Rumba classes aside, not a dancer
Published 7:05 am Wednesday, September 6, 2023
By Les Ferguson Jr.
Way back in high school, the Steve Miller Band sang “Dance, Dance, Dance.” In the first verse you’ll hear, “I don’t know but I’ve been told if you never stop dancing, you’ll never grow old.”
I’m not much of a dancer and that’s probably a good thing, even if it does mean I’ll eventually grow old.
As a preacher’s kid long ago, dancing was a no-no. That meant no homecoming dance, no prom, no Friday, or Saturday night sock-hop.
Looking back, it seems a bit sad. But the truth is, while I mourned that stance in high school, it most likely saved me from loads of embarrassment.
First, I had no idea how to dance at all. Yes, I could have done the slow dance shuffle with one caveat: No one wouldn’t see my awkwardness with everyone’s eyes closed. Although, they may have heard my dance partner loudly exclaim as I stepped on her feet.
This leads me to the second saved embarrassment. I have little to no rhythm. I can’t clap my hands in time much less move and groove with any sense of grace.
If I had gone to a dance in the 9th grade, I would have spent the rest of my high school career known as the Dancing Dork or the Dancing Doofus.
Worse, I probably could have never attended a class reunion in the years to come.
And if I were to bust a move at this stage of my life, it’d likely involve a very painful visit to a chiropractor.
No, I don’t dance. Except for the time my wife finagled me to take a one-time Rumba class with her and a couple of friends. Hopefully, with any luck I’ve been banned for life.
So no, I don’t dance. At least like that. But I am rethinking the whole concept from a totally different perspective.
One of my favorite songs at church talks about dancing the dance of praise.
That’s something we all like. I like to hear I’ve preached a good sermon, written a good article or even vacuumed the house well. But it is plain as the nose on my face and yours that anything I do, well or not, pales in comparison to the handiwork of God.
During the summer we went to the Garden of the Gods in Colorado. Absolutely stunning.
A few days ago, there was a ginormous full moon. Incredibly beautiful. My social media feeds were full of lunar praise.
And as I write this morning, a soft, cool rain is making coffee on the porch such a welcome and enjoyable treat.
A dance of praise? I may not be able to do the Cha-Cha, but as I look around in gratitude, my heart dances in celebration of the God who made it all!
Care to join me?
“Hallelujah! Praise God in his sanctuary. Praise him in his mighty expanse. Praise him for his powerful acts; praise him for his abundant greatness.” (Psalm 150:1–2)
Les Ferguson, Jr., is minister at Oxford Church of Christ. Write to him a email@example.com