If you’re a female, you may remember doing this with your dad as a little girl. If you’re a father, you might have done this with your daughter. (You might have even done this if you’re a mom.) There’s something really wonderful about dancing, whether it’s a friend in a conga line, a date at a wedding, or with your spouse in the kitchen with no music at all.
Coming from what we call a full-Gospel church, I also tend to see dancing in church. It’s one of the things I love about Bethel. If you watch their music videos they have dancers and painters and flag-wavers and all kinds of things. They aren’t just crowd-drawing ploys or a tool of some sensationalist Christian eccentricity. They are expressions of passionate worship to the Father in heaven.
In January, I posted a video of Jesus Culture performing Dance With Me, an intimate worship song of a soul filled with longing for the Lord, for the Lover of our souls. It was a favorite of an old friend of mine, one who now is dancing with Him on golden streets, and it is one of the songs I always return to.
A couple Wednesdays ago at my church during prayer service, I was praying (which seems to be the best thing to do at a prayer service) and I got this image, this idea, of dancing with the Lord, dancing on His feet. The main focus of my life this year has been to get more in touch with God, to walk in His footsteps, hear His voice more clearly, and trust and obey. And I just started praying that we would dance on His feet. It might sound silly to some people, but think about how great it felt to do that as a child.
Your little feet were perched atop dad’s shoes, your hands were gripping his tightly. You were looking up at his confident face and exchanging smiles with your protector. Maybe there was music playing, or maybe he was singing, or maybe there was only a song in your heart to which he kept perfect timing. He was totally in control of where the two of you went, how you both moved, the speed, the spin. But it was so much fun and you felt loved and safe. You trusted him and he honored that trust, and you both were immensely happy about it.
That’s the kind of relationship we should have with our heavenly Father. Hanging on tight, giving over full control to Him, looking ever at His loving face, trusting Him to dance us right into His glory.
The more I learn about the persecuted Church, the more I hear not only their stories but also their attitudes about the lives they lead and about their persecutors, the more it pains me to know how I myself react to things in my life. I complain and I get snappy when I don’t get “enough” sleep. I’m nervous about saying something about Jesus to someone who needs to hear it. “If I choose to say this, what will happen?”
Every day it seems to me more evident that Charles Stanley has had it right all along:
“Obey God and leave all the consequences to Him.”
Dance with your Father today.