May I have this dance?

So, that phrase, which is now painted in pretty letters on my wall, was birthed in my heart during a very difficult time. In the midst of my self-imposed sabbatical from all the distractions in my life, we had a worship night at church. I had really been wrestling with God about the limits I sensed He was wanting on my computer use, eating habits, etc. . . It was a season of pruning in my life, and it didn't feel good.

On the other hand, it was a season in which I had complete confidence that God was doing something big in my life. The reason I had the courage and perseverance to willingly submit to His radical limits was because He had so clearly demonstrated His love to me, and I knew He wanted to heal the hurt places in my life. Even while I was wrestling with the rigidity of it all, I was rejoicing in the change that was taking place in me.

It was in that state of mind - both wrestling and rejoicing - that I went to a Friday night worship time at Salem Alliance. It was a beautiful time of meeting with the Lord - and I was blessed in so many, many ways. It was in that place of worship that God spoke something profound to my heart. As I stood in worship, I felt as though I was in the throne room of heaven. In my mind I saw Jesus standing in front of His throne, the Father sitting in His.

I should interject and say that when I "saw" this, it's not as if it were a clear vision in my mind. I didn't see as with my eyes, but with my heart. With a sense of knowing who was there, more than seeing who was there. I know that's a little bizarre, but it's how I sometimes relate with God.

So, I knew myself to be worshiping at the very thrones of God, and Jesus was loving me. He was just gazing on me with love - receiving my worship. The Father was pleased. He was over the top excited that Jesus had conquered sin and made a way for me to be with them. It wasn't like my old picture of a stern father who begrudgingly accepts payment for my sin - but rather a picture of a father at a sporting event, roaring his approval to his children below the stands. It was a touching time for me, as I sensed God's pleasure, both in the work of His son to bring me home, and His pleasure in me. Just because.

At some point in the worship set, I imagined Jesus stepping forward and saying, "May I have this dance?" And I somehow knew that the dance was life, and He wanted to lead me. That's when it all came clear to me. In dancing the man leads, and the woman follows. She doesn't decide the steps they are going to take, he does. It can seem like a bummer of a role for the woman. And yet, if the man is a pure-hearted man, his goal is always to make the woman shine. He chooses the moves they will make and the path they will take in order to give her room to move and expose her beauty. The man leads, and the woman shines.

I sensed that was the kind of dance Jesus was inviting me to enter. A dance where he leads and sometimes the moves can seem difficult to me, even frustrating or confusing. I can't see through the crowd, let alone the next corner. But Jesus knows all the steps, all the other dancers, all the corners in the path, and He knows me. He knows my strengths and my weaknesses. He knows what is required of me and what I have to give. He knows. And He was extending His hand to me, saying, "May I have this dance?"

It was in that place that I quit wrestling with God over what seemed harsh restrictions in my life, extended my hand to Jesus, and said, "Yes, you may have this dance." In essence what I was saying was, "Jesus, I trust you with my life. You can lead me down any path. You can prune me any way you see fit. I know your heart is to bless me and make me shine. And you, better than anyone else, know my true beauty and how to expose it. So, yes, you may have this dance. I will follow You."

The writing on my wall in my worship room is simply to remind me each day that there is an invitation extended to me - and I have the amazing opportunity to step into the dance each day - living the way I was created to live. Thriving in the beauty that is mine in Christ. I smile as I write and wish I could explain better to you what a spacious, amazing, soul-filling place God has led me to. Truly, I can say with the Psalmist, "He makes me lie down in green pastures, He leads me beside quiet waters, He restores my soul."