Jack Vetrriano paintings hang throughout my home. He seems captivated by scenes of people waltzing on a beach or embracing in a slow, moonlit dance. God has been using dance imagery in my life to paint a picture of what it might look like for me to abide in Him.
As a little girl, my friends and I regularly put on neighborhood "shows." We sang, danced, and acted out dramas with full costumes, makeup, and music. We even arranged a curtain that could be drawn just like on Broadway! I remember performing to Amy Grant songs while my dad looked through the camcorder toying with the idea of saving these tapes to show my future husband. With adult eyes, I now see the little girl dancing in front of the camera, fervently asking: "Am I worth watching? Do you like what you see? What do you think of me?"
My questions kept revealing themselves through each dance in my life. "Am I worth watching?" "Do you like what you see?" brought many hours in front of the bathroom mirror. These questions were met differently at my wedding dance. Following tradition, we had the father-daughter dance. I remember the deep love and acceptance from my dad's ever look, word, and gesture. There were nearly 300 people present, but during that dance it was just Dad and me. Everyone else faded into the background. I leaned in towards him. My dad answered my questions.
These images of dance paint a picture of abiding in Christ. As a little girl my aim in dancing was to get attention, to find out if I was accepted, and perform for others. Each dance held a set of questions about my value, worth, loveliness, and beauty. On my wedding day, my dance with my dad was not about those things. My dad's attention was already on me; I didn't need to grab for it. I was not questioning. I was not performing. I was resting in the loving relationship that we had established. In short, I felt loved and accepted, and for that moment, there was no fear of rejection.
My dance with my dad is a lasting image of what it is like to dance every day with my Heavenly Father. John 15 says, "Remain (abide) in me, and I will remain (abide) in you...I am the vine; you are the branches. If a man remains (abides) in me, and I in him, he will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing." Abiding in Christ is a full leaning into your dance partner, resting in His lead, and hearing His strong answers to your deepest questions.
It seems odd that abiding in Christ begins as a command. God commands us to abide in Christ. In wrestling through this concept of abiding, I have wondered how it is that God can command us to love Him. Is this egocentric of Him? Can anyone demand love? Having created us, God knows how we are made and He knows our desires more than we do. God knows the pain that accompanies a life lived apart from Him. He knows because He designed us to be connected to Him, the Vine.
He knows that Jesus is the only intimate dance partner who will not ultimately destroy us. Every other dance partner leads to death. Consider the trajectory of every possible dance that can govern our lives, and you will find they shoot off toward death. If I tango with alcohol too closely, it will destroy me If I polka with price, it will ruin me If I salsa with sin, it will take me out. There is no set formula. Abiding in Christ looks different for each of us.
Simply practicing the spiritual disciplines offers no guarantee of life transformation. We cannot transform ourselves. Romans 12:2 says, "Be transformed." We cannot do the transformation, we must be transformed, and this is something the Holy Spirit does. There have been periods where I have kept the discipline of silence without abiding at all. Solitude alone means nothing. That is the mystery of it all - spiritual transformation is ultimately a work of the Holy Spirit.
So, how, practically, do I stay connected to the Vine? One way I am learning to abide is to ask myself in any given activity, "Am I dancing for God or with God?" When dancing for God, the activity is really about me. I seek to gain approval, love, or even answers to questions. When dancing with God, I am resting in His love, acceptance, forgiveness, and allowing the Holy Spirit to work through me. There is no fear. I am not striving to perform. I may still be active, but my questions of self-worth are not at stake.
For this branch, the speed of my life affects the quality of my relationship with the Vine. As the speed of my life increases, my posture of abiding decreases. I attempt to force fruit to grow. So, rather than eliminate speed altogether, I seek out connection to the Vine. The Holy Spirit is the "connector." I take times of solitude to hand over my need for results to the Results Producer and find my rest in Him. With pen in hand I write out my prayers and listen to what God has to say to me. My journal is an ongoing prayer. I do not journal to record the day's events so much as I journal to remain in conversation with Him over the day's events.
Spiritual retreats are another practice I began last year to connect to the Vine. Once every few months I try to get away on an overnight by myself. During this time I do not take any projects. I go away for an extended time with Jesus. I take hikes, sit with my Bible and journal, and take a long nap. One time I saw a movie, and another time I went snow-shoeing. The activities are irrelevant; it is the aloneness with Him that reminds me of His presence.
A wild branch keeps growing out of me that needs constant pruning. This wild branch of internal frenzy causes me to cease abiding and to begin striving! I think, wrongly, that God is not prepared for this chaos, so I take matters into my own hands. I start scheming and trying to figure out life apart from the Holy Spirit. Speed takes over, and I run people over in my scheme to create order. Instead, I desire to be connected to the Vine in the still moments and in the chaotic moments.
Abiding in Christ is a lifelong journey of learning for the believer. I have only scratched the surface of experiencing this reality in my life. Abiding, to me, looks like a dance, except that it is dancing with Him and not for Him.
~ By Susie Grade
