Wednesday, February 10, 2016
I Want to Dance With You—Right Now!
By Micky Wolf
It has been a tradition for a number of years for the pastor of our church to say thank you to staff and volunteers by hosting an annual Saturday evening get together that includes food and plenty of time for relaxing and fellowship. The large hall is filled with tables of eight, folks who’ve given generously of their time, talent, and gifts.
We’d finished our meal, enjoying conversation with our table companions, greeting and meeting others. The deejay played several fast tunes, then decided it was time for something slower.
The first note was all it took—it was “our song”, one that is a meaningful part of our earliest memories of dating and marriage.
“Let’s dance,” my beloved whispered in my ear as he took my hand. The floor was crowded, in a good way.
He didn’t need to ask twice. I snuggled closer as we moved among the other couples. Words seemed unnecessary, apart from sharing our gratitude and thanksgiving for our many years together and the multitude of ways God has blessed us.
The song finished all too soon. Sensing the mood and tone of the crowd, the deejay played another slow one, the perfect choice for the moment.
And then it happened.
I’d seen the young man enter the floor about twenty feet away. He was alone. But not for long. He was clearly on a mission. Couple by couple, he began cutting in, grabbing the arms of the unsuspecting females, sashaying about for a few moments, then dashing on to the next. The whole time the men were grinning, making sure to stay out of the way.
Under any other circumstance this unfolding of events would have seemed rude. Not on this occasion and for very good reason.
You see the young man at the center of the frenzy of activity is, by present day compassionate nomenclature, “differently abled”. As a result, he is child-like in the best sense. Carefree. Spontaneous. For all intent and purpose, oblivious to the finer rules of etiquette and proper manners.
Again and again he shouted, “Come on, I want to dance with you!”
Then it was my turn. My beloved and I had a split second to respond as the whirling feet and bundle of joy burst upon us. Jeffrey (not his real name) and I bobbled and wobbled and stepped and dipped. And then he was gone, on to the next lady-in-waiting.
And not a woman on that dance floor, or for that matter, her companion, would have wanted it any other way.
While it is true most of us know Jeffrey, there was no missing the mile-wide grin on his face, the light in his eyes, and the flit in his feet, the sum total more than enough to brighten the day of the (excuse the train wreck of grammar) curmudgeonliest curmudgeon in the room.
All of which brings me to the assemblage of apples.
They’re all red. Except one.
They’re all round. Although one has a leaf.
They’re all shiny and smooth. Oh, maybe a little bump here or there.
Kind of like the gathering at our Saturday evening soiree. All of us, beings created in the image and likeness of our Creator God. Yet enough variety and distinct difference to make things interesting. To provide opportunity for variety and uniqueness.
In the end, we were offered an unexpected gift—one we could accept with graciousness and the joy in which it was given.
No fancy wrappings. No profound words. No fear or hesitating. Just jumping its way into our lives in that moment, simply for the sake of being able to do so.
Methinks more than a few angelic beings, and for that matter, the Divine, were having just as much fun as we were.