dancing for jesus

I was in my kitchen doing some choreographed dance moves for Jesus.

Chris was gone, the girls were distracted by the TV, and I was just breaking it down to some worship music. In my head, here’s how the conversation went:

Me: *Dancing dancing dancing for Jesus.* This is it! This is what you meant by worshipping and praising you.

Jesus: Yep.

Me: *arms flailing about while singing and jigging* God, thank you for today. Thank you for the opportunity to do this.

Jesus: You’re welcome.

Me: *hard-to-watch dance moves that resemble a medical emergency*

Jesus: Okay, you can stop.

Me: *still breaking it down*

Jesus: No, really, we’re good. I get it.

Me: Jesus, this is your fault, you’re the one who didn’t give me any rhythm or coordination.

Jesus: You’re ruining this for me.

Me: You’re welcome.

You’d think I’m exaggerating, but I’m not. I have conversations with God exactly like that in my head all the time. I have conversations with people–all people–in my head constantly. It’s a gift, really. Sometimes I know my conversations are spirit-led and other times, I’m just entertaining myself and laughing with God.

If you’re thinking of emailing me to remind me to take my medicine, hear me out.

Aren’t we supposed to enjoy our God? Aren’t we supposed to invite him in to all parts of ourselves and our lives?

The answer is yes.

I enjoy God. I enjoy our relationship. I enjoy that he gave me a really weird sense of humor, and I think he enjoys it too.

I spend so much time bringing him my junk and stress and worries that I need to lighten up the mood every once in a while. Of course, he wants the hard stuff. He wants the pain and hurt and confusion. He welcomes it. He expects it. He asks for it. He can handle it.

But dang, that can be a pretty depressing relationship if all we do is bring him our downers. He wants the good stuff too. He wants the praise and the joy. He wants your laughter and excitement. He wants a dance party in the kitchen. He wants to celebrate with me too.

So I awkwardly dance for him in my kitchen. I laugh about my bad day. I giggle about a situation I unintentionally made awkward. I make sarcastic comments to him about things he’s teaching me that I’m fighting like a three year old at nap time.

We’re friends. I talk to him like a friend.

We’re friends. I show him all my best dance moves like a friend.

I know this sounds silly. I know I’m probably scaring a few of you, but I’m serious too. The Bible tells us that God delights in us, shouldn’t we delight in him too?

Praise the Lord.

Sing to the Lord a new song, his praise in the assembly of the saints.

Let Israel rejoice in their Maker; let the people of Zion be glad in their King.

Let them praise his name with dancing and make music to him with tambourine and harp.

For the Lord takes delight in his people; he crowns the humble with salvation.

Let the saints rejoice in this honor and sing for joy on their beds.

May the praise of God be in their mouths…

-Psalm 149 1-6a

It’s really easy for me to get caught up in the dark. To think things will never get better. To believe the worst about a situation. But I’m fighting that nature hard these days. I have to find things to praise him for. I have to find humor and laughter and light. I have to giggle when it feels too intense, and I have to dance in my kitchen when I’m tired and broken.

For his joy and for mine.