I Danced to Be Freed from My Own Prison

“David retorted, “I was dancing before the Lord…yes, I am willing to look even more foolish than this, even to be humiliated in my own eyes.'” Samuel 6:21-22

I think back to weeks ago where I’d boldly prayed, “Jesus, can you remove my need to please people, so that I can just do the things that please you?” This request laid rest within me, awaiting a moment to come. We’re up in the Himalayas now, spending time hiking and praying together as a team over the villages that are nestled in-between these mountain peaks. Today, many leaders in the Christian churches from the Pokhara city-area are visiting us to receive a teaching and join in corporate worship.

The service begins with clapping, the primitive village’s congregation of believers declaring their devotion to God in song. From among many, a woman rises near the front of the church and begins dancing alone to the music. She is unashamed. Her smile is brimming in the ecstasy of worship to her King. I am transfixed on the joy that pours over her soul.

“Come dance with me, daughter,” the Father says secretly to my heart.

The invitation catches me off guard, sending my heart beating with the urge to go; yet, I remain sitting in fear of what other’s may think. What if I look completely ludicrous? But…how could I not take His hand and trust Him in this? The woman’s feet are skipping in circles of wonder.

The battle wages on between my desire as a daughter and my sensible reason. Unmoved, I sit still with hands folded uncomfortably in my lap. I’ve been paralyzed for years by these underlying insecurities and fears that scream louder and louder from deep within me. My team leader, Emily, reaches over and touches my clasped fists, seeming to read my thoughts entirely, “You can go dance with her, Jen.” My second invitation from Papa.

I remain in the back of the church, eyes intently settled upon her movements as she sways near the alter. Her feet are bare, dancing on holy ground. “Could I really stand up in front of all these people?” I hesitate for a song and feel the weight of an opportunity missed as the woman once again takes her seat.

“Papa, if you’d have her dance again, I will go up and dance with her,” I whisper against my own thundering pulse.

With a sudden transition in tempo, she rises once more, like a bird spreading glorious wings. Her extended arms begin swaying to the rhythm of the Nepali worship. My heart rate soars in thrilled anxiety, as I obediently leap up and begin down the church’s isle to be a fool for my Love. Cheers from the congregation ring in my ears, heaven’s applause pumping in my veins. The woman herself embraces me, reaching up to kiss my cheek before we begin dancing again.

Slowly at first, my hands flutter freely above my head and I twirl around, a dance that could free me from my own prison. I share in this joy-dancing with another daughter of Christ, each of us abandoning shame to just be women in love. This is my declaration for freedom. This is joy captured for eternity. This is utter foolishness, but a delight to the Father.

I could live this high forever, dancing madly before my King. That I would be like David, losing it all in passionate expression without a care of another’s opinion. I want a love like this with my Jesus, all the days of my life.

Why is it that we are so afraid to be foolish for the Lord, when in the end it gives His heart and our own such joy? In the moment I surrendered all my shame and insecurities, I gained everything.

“There is no shame in looking like a fool, when I give You what I can’t keep to take ahold of You.” United Pursuit