What do you do on a lonely weekday afternoon? I thought I’d watch some videos online but I don’t know how I ended up dancing alone for a really long time. Actually I know how I did; it’s a long sequence of events that I’d rather not narrate here. The crux of the story is though that I ended up dancing to some Christian songs that were playing on my laptop. I learnt something new today and as always I must share it with everyone: Jesus is a King seated on the throne and like every king, He enjoys dancing.
Also, there is a physical release that you experience when you dance.
It’s not like a subtle freedom that you believe you have received when you pray. It’s not even like a strong breakthrough that you hope to experience when you worship. It’s tangible, it’s instant and real! You feel it immediately and you can’t stop. You will want to dance unceasingly until you can’t anymore and that’s when you feel it. A light feeling like you’re floating, like you are in another realm of reality, a supernatural one. And it’s followed by this strong knowing that you have entered the courts of the King.
I haven’t done anything like this before. Never when I’m by myself, so let alone in front of other people. There’s a weird self consciousness that we all knowingly or unknowingly carry to church or corporate worship meetings. It’s this knowing that we are being watched by some people who may not be worshipping. This feeling that what might be expressive to you in worship can be oppressive to your neighbour sitting next to you. Literally. Stretch your hands too much and your hitting someone for sure. It’s difficult to let go of the mental control over your body and express yourself freely to Him, although He would love to have you care less about how your face looks when you cry or when you sing in church.
But that’s that beauty of personal worship. When you are alone with Jesus, it’s just you and Him and you can do what you want. I’ve always loved to lie down and talk loudly when I’m worshipping alone but today was the first time I danced like crazy. It was liberating, helped me break free from the stiffness that had got into me over time and helped me feel light weighted.
More than anything, I felt appreciated. Like I was dancing to please Him and strangely, that He loved it. I felt like the King was delighting in me dancing for Him. Like He was raising his sceptre to show that He approved of my presence and that He asked me, “Ask me for anything you want, and I'll give it to you.” It’s the best thing to hear from someone who owns the whole universe!
So dance when you’re alone. Let go of that tautness and rigidity you maintain when you’re with people. Take all those masks off and dance till you drop. Make the King happy and there’s no better feeling than to know you are appreciated, loved and craved for!
2 comments:
"The Spirit of God dances. He can't be tamed. He won't be contained. He refuses to be confined to a weekend retreat, an evening meeting, or even a moment of devotion. He doesn't follow schedules, programs, or agendas, and He doesn't wait for His name to be called.
The Spirit of God dances. He dances right under the noses of those who don't believe in dancing; and He dances right on by those who do. He dances through the assemblies of the keepers of the dance, and right on out the door — and no one sees Him go.
And as the dancers continue the empty steps of their pantomime, the Spirit of God dances on out into the streets. He dances by the harlots in the red-light districts, by the victims of AIDS in lonely homes, by bag ladies in the inner cities, and by struggling farm families across the plains. He finds the orphans and widows and dances through the lonely pain of their lives. He dances through the camps of hungry children, through the crowded streets of the oppressed, and past the wire where the South African woman is hanging out ragged laundry as well as by the scrubbed white faces sitting in church in the nearby city.
Sometimes the dance turns to mourning, but always there's the dance. Happy dance or sad dance....the Spirit of God always dances.
His favorite dancing places are those where the keepers of the dance don't want Him to go: on MTV, on drive-in movie screens, or on smoky stages with microphones that smell of whiskey. The Spirit of God loves sinners and dances best where life spills out on the floor.
Occasionally He dances on the clean, sweet-smelling stages of the keepers of the dance — but not as often as He would like. He dances there when the keepers need Him: when there is pain, whenever life spills out on the floor. But usually the floor is clean and the dance is simulated, carefully choreographed by the keepers of the dance to use only those steps with which they feel secure.
The Spirit of God refuses to be choreographed. His dance is raw, new, and jerky. It's not always pleasing to the eye, but His dance is fresh in the lives of human beings whose floors have not been cleaned up. It isn't well-rehearsed, polished, or perfect; it slips and slides, sometimes innovative and shocking and at other times just exhilarant, but it's always real.
Most people, even those who pride themselves in their dancing, are afraid of this spontaneous dance. They're afraid of anything they can't control; and His dance is wild, unmanageable, even mad. But most important, it's vulnerable, open to criticism — the quality they fear most. So they must create their own dance of predictable steps and prescribed routines and send all their people through dance school — or outlaw dance altogether.
But this should come as no surprise. It has always been this way. The Lord of the Dance himself was here once, and it was the same way then. He danced on the keepers' holy days and broke their holy laws. His timing — if not His whole dance — always seemed offbeat. He turned the tables on their dance in the Temple as He led a solemn dance of respect through their lighthearted nonchalance. He rode along Palm Drive atop a donkey at the head of the greatest hosanna dance ever.
He wanted to turn their empty religious movements into heartfelt, joyous dancing. He wanted them to exchange the grip of the Law for the freedom of the dance.
But they thought He was a clumsy dancer, always bumping into their traditions and stepping on their pious toes. He even danced with the wrong crowd, in smoke-filled rooms and on messy floors.
Once He described His generation and declared, "We played the flute for you, but you would not dance; we sang a dirge, and you did not mourn. For John came neither eating nor drinking, and they say, 'He has a demon.' The Son of Man came eating and drinking, and they say, 'Here is a glutton and drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners."
No, nothing's really changed . . . but the Spirit of God dances on."
by John Fischer from the book "Real Christians Don't Dance"
THOUGHT: "Those who dance are thought mad by those who don't hear the music." (-- Bert)
Thanks for sharing this! It's lovely :)
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