Thursday, October 29, 2009

part ii: dancing.


Written for a Bible study on David and the Psalms. October 18. 

How often do our mountaintop experiences end in disappointment or ridicule?

David comes off his spiritual high rejoicing, praising God in a way I don’t think we fully understand or appreciate.

And he is greeted at the foot of his mountaintop by an increasingly unhappy wife.

A wife who cannot fathom the depth of her husband’s love for his Lord.

A wife who shakes her head in embarrassment.

Who explains away the praise.

“Oh, that’s just David, showing off again. You know how he can come across. Just give him what he wants: look at him. Maybe then he’ll stop.”

I am learning that there are a lot of Michals in this world.

People who roll their eyes or judge motives of the heart.

Our God doesn’t applaud that kind of behavior.

So why do I so often hide my own dance from others’ eyes?

I cannot begin to count the number of times I have fallen to the ground, asking my Father for more faith, more understanding. Begging for forgiveness and help from above.

He has always answered.

But I don’t know that I have always danced.

I wonder if I’ve let the Michals of this life determine how I give praise to my Creator.

I bet my Father wishes I would have danced.

After I rose up from the water, or

The day my grandmother’s cancer went into remission, or

On that spring afternoon I found out God had given me the internship of my dreams.

I wonder if I danced with abandon on my wedding day, or

The morning I graduated with that hard-earned degree.

Did I dance when my father got the job he needed, or

After a professor informed me I could—and should—become who I wanted to be?

My life is overflowing with these moments of triumph, of blessing. Moments when God gave me just what I had been looking for.

I wish I had danced more.

And I think I will dance more.

Because the Michals of the world are missing out. They’re holding back their own praise and criticizing others’, all in the name of pride.

I don’t want to be one of them.

So I will celebrate mightily.

I will remember regularly.

And I will choose to dance with abandon.

1 comment:

Lindsey said...

I love to dance in praise to God. And I don't think I do it nearly enough either. It's so easy to let the judgments of others prevent us from truly worshipping our Lord. But when we actually decide to disregard their unnecessary discouragement, it's so freeing and I think we are able to experience God on a more intimate level...even when we dance.