The chaos of life drowned out the music of freedom, replacing it with a beat–a beat of rules and expectations–that I marched to. The cacophony of numerous voices persuaded me to believe that I had to do this to be loved, had to do that to be accepted, had to such-and-such in order to be good enough.
But one day I heard the notes–the wondrous, sweet notes–of His voice. He was calling me to something different; He was inviting me to dance with Him.
“But, God,” I replied, bowing my head in shame, “I don’t know how to dance. I don’t know how to move to Your music.”
He smiled tenderly. “You’ll learn.”
So I stepped out of the line of marching people and took His offered hand. The music drifted around us as we started to dance.
Others noticed what was happening and tried to get me to return. “That’s not the way to go, girl!” “Are you crazy?” “No, no, you must follow the rules!” And they kept moving to the monotonous rhythm; they could not (or would not) hear the symphony swelling in my chest.
I’ve stumbled a few times (okay, more than a few), and fell down more than once. I’ve sometimes yearned to go back to the comfortable, predictable march. Sometimes I did go back.
But always I’ve returned to the symphony my Father played; I’ve returned to His embrace, often crying, feeling unworthy. And He’s pulled me close and soothed me, drying my tears and calling me “My beloved,” then He’s said with a smile, “Let’s dance.”
And so we dance. As time passes, I realize more and more that it’s not what I do, but what He’s done, that saves and sanctifies me. That’s what gives me freedom–His grace. His love. His forgiveness. He’s the reason I can dance.
And so I pray that I’ll continue to hear this music of love, this song of my Creator and Father, and I pray I will continue to dance this dance of grace.
I’m reading through a devotional plan called “I Dare You to Dance” by Pete Briscoe. In it, he talks about how we start marching to the rules and regulations instead of simply living in grace and freedom. He says that God hates the marching and desires us to dance–dance with Him, dance in grace and love.
Anyway, I want to do that: to live in grace, to dance to the music of forgiveness, to rely on Him–not myself or my good works or my obedience of all the rules.
So y’all can pray for me in that, and I pray that each of you–all Christians–would learn to dance, not march. 🙂