I’m re-reading Real Christians
Don’t Dance for the umpteenth time as a part of my daily devotions for the umpteenth time. Yesterday I declared my fandom of John Fisher yet again, and yesterday in my daily devotions I was hit by this from Real Christians Don’t Dance:
“So here I am. I’ve figured out what these clothes mean—and don’t mean—and I’ve managed with some difficulty, to get myself dressed and out onto the dance floor. But would you believe it, halfway into the first number some jerk cuts in on me?
“Standing once again along the wall of the gymnasium, where I’ve stood before for different reasons, now licking the wounds of my damaged ego, I inquire as to the name of this intruder, and I find out his name is Life. They tell me he often cuts in on dancers. They also say that when he cuts in, he always cuts deep, so deep that it’s almost as if you have been cut in two and one part is left staring at the other, both open and vulnerable. They say this knife can go all the way to the dividing of soul and spirit, joints and marrow, and that it can even judge the thoughts and attitudes of the heart.” p. 81.
Life sure has a way of cutting in when we are dancing our butts off, right? I love that visual picture.
As we learned yesterday, He’s the same; and it’s still life.
I choose to live this life bravely remembering my lessons I learned from living in Overwhelmed Land. Life may cut in, but I’m ready! God’s still the same and He is close to me. God never abandons and always invites me into this dance.
p.s. I wish this was a picture of John and I. But John doesn’t dance. Ever. He says musicians don’t have to dance.
p.s.s. Real Christians
Don’t Dance has been out of print for a long time. And it is not always easy to buy a used copy. But for some reason, you can read a free version of it here.