I Will Dance in the Presence of the Lord

I'm not naturally a dancer. I don't move easily. I'm self-conscious about how I look, what people might think, whether I'm doing it "right." And for a long time, that self-consciousness carried over into worship. On Sundays I usually keep my praise quite "contained" and my favorite way to worship is on my own.

But then I think about David. The king of Israel, dancing before God with all his might as the ark returned to Jerusalem. Leaping and celebrating with such abandon that his wife was embarrassed. And when she confronted him, David's response was essentially: I don't care what you think. This is for God, not for you.

There's something about joy that can't always be contained in stillness. Sometimes worship needs to move. Not because God requires it, but because the gladness in our hearts demands more than words. It needs expression, physical, unrestrained, without reservation.

Miriam understood this. After crossing the Red Sea, after witnessing God's deliverance, she didn't just sing, she danced. And the women followed her, celebrating with tambourines and movement because standing still didn't match what they felt.

I'm learning that worship isn't just about reverence and solemnity. Sometimes it's about joy that overflows. About letting praise move from my heart to my feet. About caring more what God thinks than what anyone around me might say.

This doesn't mean I have to dance every time I worship. But it does mean I shouldn't let self-consciousness keep me from expressing joy when it wells up. God is worthy of worship that holds nothing back, even if that worship moves.