Freedom and … new steps of surrender

And then…came a different dance.

I was lost in the melody, my ear attuned for the expected. The tempo shifted ever so slightly, and my footing grew unsteady. The music became more insistent, and my repertoire of steps somehow wouldn’t mesh or mingle with what the music was asking of me. All I knew was truly about to change.  

A hand grabbed mine. I had thought I was alone. I faltered and fumbled. The unsurety of this stranger’s presence caught me off guard. I knew I was in a safe place. I knew the trustworthiness of the studio instructor, so whenever I was asked to try something new, I acquiesced. I knew that my steps would inevitably be refined, honed and the dance to come, held new possibility far beyond my imagination.  

But this, surrendering to another person? Early on I had partnered with a few, only to be overpowered and left spent and hurting. I’d known my Abba’s steps. Those hands that held me were always ones I felt secure in. 

I tentatively looked up and there were the kindest eyes I’d ever seen. The music played on, its unknown tune leaving me at quite the disadvantage. I looked around to see how others were purposing their steps. All was largely unfamiliar, yet somehow it felt right. Each time I diverted my gaze, I was directed in the gentlest but firmest of ways, to keep my eyes fixed on him alone. I’d surrender to his leading, delighting in this precious dance until my eyes inevitably would drop down, trying to figure out the adequacy of my moves. I knew better. Honing in on my feet, trying to predict the next step robbed me of the beauty of the dance. “Just be”, I’d once heard. Now, it was “Just follow”.

My husband came softly into my life, without demands or unrealistic expectation. He saw me. He studied what buoyed my spirit and what sent it crashing. He slid my hand into his and I discovered humility and strength. His steps were always unhurried yet expectant. I knew a new level of safety and trust for I learned the freedom of dance. The most beautiful of routines became an everyday gift involving trust and gratitude. With one I had a firm place to land, with the other, I found I could soar. Together, we explored new heights and continued to learn the art of grace and giving. Partners for life, the mere truth of it exhilarating… until one day we were not. 

Jesus reminds us to keep our eyes fixed securely on Him alone. Dancing this life of grace in His arms is both indescribable yet at a bare minimum, amazing. The unfamiliar turns are always part of the journey, but we are secure in His steadfast arms.  Our hearts are prone to measure our steps or compare our dance to that of others but His still small voice, gentle but firm nudge reminds us where to fix our eyes. He says, ” I am the Way, the Truth and the Life.” That is a trustworthy promise. 

 And now? I dance alone, but not alone. Never forsaken. I have a Comforter who buoys me up and ensures soft landings when I fall. I am discovering a greater love for music. Tunes can change but the voice of the One who called me does not. Today, I am less concerned about where my steps land. (No, I am not a dancer in real life as that last comment affirms, nor do I play one on TV.) I am content to listen for His voice and direction for the ideas of man and my own natural tendencies can cause me to stumble. When all the world feels as if it has spun off its axis, I hear -peace, be still. Though the ground shakes beneath my feet, though fog and storm – cloud my vision; this, I do. I fix my eyes on Him as He leads, steadying my heart, lifting my spirit. The music plays on in yet another different tempo. This time, I am encouraged to “Just dance”.