You can understand and relate to most people better if you look at them — no matter how old or impressive they may be — as if they are children. For most of us never really grow up or mature all that much — we simply grow taller. O, to be sure, we laugh less and play less and wear uncomfortable disguises like adults, but beneath the costume is the child we always are, whose needs are simple, whose daily life is still best described by fairy tales.

- Leo Rosten

 

This Saturday I went to a dance recital for one of my friends. It was adorable and fun to watch the smallest preschoolers bumble and tiptoe around the stage in oversized flowery tutus in their version of a ballet. One group in particular did not have it together in the least and was awkwardly balanced by six or seven tall, lanky girls and two much shorter boys. They only came up to some of the girls’ waists, and one of them could have made a spot-on Elvis impression had the dance number called for it.  This team scooted around the stage, flailing arms and tapping feet, all dressed in neon purple and flashy headbands. Needless to say, their hip hop-flavored jazz performance brought smiles to everyone watching.

I don’t know what it is about watching children dance. Whether orchestrated and adult-assisted or purely spontaneous, there is just something so joyful and carefree about a child dancing.

This past winter when Step Up 2 debuted in theatres around the country, my mom and I were sitting in the parking lot outside our local theatre after seeing another film. Suddenly three teenage girls – probably somewhere between fifteen and seventeen – emerged from the exit and, without warning, began to strut and flail to an unheard beat. After a couple of spins and leg lifts, the lead girl threw her head back and finished off by rushing to her car. From our perspective, this was pretty hilarious, and then we remembered Step Up being out, and then the performance made so much sense.

For me personally, I have always been drawn to dance although I have about as much talent as a tutu-ed hippopotomus. There is something magical about it, and whenever I -to this day- see someone dancing well, I am sucked in and instantly wishing I was twirling around like them. I can remember watching ice skating on TV with my mom and then flying through the kitchen in socked feet, feigning a weakly choreographed impression of the pretty Asian girl at that year’s Olympic games. And even now I just love spinning around in a long A-line dress. It’s so childlike and close enough to flying that I can’t resist.

Thank God I get to be a youth leader where I can dance around with my girls there during worship. Those are some of the best moments of my life I think.

So, when I found Leo Rosten’s quote, I inwardly sighed with contentment; I was relieved to hear that I really am not required to grow up and that somehow, no matter how much I might try, I can never fully lose the ribbons and cotton candy silliness of my childhood. It defines me -and everybody- and I don’t think anyone ever really wants to lose that innocence and playfulness they had at six or seven years old. Who ever decided we had to grow up in the first place?

This dance recital helped save my life I think, because it reminded me of all these things. Of how God looks at us always as children who need Him. Of how we can live in that free spirit spinning energy of a six year old even if we are trapped in a much older body.

For example,  I attended a womens’ conference last week, and there were plenty of opportunities to praise the Lord with dance – many of which ushered in the Spirit so thickly that I could have sworn for a moment or two that I had been transported to heaven’s throne room. At one point towards the end of the conference, to the beat and hums of an African worship choir, women everywhere broke out in dance, young and old, regardless of age or ability. It was positively beautiful!

One lady in particular, short and slightly hunched over, with curly grey hair and shoes of soft leather, came shuffle-hopping down one of the aisles toward my friend and I as we spun and jumped. She was so sweet and excited, and for a moment we got to dance with her.

In the stuffy outside world, this would have seemed utterly ridiculous and maybe even sounds campy to those who have never experienced this. But to us it came right out of heaven and was just so much fun!!! God bless that lady and everyone like her who cares little for the opinions of man and vows in her heart to worship God in spirit and in truth.

I want to dance more. Not caring. Not looking at other people. Not being too grown up to move. To dance, just the way these adorable, ill-balanced children danced. For the sheer fun of it and nothing more. Lord, let our religious “adult disguises” fall off and let us come to You like little children!