dancing

One of my favorite pictures from my childhood is of me and my dad early in the morning, sitting and having breakfast in tiny plastic chairs in my little plastic kitchen: him in a suit and me in a nightgown, little curls bouncing all over the place.

I love it for a lot of reasons, but primarily because it speaks to the love of a daddy, so willing to put aside his schedule and drink fake tea before work in the morning, and the innocence of a little girl, wanting only to spend a few minutes with her favorite man in the whole world.

I began to think on that photo tonight during worship. And on how our Heavenly Father loves us like that... but on even an entirely greater level.

A few weeks ago at Disciple Now at my church here in Mississippi, the speaker shared a story about his wife. He began to describe with such visible passion about how he cherished his bride and wanted to daily put her safe on a pedestal and let nothing harm her. The passion on his face as he told this story said that he meant it-- that he loved and cherished her so deeply that he wanted nothing to come close to wounding her-- physically, emotionally, spiritually. Whatever it takes, at any cost, to know that she is valuable and precious to him.

And as beautiful as that is to see in an earthly relationship, my heart is shaken at how much more so Jesus loves us like that. So deeply that He is willing to let nothing come between our love (Rom 8:38). So deeply that He was willing to humble himself to death on a cross (Phil. 2:8). So deeply that He calls us as church the bride of Christ and promises only to give us good. We do nothing to earn it, nothing to deserve it, He just loves us. Cherishes. So tightly that He never lets us go.

Last week I bought a dress.

It's a beautiful white, lace dress that caught my eye one afternoon in a store and was too idyllic for me to pass up. I'm planning on wearing it to my graduation, and until then it was intended to safely hang in the back of my closet and wait. But tonight as I cried out to the Lord in worship, I kept being reminded of that dress. I put the thought aside a few times and then with all confusion asked "Lord, why?" 

 His response was near audible:

"Put on your white dress and dance with me." 

I'm not sure if I began to laugh at that moment or not... laughing, as a natural overflow of my heart. I see what you're saying here, Lord. I'm seeing the imagery and all you're piecing together...

So with only a slight hesitation at feeling silly, I went home, put on my white dress, built a beautiful playlist, and did something I haven't done in a long time. I danced. Around my living room, all by myself, in my prettiest dress. Giving my best to Him, remembering how deeply He cherishes me, and offering up myself as a sacrifice-- all my dreams, all my desires, all my worries. Like a little girl playing dress up; spotless, whole, and loved by her Father. He delights in us, and I laughed as I twirled around my living room, curls bouncing all over the place once again. Did I feel silly? Absolutely. But it was an act of obedience and a beautiful time of worship with my Father.

The funny thing about dancing with someone is that as the girl, you're supposed to let him lead. I confess that I'm not particularly good at this... I've been reminded of such once or twice. But tonight as I danced and laughed and gave it my all, He continually whispered to my heart to remember to let Him lead. And how beautiful it was as I felt Him take over. Me, not dancing to impress my Father but simply letting Him lead as He whispered His love. If He's leading, I can no longer focus on my future, no longer stress about what's to come, no longer ask a million questions until I'm confused and frustrated.

I can only trust and follow.

And so I tell you that story tonight simply to remind you of this:
You are loved and cherished deeply. Your Father protects you daily from harm, wants to lead you, and wants only for you to give Him your all-- your beautiful, broken pieces and your very best acts of worship as an overflow of your love.

What a sweet relationship it is. What a loving Father we have... one who dances each day with His children, deeply and wholly cherished.

Such beauty. Such truth.