Sacred Dance vs. Military March

My wife leads the Thanksgiving outreach of our church called: “Hands Across the City.” It provides meals for over 300 families by organizing volunteers of all ages, working with local service agencies to identify families in need, and collecting and delivering donated food. It sounds simple enough, but the effort is enormously complicated. Addresses are incorrect, certain people do not participate as I hoped they would, and the agendas clash as we all seek to be a church.  I find myself struggling between wanting everything to be neat and tidy and celebrating the messy work I wouldn’t trade for the world. In that way, the feelings I have each Thanksgiving are similar to the spiritual struggles I have throughout the year.

There are times I want my life of faith to be neat and tidy. I want to know what to believe, be able to point to particular words as if they were spelled-out instructions, and march with spiritual precision toward the life God intends. Those who have such a faith always make me envious of such certainty, but my experience is more like a sacred dance than military march.

I come to the relationship with God with gifts and talents as well as weaknesses and limitations. The dance is for two, and I come wanting to lead, as well as be lead. As I put my arms up to begin, I appreciate my willingness to show up. Twirling around, stumbling and stepping on toes, the dance is far from perfect, but somewhere in the imperfection is an encounter with grace and true life, one I wouldn’t trade for the world.

As I sit here, early on Thanksgiving morning, I am anticipating the gatherings ahead. I look forward to seeing family and friends. I would like things to go well - for the turkey to be hot by the time the potatoes are ready, the children to play football and not fight, and the conversations to be authentic and meaningful, not shallow and fake - but I know that, like the Thanksgiving outreach and my spiritual life, it will be far from perfect. Hopefully, I can dance within all the imperfection with the ones I love and the one who gave us life in the first place. If so, I will have no choice but to be profoundly thankful.