As I sit alone in the corner, I wonder if ever I will be worth the choosing. I see the motions sweeping across the dance floor, in beautiful sync. I long to be a part, of anything really, but the picturesque view I behold captures me. It looks so…alive. That is the only word I can use to describe what I see in front of me. Life. Such a drastic contrast to my own self and what I see everyday as I look into my jaded mirror. It is not that I feel like death, more so that I feel as if I am nothing. Not worth the glance from one of those I see before me. Yet somewhere, deep within me, there is a glimmer of hope. Hope of something more, that maybe Someone will look past who I am and speak the words I long to hear. “Shall we dance?”

My heart beats faster as I look up. I realize that as my own thoughts formed those very words, they were being spoken into the air around me. I knew it was not my own voice I heard, but one far more majestic. At first I fear that it was simply my imagination, my mind so longing to hear that blessed inquiry that it deceived itself into believing in its existence. However, as I raise my eyes to meet His, I find that those words were no more fictional than the air I breathe. There He stands, in all of His splendor, waiting for me to accept His offer.

Yet I hesitate. It seems there is a fear that continues to reside within me; the fear that although He is not fictional, He will find that I am. I could not possibly be the one He meant to choose. I do not have skilled feet, nor do I know the rhythm. I am no talented dancer, and He will soon discover His error.

As I am about to decline His unmerited petition, He speaks again. It’s as though He knows every one of my thoughts when He says, “I’ve been waiting for you. Come, I’ll teach you.

“You see, I am the Choreographer of the dance. I am the Composer of the song, but I am also the Artist who painted the beautiful picture I see before Me; the one with whom I long to share this dance.”

He leads me onto the dance floor as my heart races. Fears and doubts still consume me. It’s not that I do not believe the words He speaks, I simply do not trust myself. I am far too aware of my own tendency to fall.

But as He draws me close to Himself, He again articulates, with that same love and gentle care, the familiarity He seems to have with my own anxieties. The very anxieties I once prided myself in keeping so skillfully veiled.

“If you fall, I will catch you. My arms are strong, and My feet quick. You are the one I chose, and I still desire to dance with you. I chose you, not because I know I can catch you when you fall, but because I know that when you rise, you will be closer to Me. I am deeply in love with you. I know your very being, and am captured by it. So, My exquisite one, shall we dance?”

His words calm my fears, and the music begins. I follow His lead, step after step, motion after motion, floating across the floor that my feet once yearned for. Never have I known such love, such grace. I am overwhelmed.

As I look into His eyes, looking for the love I know is there, I find myself catching a glimpse of my own reflection. The repulsive vision I see causes me to quickly turn my head. I move my gaze from the One I love to the floor beneath me, and my attention falls on my feet. I realize that my very fears have become a reality. My steps have been broken and muddled, a loathsome mess. I had thought that I was following His lead, His steps, but I was leading myself. And so I stop, I feel as if I cannot take another step; I am broken. At that moment, my Friend places His strong, yet gentle hand beneath my chin and raises my head to view His.

“My love, why have you stopped?”

I respond slowly, “Because I could never become who You need me to become. I have seen who I am, and I know my steps are far less than adequate for this dance with a King.”

“No.” He replies, “Look again. You must seek a deeper depiction, one beyond the surface façade. Do you not see the beauty that captivates Me? What you do not realize is that as we move together, as your steps follow Mine, we become one. You must not be diverted by the blemishes you may see. It is true that they are there, but as you see them, seek My strength. For by that alone will you become aware that you are Mine, and I see you as My beautiful dove. You have captivated My heart, and I will always love you. Do you not see this truth, My darling?”

After taking a moment to absorb the depth of indication in His words, I softly respond, “I suppose I am learning.”

“Well, I shall continue to teach.”

I allow my eyes to return to His, and as I do, I again see that revolting picture of who I am. This time, however, I choose to heed His voice and look beyond the surface. I gaze intently; searching for the “more” He insists is there. And I see it. Such strength, such splendor, it is like nothing I have ever glimpsed before. The realization that strikes me is astounding. This strength is for me.

And as I look to this newfound-strength, we begin the dance afresh. We float across the floor in excellent finery, and soon I notice all He said was true. I find myself finally matching His steps, and realizing that the once cast-off dancer was now a beautiful creation becoming one with her Creator.

And so the dance continues.

Eventually, I lose track of the time gone by. I feel as if I could dance this dance forever. I have mastered the steps and am confident of the direction. And in this manner, the dance carries on for quite some time.

However, I ultimately begin to realize that the expression in my Love’s face has changed. The love and the gentle strength are still there, but there is something new, something that brings trepidation to my heart. At first, I try to ignore it; maybe I am misreading this new air, but there comes a point when I can no longer disregard the concerns of the One in whom I trust.

“What is it?” I stop and ask warily, catching my breath.

“You have forgotten Me.” He responds.

“Forgotten You?” I question. “How can I have forgotten You? I am dancing with You.”

“You have forgotten My lead. You learned the steps well, but you are no longer resting in My arms. You have become so confident in your own understanding of the dance, you’ve stopped listening to the song. Do you hear it? It has changed. Yet you are still dancing the dance you know.

“The dance is not simply about the steps. You can know and master the steps of a dance, but without the proper balance between you and your dance partner, there is no art, no beauty.

“The balance lies only in Me. You must rest in My lead, else our dance loses the art for which it was created, and the beauty I have placed in you cannot be exposed. I long to show off that which I have created, but I cannot do so if it is squelched.”

As I continue to catch my breath from the dance I had begun to lead myself, I realize again my weakness. This time though, I recognize that my very weakness was my strength. What I knew, what I was confident in, was the very thing that made me weak. This is yet another painful revelation of my own weaknesses. However, I find it is surprisingly a comforting revelation, despite the hurt pride involved. I do not have to make myself weary? I truly can rest all I am on this One I have come to love? I can rest after all.

“My Love, forgive my pride and overconfidence in my knowledge of the steps. I realize now that it is only You that can make this dance effortless and graceful. I surrender to Your lead, and Your knowledge of the steps. It is You I will follow, and on You I will rest.”

“You are already forgiven, My darling. Now, won’t you dance with Me again?”

And so, the dance goes on. I would love to say it is perfect from now on, with me resting and trusting in His strong, elegant leading, but that would be far from truth. I continue to need to be corrected, and He, in His perfect way, corrects Me. I continue to fall, and He continues to pick me up. I still miss a step, and He guides Me to Himself.

But, I suppose, that is the dance...