November 12, 2012 by Kara Nichols
Dancing was forbidden when I was growing up and I never got into the club scene. What I’m trying to say is that I have no moves.
But this weekend I was told that I am to dance, dance, dance for Jesus. I laughed. “Who me?” I thought. Yes, me.
So I revived an odd habit that started last year during a manic episode: dancing in the dark, outside under the stars, in my pjs, singing to Jesus.
Some of you may frown on the fact that I was listening to Britney Spears’ song Till the World Ends. I mean, who praises Jesus with secular music? This girl. And I’ll be honest that last year when I was dancing outside in the dark I thought it was the end of the world. I was preparing for death on earth and life in heaven. That topic comes up every time I’m manic. The end of the world, and me trying to warn the world.
But life without dancing? It’s no wonder that I’ve been bored to death in church over the years. The dancing that I saw this past weekend was so radical. Life changing. I think slowly but surely I will get comfortable in my body enough to dance in front of others, but for now I have an audience of 1. Jesus Christ. And I know He loves it. I know He loves me. I am His beloved.
Then shall the young women rejoice in the dance, and the young men and the old shall be merry. I will turn their mourning into joy; I will comfort them, and give them gladness for sorrow.