One thing (out of several) that I adore about my daughter, Delaney, is her free-spirited dancing. She loves to dance. If we’re at a wedding reception, and there’s dancing, you better believe that she will dance until she simply can’t anymore. The only thing that successfully ends her dancing streak is when fatigue settles in, and her mind and body finally shut down. In fact, there was one occasion in which I found Delaney literally sleeping on the dance floor toward the end of the night. (She takes seriously the notion of “dance till you drop”).
Years ago, I was going through a difficult time and found an escape from the troubles of life within the confines of my church. Each day was a struggle; but I felt refreshed and at home when I walked into church on Sundays, engaged in worship, and listened to a meaningful sermon. However, even though I felt a sense of internal, spiritual refreshment, outside I probably still looked broken. It was during this time that my daughter showed me something very important, even if I was initially uncomfortable.
In addition to Delaney’s love of dancing is her love of music (they sort of go hand-in-hand); and she wanted to be present whenever and wherever there was live music. So I made it a routine to have Delaney join me during the musical-worship portion of the service before sending her off with the other children for their own service.
One of the first times I brought Delaney with me, she completely caught me off guard. As the music was playing, she looked up at me with those beautiful blue eyes and asked, “Daddy, will you dance with me?”
I hesitated for a moment. I had grown up in a church where people danced up and down the aisles, and I thought it was weird. But something within my soul prompted me to accept Delaney’s request. So I somewhat reluctantly took her by the hand and we made our way to the aisle. We linked our hands together, and danced as the music filled the room. The more we danced, the less uncomfortable I felt. Instead of weird, it felt right. It felt perfect.
As we continued to dance, another little girl came out from a row in front of us and started to dance as well. Delaney stopped and tugged on my shirt. I knelt down and she whispered in my ear, “Daddy, I’m going to dance with that girl over there.”
I watched Delaney approach the girl, and they started dancing together – careless of their surroundings and fully embracing the moment. The prompting that enabled me to dance with Delaney came with a subtle voice this time: “This is how it should be.” When I heard this, and as I continued watching the girls dance, I tear slowly trickled down my cheek. I wiped the tear away, and as soon as I did, I noticed something remarkable: Everyone in the room, with huge smiles on their faces, was watching them. In that moment I wondered: Did they hear it, too? And then I heard it again, “This is how it should be…When you’re with me, this is how it should be.”
“This is how it should be.”
I don’t have much to say beyond the story I shared. I think the beauty within it speaks for itself. However, I will say that I’m beginning to understand more and more Jesus’ words of embracing God and His kingdom as a child (Matthew 18:3; Mark 10:15; Luke 18:17). It’s not about forgoing maturity or intellectual progress. It’s not about dismissing reality. It’s not about ignoring the daily or circumstantial struggles of life. It’s about casting aside the worries that have been buried within our being. It’s about releasing what has become so important to us – that is, the element of control. It’s about releasing the weight of our struggles, even if it’s only for a brief moment. It’s about experiencing the joy that was brought to us in the life of Jesus and what He accomplished. This is how it should be.
Dancing in the middle of a worship service might seem irrational, or just flat out weird. And maybe it is. But then again we have to ask ourselves: Why? Perhaps we’re worried about our image; we’re worried about what others might think of us. We’re concerned that others might judge us and label us a charismatic kook. Or perhaps we just don’t feel like it. That is, maybe life itself is really dragging us down to the point that it’s a struggle to just show up at church. (These are my issues and concerns, at least).
I’m not saying that I have since become a person who freely starts dancing in church. The truth is that I’m not. But I think the act of responding (in that moment) to what may have been God’s prompting is at the heart of the matter. Maybe next time He won’t prompt me to dance, maybe it will be something else. But whatever it may be, I’m sure it will involve stepping out of my comfort zone and embracing the task with the heart of a child.
And finally, I think the joy of dancing as a child tells us something as well. It wasn’t just the act of responding to dance in church with Delaney. It was the context of our dancing. We were dancing in church. We were dancing to songs of worship. We were dancing in God’s presence. There should be a sense of joy in celebrating His presence…like the free-spirited dancing of a child.
Michael Fessler is a writer, speaker, and the author of Faith and Wrestling, They’re Just Not Interested, and The Wrestler.
Michael Fessler Blog 