I remember when I was growing up that polka music was part of family life. We woke up to polkas every weekend morning (no sleeping in for us), because my Dad always turned the volume up pretty loud to serve as an alarm clock. Polkas had fun lyrics for kids (and the kid within), like “You can’t dance the polka with beans in your ears,” or “Hoo-pie Shoo-pie, Donna,” or “Now’s the time to roll the barrel for the gang’s all here.” I have to admit that I have developed “ear worms” from lyrics and tempo like that (much to Jerry’s chagrin!).
With all that said, the very best time of all for polka music was at weddings. My Dad could dance around the floor with the best of them. It was a special moment when he took me out on the dance floor with him. We twirled and spun so fast I would get dizzy, but I never tripped or missed a step, because I was either standing on Daddy’s shoes or flying with my feet off the floor. I think every kid would love that–laughing and feeling safe in Daddy’s arms.
I think in this example my Dad was a lot like my heavenly Father–they both liked to lead the dance. When Father God leads, we learn to lean into Him; we learn to trust. He has us; He will never let us go; He knows the next dance step in our life, and I am pretty sure it is not as predictable as one-two-three, one-two-three. It’s more like it is one-two-three, two-five-one, nine-six-eight, three-seven-five. You get the picture. For God is only predictable and constant in His nature, His love, His heart; but He is totally unpredictable in His ways. So then, it becomes imperative in our lives to surrender to His lead; to lean fully into Him, trusting Him, depending on Him–becoming once again like a child who trusts her Daddy in the dance.
Father, take my hand. You are the Lord of the Dance. Lead me through today and help me lean into You and trust You again tomorrow. I surrender my self-reliance and my independence, and I exchange it for dependence on You. Help me learn that leaning on You is the only position I need. Take me places where my feet never touch the floor, and let me find myself, once again, dancing on my Daddy’s shoes. Amen.
A Personal Note . . . My Dad is 90 years old today. Happy Birthday Dad, and thanks for the dance!
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