At a church youth group dance during my first youth director gig, the Soul Train lines formed, guys in one line, girls in the other. We paired up one couple at a time and danced down the middle. I knew I couldn’t dance, but I tried my hardest to be cool when my turn came. Unfortunately, my previous efforts as a youth pastor to be funny made my attempt to move rhythmically and look cool result in an inordinate amount of laughter, which I never forgot, vowing inwardly never to try to dance seriously again.
This worked for a few years until my fiancée told me we were going to six dance lessons to learn how to feature the choreography at our wedding. Three hundred sixty dollars and six weeks later, I don’t know if I was smooth, but I got through it, and I didn’t drop her.
Now I dance and move like crazy, some just to embarrass my family and my students, some just because I feel it, and some even as I sense the presence of God’s Spirit. The arms and legs moving through the thickness of God’s Spirit lets me soak Him in—His comfort and peace, His love and healing.