Dance of Friendship

He urged them to plead for mercy from the God of heaven concerning this mystery… Daniel 2:18

When Daniel and a few others were young men, the Babylonians took God’s people captive. Yet, these young men were intelligent with impressive skills. They were invited to enter into the service of the king (Nebuchadnezzar).

One night, Nebuchadnezzar had a bad dream and summoned a myriad of wise men to interpret it. He was so distraught that he threatened their lives, demanding details of his unspoken dream, so that none would simply “make up an interpretation.”

A commander of the king’s guard went to Daniel to explain the situation. Daniel, in turn, went to his friends (whose lives were also in danger) and, as the verse says, he “urged them to plead to God for mercy.” Daniel wanted to storm the gates of Heaven in behalf of all their lives.

Today’s verse moves me towards an appreciation of our Father’s provision of friends during times we need urgent prayers. He gives us a community of like-minded people to share our lives, seek our Father and not be so alone in our trials.

Daniel urged them to plead with God.

When I plead with my husband for something, I don’t come across with arrogant demands or assuming I’ll get what I ask for. There is no entitlement of spirit. There is simply a humble request made with sincere passion.

Daniel and his men didn’t come to God in hastiness, stomping there feet for His attention (even though, I’m sure they were desperate). They came in humility. They came with one mind and heart for one purpose: to ask God to give Daniel wisdom from on high.

There are times in my life in which I don’t feel impressive, wise, intelligent or skillful. In fact, I may feel so inadequate in my work that my steps seem to haltingly go forward.

The other day I saw a video of a few beautiful young girls in a ballet recital. One of the girls was my granddaughter. My eyes brimmed with tears as I watched (knowing how timid and shy she was; also, knowing the physical obstacles she’s had to overcome). At first, all I saw was the grace and poise she presented. Then, she began to falter and hesitate and look back to see if what she was doing was in sync with the others. Yet, she went forward in the dance, not seeming to let anything distract her. At the 3 minute mark in the video, she suddenly became free, and like following some inner voice, her beautiful, radiance came through as she flew across the stage. By the end, I was a slobbery mess of tears.

“She is me!” I gasped.

My granddaughter, though floundering at times, was fully involved in the dance, fully participating in life!

Later, I was told that at the 3 minute mark, the girls were instructed to dance freestyle. No wonder, she leapt in such joy and beauty.

When I think about the way God made ME, such an introvert and yet so packed full of His impossible plans and ideas, I wonder how I will ever have what it takes on this earth to even remotely come near what He calls me to do. His power and might astound me. The words that come out of my mouth, at times, feel awkward and clumsy, but God uses my weak vessel and comes alive in me when I join the dance, especially so, when I lose myself in the moments of freestyle, completely keeping my eyes on Him alone.

My granddaughter taught me many things as I watched her recital. My approval doesn’t come from people, it comes from God and His will for my life.

The last thing I learned as I watched the video was how inclusive this group was. No one was turned away for their stumbling lack of skill. Each held value. Each had a place. Each brought a beauty of their own. Each would have been missed if they had been absent.

God places friends in our lives to compliment our dance with Him. Sometimes, these friends or family members will be awkward, they will falter and mess up, …and WE will embrace them.

Together, we will plead to the Father in behalf of our trials and missteps. We will join hands and learn to freestyle as one in God’s Kingdom. He is the true King. I am thankful that God never turns us away from His presence because of our faltering steps. In fact, He embraces us just as we are. He awaits to see us let go of our fears and trepidation. He awaits to see us fly!

My thoughts brought back memories of a poem I wrote many years ago, and today I would like to dedicate it to a dear friend who recently passed into the presence of God having lived her life to the fullest:

I Want to Live!

Lord, let me live, waking in the morning surrounded by birdsong,
And falling on my face to beg you for mercy for the new day.
Let me remember how short my moments are…
That my joy spreads like wildfire in a forest, just as quickly as my miseries;
…So you can show Your splendor in my frailty.
When I would rather not, show me how to open my mouth,
And even blunder to the point of apologies or hurt.
But when it’s over, I’ll have lived and learned instead of hiding in the shadows,
Too afraid to venture out to where I feel something different than safe…
…Safe…Yet death is more than just passing from this life.
It can swallow ME, the me you meant to be, while I’m still alive.
In the mornings, when I walk, exercising this betraying body of mine
With fierce vigor and strength, to gain what I can….
…Squeezing one more drop of life into these ever failing human limbs….
…Oh, let me live, even sick in body or mind…
That I may see your wonders performed…
Too great for myself to comprehend or understand.
Let me notice your ocean-sounding trees.
Amid turmoil that threatens my very breath.
I want to live, and breathe in life, and give out life to those you send my way.
Help me, Lord, that I never forget what breath you gave away for my sake.
So that my life would be full and not void of love and living.
…To know laughter, all ever-surpassing joy in my soul.
Let me live now in the sweet surrender of dying to all I hold dear,
Even my own life or the clinging to others for myself.
And when my time comes to leave this world, is it possible to yet live as I die?
Can my dying be so alive with your presence that in my last breath
Others are even more infused with your glorious life?
“Let me live!” I shout from mountains high. And so, I do.