Following the possibility of a dream becoming real, I ventured out of my midwest home in St. Louis to vacation with my cousin.
The mountains had done their job and invaded my heart. The glories of Red Rocks and Garden of the Gods and the heights of Pikes Peak and Trail Ridge Road in Estes Park were etched in my memories.
But I had one last chance at a memory. So I drug my cousin to a country bar so I could dance with “real” cowboys…
Determined not to be a wallflower, I asked many men to dance that night. Young men who could two step, old men who could waltz. I didn’t really care who it was, how old or even if my stats of “yes” and “no” showed a winning streak.
I just wanted to dance.
Besides, none of these people would ever see me again… or so I thought.
It all changed when Mark asked me to dance. With ease we took to the floor, moving, spinning, laughing our way through the dance floor traffic.
The third time around, a thought flitted through my mind… I feel like I have danced with this man for three years.
His lead was seamless. Any miss-step of mine was glossed over with his intuitive recovery of the steps and beat. His hands expressed a firm, knowing, and easy hold. He was only as strong as I was willing to give back. Our strength met one another and throughout our surreal evening we both felt as though we had known each other before.
I have heard the analogy of dancing used to describe a marriage. But I think it must have been taught by those that didn’t really know how to dance. They seemed to focus on the man leading every time they brought it up.
But what the really beautiful dancers know, what professional ballroom dancers know… is that dancing is never about one person leading.
Together they hold a dance frame, strength matching strength. One is not overpowering the other but calling to the other to be their equal. When both are fully present in the frame the slightest change in direction, pressure, or movement can be anticipated.
Dancing is constant conversation without words.
That night I found my life long dance partner. Even in the hardest moments of marriage…if we just dance, we remember how beautiful marriage can be. Strength calling to strength. Intuitive recovery of one another’s miss-steps.
It’s why I love to dance…
When Jesus asked me to dance I fell in love with my Jesus all over again. His movements and frame expressed something far deeper than words would ever be adequate to tell.
If I but hold the frame – he can lead me.
I don’t have to know the music or the steps.
I just have to dance.
Teach me to dance Lord. Bring me alongside of you, correct my frame, increase my endurance and show me how to step with you. Draw me out of my darkness and give me your everlasting light. Teach me to rise to my calling. Help me match your strength and mirror your movement.
Teach me to Dance!
- When Jesus asked me to Dance – part one (woundedhealerwarrior.com)