Our Journey

Philippians 2:5, “Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus.”

“Becoming like Christ is like learning to dance with Jesus,” our pastor said yesterday, comparing this transformation to learning ballroom dancing.

At first you show up and the instructor points out the footprints pasted to the floor. And you dutifully place your feet on top of the cutout feed, simply hoping you won’t stumble too badly or embarrass yourself. Slowly you learn a little confidence, you lose some of the awkwardness, and eventually you can glimpse up from the floor long enough to catch your partner’s eyes – and apologize for stepping on his feet.

And just when you think you’re making progress, the instructor turns on the music. Now you can hear the rhythm for which the steps were created. You can see other couples dancing around the room, in perfect time to the music. The music seems to draw them through the steps, but the same music somehow hinders you or makes you feel inadequate. But you persist week after week to place your feet on the marks, to listen to the music at home and in the car. And one day you show up, take a deep breath and decide to trust in your partner fully, to follow his lead. You look into his eyes and lock your gaze. And somehow you know this time will be different.

I have been placing my feet in the footprints of discipleship for quite a while. I have studied theology. I have gone to spiritual direction. I have committed to Covenant Discipleship. I have participated in a faithful worshiping community. I have read inspiring books and learned from faithful people. But until now I have been reticent to lift my eyes from my own feet to the Partner who leads the dance.

I have been bitter that my M.Div did not result in ordination. I have been frustrated that spiritual direction provided no clear answers. I have been annoyed that I pursued a good path with no clear direction. I have felt selfish to have a Stephen Minister. I saw the practice as an end in itself. I could not see it as preparation for the dance.

But this fall, as I participate in The Way of Discernment I have been given a new lens through which to see my journey. Marjorie Thompson says that “discernment comes to us as gift, pure and simple… We pray for deeper understanding. We wait. We struggle. We search. Then, aha! Understanding comes. Perhaps it flares forth suddenly. Perhaps it emerges with the slow, growing radiance of the morning sun… It arrives as a treasure, and we rejoice at its appearance… Through prayerfulness, waiting, struggle, and resting in the unknown, we have been formed. We are not the same as before. All this too is gift…

Discernment is both effort and grace, method and fruit, verb and noun.”

Discernment is this dance with Jesus. Now I can see the grace of God working through my efforts and the fruit of the Spirit that blossomed from the method. As a good Wesleyan, I should not be naive of this process or surprised by the result. So now I long to dance in Malawi. The music will surely be different, but I am sure of my steps and unafraid to raise my eyes and look to Jesus to guide me.