And Then There Was Dancing

She’d been waiting for her path to cross with a life-long lover since I met her. She’d been living in the ache of desire—to be chosen, delighted in, longing to enjoy shared love with a husband. She’d chosen to lean into the ache of unmet longing, to embrace the emptiness—allowing God to expand her soul in that emptiness and fill her with more of Him. She had held in tension the reality that Jesus is the One who was meant to satisfy her, but that He designed her with a holy longing to be married to another—together bearing the image of God. She’d lived in this posture—risking, tasting, losing love, waiting, hoping, hope deferred, wondering. It was her personal advent that lasted many long years. She had leaned into that long season of waiting with raw beauty. 

I had been blessed to wait with her, wonder with her, cry with her, pray with her, ache with her. 

AND THEN THERE WAS DANCING

Last weekend, our family was able to celebrate with Virginia as she and her beloved Abraham sealed their love through vows to commit to dying to themselves for the others’ sake until they see Jesus face-to-face and will be fully fulfilled in Him! It was a very good day. 

Dallas Willard writes this about the spiritual discipline of celebration,

Here is one of the most important disciplines of engagement, yet most overlooked and misunderstood. It is the completion of worship, for it dwells on the greatness of God as shown in his goodness to us. We engage in celebration when we enjoy ourselves, our life, our world, in conjunction with our faith and confidence in God’s greatness, beauty, and goodness.

Virginia’s and Abraham’s wedding celebration felt like a completion of worship and did we ever enjoy ourselves as we partied in the middle of this Advent season. The timing of their wedding seems fitting to be placed right in the center of Advent. 

Like any other spiritual practice, celebration requires a choice to invest the energy to do it. In this season of Corona and cultural tensions, celebration provides a stark contrast to the consequences of living in a fallen world.

The very act of celebrating anchors us in a deeper story-—one that precedes any current hardship or pain. God’s narrative goes back to the Garden where He formed us from the dust and called us into loving relationship with each other and with Him. It continued when Jesus became flesh and assumed all of our sin and brokenness so that we could enjoy fellowship with the Trinity. It will culminate in, yes, a celebration—the wedding feast of Christ with His bride, the Church.—Relevant Magazine

In many ways, much of 2020 has felt like a long season of advent. Waiting—being emptied of the ways and means we’ve employed to help reduce the pang of the ache of living in a fractured world. Yet, ever so close resides a waiting God—aching to bring restoration in all of its glorious fullness. Aching to celebrate with us. Aching to be with us. As we wait, let there be much celebrating!

“There is a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance.” (Ecclesiastes. 3:4)