In my relationship with God, I often feel like I’m dancing with Him and learning the moves only as we are dancing. Sometimes we dance smoothly because I trust Him to guide me along the dance floor. Other times I’m looking down at my feet, trying to anticipate His moves too quickly and ruining the whole flow.
The times when I trust Him, I’m not thinking about where we are going or overthinking His moves while He twirls me and guides me. It’s smooth and looks great on the outside because I let go knowing that I am not the one leading. I don’t have to be a good dancer, but I feel the steps in my soul and allow His arms to guide me where He wants me to go. It’s easy and peaceful. It feels at that moment like there is no way I could go back to not trusting Him.
Then the song changes, and we move into doing something new and unknown to me. He still knows what to do, but I begin to overthink and anticipate His moves before He makes them. I look down at our feet, and although His steps are still smooth, mine are stepping at twice the pace they should, which makes me look awkward and childish. I keep overthinking and obsessing over how the past steps from other songs felt so easy, and now it feels impossible to stay in step with Him. I remember how wonderful it felt to trust Him to guide me, but the present frustration and confusion are overwhelming. I think about the past, present, and future all at once; it’s impossible to stay in the moment and enjoy the dance again. He is still confident and patient with me, but I look around in desperation, wondering how to trust Him again.
The past overwhelms me. The smooth moments of a problematic dance happened because I wasn’t fighting against Him. I trust Him to lead the dance moves. I wonder if I could ever do this right. If we ever had the smooth, trusting relationship that I imagined. In this chaotic moment, it doesn’t seem possible to have that great relationship with Him.
I take a deep breath and look into His eyes. He shows me through the love in His eyes that He is trustworthy. He knows what I’m doing; we’ve been here many times before. He knows I’m having trouble trusting Him and being vulnerable again, but He is steadfast. He continues to move, slowing down but allowing me to see Him for who He really is. He is the one who sees my heart. He’s not angry. He continues to guide me while showing me that I don’t need to know where we are going and which steps we are taking. Instead, He’s showing me to take one step at a time while learning the flow of this new dance.
I lift my head from looking at my feet, trying not to be angry at myself for missing the steps. I roll back my shoulders and lift my chin, eyes locking with His. I remind myself that I can trust Him more than myself. I know Him, and He knows me. He loves me and sees my beauty. I feel His arm push me back, I step and stumble, but He holds me up, not letting me let go of his gaze. I take another step with Him as He pulls me back across the dance floor towards Him. I let go of His elbow and rest my hand on His large shoulder allowing this strong pose to move me where He wants me to go.
Soon, this new dance feels as comfortable as the previous dances that felt so natural. We are moving with more detailed and complicated moves, but I have learned to loosen up, trust Him and not dwell on mistakes when I stumble. The errors aren’t phasing Him, so I begin to trust that it’s part of the process. I feel again that it’s impossible not to have this strong, trusting relationship with Him, but I know He will be with me through it all if I begin to stumble again.
A beautiful description of life and the ebb and flow of our trust in a faithful God.