Vickie Conde
Everyday My Teacher comes to me and stretches out His Hands. He is asking me to join into His wonderful dance. The hands that knit each child together, hands that were nailed to the cross are the same hands that reach out to me every morning. He asks,
“Shall we dance today”?
The dance between My Teacher and I have different steps. He always is the Lead. He is powerful and kind. Purposeful and gentle depending what He wants to teach me. When I was younger I believed it was all about how good I was at dancing. This meant simply following the motions of another person. The better I copied someone else the better I was at dancing. It was about being a mimic, a perfect copier nothing about relationship.
The old way of dancing was performing repetition. That was good in the beginning then as I learned there were times when I could make up my own steps. I knew the basics and those steps could be used to make up new dances.
The focus was always on my talent and me. The old steps became boring. They needed to be spiced up. I wanted to do more. This is when the problems began. As I tried new things the old steps were not as “cool”, so I broke some of the old rules. Leaving the repetitiousness behind it didn’t seem all that exciting anymore. I wanted more teachers and new and more creative dance moves. I didn't think I needed the practice the same old stuff over and over again. In that arrogance is the very place where I begin to get hurt and hurt others.
My Teacher allowed me time to experiment with this new dance. It was like getting all the dance steps right but forgetting to look into my Teachers’ eyes seeking to please my Teacher. I learned to look to see how many others were copying me. That seemed to be the important part, right? It became more important to have others watch me, than my Teacher. I grew tired of the old boring routine so I began to try "cooler things". My Teacher knew there’d be a time when I would come looking for Him once again. Slowly I tired of the dance . I wanted to quit dancing altogether it wasn’t fun anymore. So little by little I quit dancing. Life began to lose it color. It began to fade into gray. No hope, no excitement, always watching for someone else who had the joy and passion that I did in the beginning.
Did I still love dancing? I missed my lessons, I missed my Teacher. I longed to start over again but that couldn’t happen now I used my turn, now wasn’t too late for me? I was old. No one would be interested in teaching an old person something they’ve been taught before. How did I get so far away from the thing I loved the most? How did I lose interest in learning more steps? What was I thinking? How could I have forgotten where the dance class was or where to find my teacher? Slowly by myself in secret I began with the basic steps, a little at a time. Sometimes I would get excited and remember how good I had felt when I was in Dance class and my Teacher was watching. It seemed I was His favorite. He would show me things all the time that He didn’t show everyone else. Now I didn’t even now where to look for Him. How could I have lost interest in Him it was my first passion, my first love? It was sad. When I looked at my other friends who had teachers too now they seemed to have lost their teachers too. How I wanted to go back to the beginning but I didn’t know how to get there.
But My Teacher had a plan. He made all things new. Little by little I continued to dance the same familiar steps over and over and I would remember a little more. The difference this time was I was fully aware of the preciousness of the dance. I wanted to go back and go forward. I learned new the dance was about The Teacher and relationship with Him. He knew all the perfect moves and knew how to teach them to me. There was a huge difference this time. He wanted my full attention focused on Him. He wanted me to quit looking in the mirror and look deeply into His eyes without looking away a whole new way of dancing.
This new dance with My Teacher it requires so much more. To know the dance is important but much more important is following Him. He requires that I quit looking at myself, and look deeply into His Eyes all the time. His hands gently move and direct me to the next step we will make. If I listen I can hear the words He is singing over me. If I forget and look down or step on His feet He will correct me gently ever reminding me it is about ‘our relationship of love not perfect dance moves. Again and again He reminds me to keep my eyes focused on Him. His desire is that I learn His ways so closely that it takes very little from Him to turn me left or right. He teaches me how to “understand” His lead. He wants the intimacy between us to be so profound that He hardly has to do anything for me to understand what He wants me to do.
In this “new dance” there is so much beauty. It requires me to come to Him everyday, growing more and more familiar with His touch, His Voice, and His Movements. Each day I study the Words He has written and I respond to His teaching better and better. Some days the dance is soft and gentle, some days it is fast and loud. Each day requires my complete attention. At times He dips me without much warning requiring I trust Him completely withholding nothing. Other times He spins me quickly and my eyes look away long enough to go around and then reconnect with His. The hardest dance is when He wants me to spin repeatedly without holding on to Him knowing that He is watching intently, He always knows when to grab me back into His embrace. I no longer worry about what others think of our dance now my only concern is what He is concerned about. This is my dance. It is an all day and night experience. The last thing I think of before sleep captures me and the first thought upon waking are on the hands that are waiting and reaching out waiting for me.
My teacher is always looking for my response to look directly back at Him with reverence, awe, sweet surrender without holding anything back. Allowing myself to be fully inspected by my Teacher, ready at any moment knowing that He could do anything He wanted. Yet trusting Him beyond understanding that no matter what He does it is the best thing for me. He has perfect wisdom, knowing all things, yet knowing that when He stares at me He loves the intimacy of our hearts beating in rhythm more than anything else. This is what He is looking for. A student that has a heart that is willing to be open to Him. A heart that is tender, willing to come to Him for healing a when it gets broken, a heart that isn’t covered with shame or shies away with an ungodly fear.
He is a Teacher looking for the student who is willing to be taught. A Father, A Groom, And A Teacher He is all and all. He has planned out all the lessons, known all the subjects, and covered everything I would need to know in the Dance with Him. He has planned the most amazing event and wants us to be ready when He presents us as His prized student, His best dancer, His favorite, His prepared, and His treasured one.
My Teacher, He has chosen my gown, He is My Groom I am His bride, He has chosen the linen covering Himself. He has picked out the righteous covering, knowing full well if we chose our own robes it would probably look like someone else’s. His desire is not that we “fit” in, but to stand out.
When this dance begins I want to be fully prepared, dressed and ready to come to Him at His bidding. He has prepared everything in advance for us. He has done it out of love. This is the dance of my life, “The Dance with My Teacher”.