Dancing with Jesus

I recently listened to a talk from Father Mike Schmitz where he talked about receptivity to faith. He first referred to Mary and how willing she was to move when God said to do so but also noted that she was willing to yield. She was receptive of whatever the ask was from God. He went on to share that being receptive to our faith is like dancing. Typically, the male leads and the partner will follow. It is not forced or domineering, but receptive. The partner makes a response based on the lead given. Together, the duo can move quickly or slowly. Similarly, we must be receptive to God. We must be able to receive what He asks of us in the same way Mary did with her fiat. We must also be willing to yield so God can lead. By doing so, we are submitting to Him. We understand His way is better, knowing He wants good things for us and will lead us on a fruitful path. We must wait for His action, then respond appropriately.

As I reflect on that analogy, I ask myself, “Am I receptive to God? Do I wait for His move?” The honest answer is sometimes. Sometimes, I’m fully surrendered and stay close to Him in prayer and the sacraments. Sometimes, I listen dearly for Him through scripture or whisperings. That receptivity led me to be a foster parent and to travel to Mozambique in troubling times. Both occasions stretched me and were far from easy, but I responded – I acted – in the manner I felt God was calling. But other times – often – I am not as receptive. I fight for control of both small and large situations. I want to know the plan. I want to know where He is leading me. I get impatient and try to run on anyway; I refuse to yield, I forget to listen. I begin wandering and stray further from prayer and the sacraments. I forget to sit still.

Generally, I forget to be receptive when life gets stressful and I’m overwhelmed. I forget to invite Jesus into the situation and, similarly, forget to listen for the path forward. Instead, I forge my own path. Ultimately, I am humbled by my humanness and crawl back to Him. Like a puppy with its tail between its legs who realized its wrongdoing and slowly approaches its master – that is how I whimper back to Jesus, sorry I didn’t cling to Him in the first place, for forgetting to be obedient. Sorry that I was blinded by temporary satisfaction or control. Sorry that I tried to lead instead of follow. But each time, Jesus welcomes me back with open arms. He fills me with wisdom and grace and love. He whispers to me in the chapel and early morning readings. He gently guides my heart and opens it to hear His word. He puts an ask on my heart, sometimes a big one, that I wrestle with for quite some time. Asks I cannot deny. Asks that scare me, stretch me, purify me. “Disciple, not master,” I remind myself. Follow His lead. In these times, when I remember to follow, when I stay close to the sacraments, prayer, fasting, and almsgiving, it is then that I am receptive. It is then that I act. It is then that I start dancing with Jesus. I begin to feel Him move, and I respond. I feel Him pause, and I yield. We become melded together; we become one. Sometimes, we move around swiftly – the pace is quick, and I must be incredibly attentive. Other times, we move slowly and dramatically. It is here I must truly listen, not overreact, and lean into my partner to be ready for the next movement without jumping the gun. I must blindly follow.

Take a minute to reflect on your current dance with Jesus. Are you overpowering Him by trying to lead and be in control? Or are you staying attentive, awaiting His move? As we pray, reflect on the areas of your life He is asking you to lean in.

Let’s pray:
Jesus, as I begin a new day, I pray for receptivity to you. For the ability to wait patiently for your lead – to lean in, listen, and stay close. I have come to do your will and know you are always one step ahead of me in the dance of life. You know where I am headed; provide me the courage to respond to your lead by following graciously. Let me continually step toward you with every action. Let us dance together. Amen.