Jacob wrestles at the yabok (art by Dov Lederberg found on http://www.art.net/~vision/dov2b.htm)
In a dance, one person leads and one person follows…or at least in a beautiful, smooth, natural dance. At least, I think that’s how it is supposed to work. I’ve never learned to dance … it’s not from a lack of attempts to teach me, mind you. My Grandpa tried to teach me once after a couple failed attempts to lead me in a dance step or two. He had me stand on his feet when I was still light enough to do that sort of thing and moved around the room. My goal was just to hang on. We danced! Well, sort of.
I can imagine some similarities between that experience of dancing and how it is in my life with God. I’m supposed to dance, to let God lead, to move with God as we gracefully, naturally, beautifully dance—like maybe the Spirit did over the waters in the beginning—creating anew. The problem is, I never really got the hang of it. I keep trying to lead and the dance is jerky and rough. Sometimes the dance is more like a wrestling match as I fight for some sort of control. Sometimes, God is dancing all alone while I get distracted by who knows what else. Sometimes, well, sometimes I just don’t want to dance at all because I don’t like the music …
The thing is, I really do want to dance. The couple of times I have experienced almost dancing in step with the Divine has been amazing. My life, again and again is transformed by God when I just give it a whirl. There is nothing like standing on God’s feet while the world spins around you and you feel like maybe, just maybe, we’re dancing. Perhaps, the best I can do is to simply hang on and pray—God, don’t let me go.