Dancing

I’ve been reading a Beth Moore book over the last few days, and she had an incredible thought that spun me off in a new direction in my writing. So I thought I would share.

“The church, comprised of all believers in Jesus, is generally pretending she’s cloaked with kingdom power and effectiveness while in reality she has exposed herself in powerlessness to the ridicule of the world.”

Which got me wondering – how have I been pretending?  How often do I dance yet forget to hear the music, to confine myself to it’s edges, it’s heart, passion and pull?  Music is only beautiful when it is marvelled at, respected, honored, cherished, and adopted in the movement of the dancer.  A broken rhythm is the end of the beauty, the crashdown of the dance, where the dancer is exposed to ridicule and laughter.  it is never the music that falters in its beats.  It is the dancer that refuses to play along, to absorb and adhere to something (the music) and someone (the composer) bigger than themselves.  When that happens, it is the obliteration of a moment meant to be entirely beautiful.  Instead, it is entirely gone wrong, with no one in the audience to blame.  The dancer, so caught up in the intricacies of their own dance, misses it when the lights come up and the janitors come in to sweep away the final gum wrappers and popcorn kernels left from an audience who came to see the world and left with only broken hearts and empty souls  - unfilled, untended, unamazed, simply because the dancer lied – they did not know best.  

So, if in my life, if I’ve hurt you with my wrong steps, if I’ve made you believe something that wasn’t true, I am so sorry.  I am completely imperfect and broken.  But God is working his way through my life, slowly.  Please don’t let my mistakes distract you from God’s true heart and who he really is.  I want you to know that you are loved and valuable.  I’m listening, and here whenever you need me.  Want to walk through life together?