May I Have This Dance?

The dance requests come at the strangest times. Requests to dance at inopportune moments. It is always the right moment I discover when I step into it.

I needed to talk – talk with God. The image that I had was Jesus seated across from me at a huge oak desk. His desk was piled high with file folders. As I sat down to ask Him questions my file was placed open upon the desk. The conversation began and when I had poured it all out I waited for Him to close the time, put the file with all the others and move on. After all isn’t that the purpose of the visit? Say what needs to be said and move on? Isn’t that how prayer time so often goes? The file remained open upon the desk, He was in no rush to move on but rather seemed intently interested in what lay beneath the questions. Just quiet, steady care that pierced my armour of self-protection. He stood and came round the desk to stand in front of me and said, “let’s dance”. Dance? How can the Physician’s office become a dance floor? How can I be asked to dance in this moment that seems so serious? Can I dance now when you know all the things I have shared? “Ah my beloved – this is the perfect time to dance. You need to be held in my arms at this moment and to feel my love for you. Come we will dance here, now in this sacred space you and I have. The Great Physician loves to dance.”

The most recent request was this last week walking by the sea. A brisk walk, exercise and then return home. Time – everything goes by time and scheduling in our world. The road on “my bit of beach” runs parallel to this rocky piece of shoreline along the Strait of Georgia. Little traffic along this beach, vehicular or pedestrian, makes it a place that beckons to avid walkers. Upon reaching the end of the road I was about to turn and head back the way I had come. But no – wait. The tide was out and had revealed a magnificent sandbar that stretched along most of the shoreline. Much too alluring to resist, it made walking across the rocky part of the beach worthwhile. I chuckled to myself as I stepped down and began to negotiate this rocky pathway. Suddenly, there it is again. The invitation to dance! How does one dance when an ungainly walk is all that I can manage? “Oh come and waltz with me, here now, across the stones.” I questioned dancing here, now? In my awkwardness and unbalanced gait it seemed too funny to be waltzing. “Test the flat stones, look for them and you will begin to move with ease.” Oh the waltz took on a faster pace and the easy rhythm of the polka came next. Across the rocks we went until the smooth sand was beneath my feet. Sandals off, bare feet squiggling in the wet sand, running to put my feet into the water and let the waves splash over my ankles, send their spray up on my thighs and hands. Glorious! Divine! Time was gone; there was no rush at all. Starfish decorated the ballroom floor, streamers of seaweed, the occasional crab who silently watched and a few jellyfish beyond observing. Seagulls, crows and oystercatchers joined the melody of the waves and the laughter of children at play. I swung my arms, sandals in my hands, kicked up my heals, pointed my toes although I didn’t manage the pirouette. The tango – I would love to dance the tango out here. His reply was “this is the time to salsa”. Leonard Sweet says, “You can’t define the salsa, only dance it”. This was a glorious dance of freedom. In Aramaic the words dance and rejoice mean the same thing. I danced, I rejoiced with wet feet and outstretched arms on the sandy dance floor.

Today I walked this sand bar again and heard: “could I have this dance for the rest of YOUR life?”

Random moments to me, chosen moments by my Beloved because He always knows the music – I don’t. He sings over me with His love.
“egli gioira di te di grande allegrezze: elgi si acquetera nel suo amore, egli festeggera di te con grida di allegrezza.” (Zephaniah 3:17)
(This Italian translation means a huge joy, a huge love, and a bold shout of joy)