For patiently waiting

And not taking my first “no” as my final answer

Thank you that you know me better

My fear. My timidity.

Yet you know I’ll be happiest

On the dance floor with you

Following your lead

Stepping in time to your rhythm

Even when I falter

Even when I stumble

Having your arms around me

So I never completely fall

Help me not fear to look back, even at the most embarrassing parts of the dance

To remember where you’ve led

THAT you’ve always led

And always stayed with me

I accept your hand

And join you in the dance once more


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