So You Know You Can’t Dance

I want to let you in on a poorly-kept secret.  I can’t dance.

There.  Now somebody besides, well, everybody who knows me is aware.

It’s a disappointment to my ballroom-longing wife.  It was a “you-can-get-over-it” point of conversation to my daughter when she planned her wedding reception.  I knew I couldn’t, but tried.  She insisted I would, and was grateful for the moment.  My tuxedo pants nearly fell off, and given the way the dance was going, that would have been a relief.

That said, good dancers fascinate me.  The skill.  The agility.  The confidence.  The creativity.  But dancing is one of those skills I have relegated to the pile items left off my blueprints.

There are others.  I’m no artist.  Lousy mechanic.  Painfully slow at organizing.  Don’t have a neat bone in my body.  Not particularly athletic.

I’m sure you have a list of your own – things that, whether you have accepted it or not, you’re not going to make the next reality show or who’s who in that category.

The question is, what do you do with that?  Hang up your dancing shoes?  Hire somebody to do it for you?  Spend a fortune on lessons, courses, or other self-improvement strategies?  Tell your boss you’re working hard on your weaknesses?  Live in denial, like so many American Idol auditioners?

Any or all of those things may be fine, if the weakness in question matters enough to you or somebody who’s important to you… OR if you just don’t care what somebody else thinks.

But for believers, there is another way to look at weakness.

In 1835 a man visited a doctor in Florence, Italy.  He was filled with anxiety and exhausted from lack of sleep.  He couldn’t eat, and he avoided his friends.  The doctor found that he was in prime physical condition.  Concluding that his patient needed to have a good time, the physician told him about a circus in town and its star performer, a clown named Grimaldi.  Night after night he had the people rolling in the aisles.

“You must go and see him,” the doctor advised.  “Grimaldi is the world’s funniest clown.  He’ll make you laugh and cure your sadness.”

“No, he can’t help me,” said the patient.  “You see, I am Grimaldi!”

It’s one of those ironies – a paradox of life in general, and a hidden truth of Kingdom life in particular.  Laughter flows out of pain.  Joy would be nonexistent without sorrow.  Grace wouldn’t exist if there were no need for it.  And what I lack becomes the basis for what I have to offer.

Are you financially strapped?  Plan on it:  When God goes looking for a cheerful giver, He’ll knock on your door first.  Ever hear of the widow’s mite?

Are you ready to hang it up?  Be prepared:  God may soon drop you squarely in front of somebody who needs a word of hope.  Hey Eeyore! Somebody’s noticing you.

“But what about my financial needs?” you ask.  “What about my need for encouragement?”

You don’t get it yet.  So let’s try again.

Are you wasted-tired, at the end of your energy or strength?  You can anticipate an opportunity to give some of your energy or strength to somebody else.  Saddle up, cowboy!  You’ve got a trail to blaze.

Are you anxious or depressed?  Joyless and sad?  You’re a prime target to bring a smile to somebody else.  Showtime, Grimaldi.

Yeah, I know, it’s not natural.  It’s supernatural.  It’s not logical, it’s spiritual.  God asks for what you don’t have to give so He can give it through you.  Then when you’ve given all, you will discover that what you lacked, you now have.

Huh?

Here’s how Paul put it:  Now I take limitations in stride, and with good cheer, these limitations that cut me down to size – abuse, accidents, opposition, bad breaks. I just let Christ take over! And so the weaker I get, the stronger I become. (2 Corinthians 12:10, The Message)

The principle here is that God doesn’t use us in spite of our weakness – He uses us because of them.  God uses weak people so that His power may be conspicuously displayed in their lives. And the reverse is also true:  most Christians who are useless to God are useless for the very reason that they are so talented.

Next time you go counting your blessings, look deeper.  You may be surprised at what you find when you look through a different lens.

And the next time you feel like a one legged man or one-armed woman who’s been called out to a dance floor, remember – the weaker you get, the stronger you become.

Tagged as: Dancing, Giving, Limitations, Power of God, Weaknesses