could I have this dance (for the rest of my life)

(For the Enterprise's bridal insert.)

When I was girl, I wanted to learn how to dance.  My parents were not in favor.  Wickedness.  Worldliness.  “Until you’re married.” Mom remarked over dishes one night.  “Then you may dance with your husband as much as you’d like.”

 I snuck into our high school’s homecoming dance when I was a sophomore.  There my parents’ prohibition clicked.  Jesus taught that looking and lusting were adultery.  Surely the wiggling and grinding of the mob in the middle of that dimly-lit gymnasium violated the seventh commandment as well.

The mass chaos of that high school dance was not what I had in mind when I twirled around the linoleum as a little girl.  It’s not what Elisabeth Elliot had in mind when she penned the following to her daughter, either:

You can’t talk about the idea of equality and the idea of self-giving in the same breath.  You can talk about partnership, but it is the partnership of the dance.  If two people agree to dance together they agree to give and take, one to lead and one to follow.  This is what a dance is.  Insistence that both lead means there won’t be any dance.  It is the woman’s delighted yielding to the man’s lead that gives him freedom.  It is the man’s willingness to take the lead that gives her freedom.  Acceptance of their respective positions frees them both and whirls them into joy (Let Me Be a Woman).

Marriage is like the waltz.  It’s exclusive: one man and one woman.  The husband lovingly leads.  The lady cheerfully submits to his direction.  Their careful movements and clearly defined roles mirror a heavenly mystery.

                In contrast, our world approaches sexuality more like a homecoming dance.  Insist that God created the man to protect and provide and the woman to respond and serve?  Gasp!  How old-fashioned!  How demeaning!  Or, where have you been?  The rules of the dance have been re-defined.  There are new steps.  New music.  And switch partners whenever you’d like.  As a matter of fact, there really are no rules...except don’t make any rules.

The result?  Broken hearts.  Broken homes.  STDs.  Unwanted pregnancies.  Abortions.  Filthiness.  Sin.  Instead of the waltz people promote a mosh pit and then stand around scratching their heads in wonder at everyone getting hurt.  Many in the U.S. attempt to erase the idea of gender differences altogether.  Our tax dollars fund Planned Parenthood’s sex-ed program, which advertises “It’s only natural” and “Safe sex is meant to be shared.”  Homosexuality is accepted, lauded.  Co-habiting, divorce, and weekend “hook-ups” are the norm.  Porn has not only made its way into every nook and cranny of the Internet – books like “Fifty Shades of Gray” line the checkout aisles of nearly every grocery store. 

When I consider the way our world attempts to re-define God’s rules for sexuality I can’t help but think of Hans Christian Andersen’s story “The Emperor’s New Clothes.”  The smallest child is able to point out what’s wrong in our society.  A toddler could tell you that being a “boy” or a “girl” defines how he or she thinks and plays.  Kids would laugh if there were two Prince Charmings on the dance floor and no Cinderella, or if Cinderella was doing the leading and PC the twirling. I overheard our kindergartner tell his sister yesterday, “Peregrine Falcons mate for life, Leah.”  “Yeah, swans do to!” she exclaimed.  “Isn’t that strange, Will?  Some birds are better at being married than people are!”  Ask a child whose Dad has left his mom and siblings what he thinks of this “new normal.”  Or the girl whose un-wed mom brings home one boyfriend after another.  They may not say it, but they know.  This is no “new normal.”  It’s abnormal.  The emperor’s got nothing on.  And the mainstream watches it all unfold with a smug nod of approval.

Are you a married Christian or a Christian about to be married?  Take heart.  Our God carefully choreographed this waltz.  In fact, He’s its Creator.  Refer to the instruction manual He’s given daily.  Remember that mastering marriage requires repetition.  You can’t sit out for even part of this dance - once you write your name on your spouse’s card, you’re committed - to your partner, for life.  And to practicing.  For life.  The steps don’t change.  They might get a little slower, a little sweeter, with time.  But still the same steps.  The leading.  And the following.  The loving, and submitting.  Self-giving, forgiving, and faithfulness in the small things, and the big things, all danced to the sweet strains of friendship.

Your marriage will be enhanced by the knowledge that the two of you together glorify God in a way that you couldn't if there was only one of you.  And it will be admired and imitated, Lord willing, by the little ones watching, who benefit in untold measures from your faithfulness to one another as they await their turn.

So remember your role.  Commit to repeating the steps.

Insistence on doing it any other way means there won’t be any dance.