I never danced formally until my sophomore year of college when, at my mother’s behest, I agreed to be a debutante. My friend Eric agreed to be my escort.
An elderly woman with a salt-and-pepper Farrah Fawcett hairdo that stuck to her head like a helmet taught us to waltz. We were dancing to “Fascination,” a song I would be happy never to hear again. Each time she instructed us on the count she would say, “Fas-Suh-Nay-Shun I know, two, three.” Eric and I would laugh, our hands awkwardly placed on the shoulder and waist, trying not to look at our feet.
My dad flew in on the weekend of the event, so he did not have the luxury of weeks of “Fas-Suh-Nay-Shun I know, two, three.” He had to endure the waltz crash course, complete with turns and bow. On day two of our lesson, he said “Do you know that when we’re turning, you squeeze my shoulder and turn it in the direction of the way you think we’re supposed to be going?”
“What?!” I said, aghast, then stared at my death grip on his shoulder, my fingerprints burning through his sweater. That was my first lesson that I may have learned how to waltz but didn’t know how to follow.
In a formal dance, the man is the lead. He controls the turns; he keeps an eye out on the dance floor so that the two of you don’t run into other couples. He makes sure you step in your space wisely. In a formal dance, the woman’s job is to relax her arms, fingers, back and shoulders, to stand strong and straight but fluid enough to be directed, to keep good rhythm and be ready for any turn. A good male dancer can make a woman who is a novice look like she knows what she’s doing, if he leads her well.
Learning how to waltz for my debutante ball made me see for the first time the beauty of the metaphor of Jesus as groom and the church as his bride. If faith is a dance, Jesus is always the lead. He controls the turns; he teaches us to turn in the space he’s given us. This requires us to surrender to him, to trust that he knows what he’s doing and where we’re going.
Taken from Breaking Old Rhythms: Answering the Call of a Creative God by Amena Brown. Copyright ©2013 by Amena Brown. Used by permission of InterVarsity Press. www.ivpress.com.
