You turned my wailing into dancing; you removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy, that my heart may sing your praises and not be silent. Lord my God, I will praise you forever. Ps. 30:11–12
Lord Jesus, King David, the author of this Psalm, once danced with all his might and very little modesty, so great was his joy. (2 Sam. 6:14). Perhaps his joy was so great before God, because his sin was so real, and his despair so deep.
Those same dancing feet took him into adultery with Bathsheba; and running from the murderous plots of King Saul, and his own son, Absalom. Great need, great grace, and great joy go hand in hand.
Jesus, you are the true Lord of the Dance—the one who turns our wailing into dancing (metaphorically and literally). How can we not sing and make music to you in our hearts? How can we possibly remain silent and still in response to who you are and everything you’ve done for us?
Even if we’ve never acted out like David, cause us to hear the Father speaking to us today: “Son (or daughter), you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours” (Luke 15:31). Forgive us when, like the elder brother, we remain smugly off the dance floor, in our self-righteousness, chilled affection for you, and Gospel-amnesia (Luke 15:25).
We have SO much to be, and stay, grateful for. One Day, Jesus, we too will give you thanks with all our might. May that coming Day have much greater impact on this day. Teach us to dance, even in this pandemic—even in this election year. So very Amen we pray, in your grace-full and gladsome name.
