By Sandy Kirby Quandt
Last Saturday, Pilot and I succeeded in doing something we tried, and failed, to do when we moved to Texas fourteen and a half years ago…Texas Two Step.
Yes, I know. Not that significant to some, but to me? Very. Let me tell you about it, and hopefully, by the end of this post you’ll see a connection you can apply to your own life, whether you ever move your feet to dance, or not.
Growing up, I was one of those fortunate enough to have a musical father who loved to dance.
Often times, my father held my hands and sashayed me around the room. He was not one of those who allowed his daughters to stand on his shoes, however. Dad was patient in teaching me to dance. He felt it important for me to follow his lead by the subtle pressure of his fingertips on my back, especially when the song was Glen Miller’s “In the Mood” and I was ready to quit before the song finished.
When we moved to Texas one of the first school events Pilot and I attended was the dance…where of course it was assumed everyone knew the Two Step. When I was placed on the stage — literally — because my students loved me so much and clapped the loudest, or wanted to embarrass me the most, to dance the Macarena, I did okay. Pilot and I danced that at UCF football games much to Pie’s horror as he watched from the press box. But the Two Step? Never heard of it.
For the uninitiated, here is what Wikipedia says, “The two-step is a partner dance, consisting of a “leader” (traditionally a man) and a “follower” (traditionally a woman). The leader determines the movements and patterns of the pair as they move around the dance floor. It is a progressive dance that proceeds counterclockwise around the floor.”
I wasn’t real keen on being pushed around the cafeteria backwards, thank you very much. I like to see where I’m going. Pilot might add, I also like to be in charge of where I’m going.
So that first attempt at the Two Step was not what I would call pleasant. I’d rather dance the Ma-ca-re-na.
Moving forward in time to the wedding reception last Saturday night.
Before the wedding party arrived at the reception a group gathered to learn how to dance the two step. Pilot and I watched from our seats before we decided to approach the group for a better look. Some on the dance floor obviously knew what they were doing. Others fell more into Pilot and my category…had no clue.
Wouldn’t you know it, just when we gathered enough courage to make fools of ourselves, the lessons stopped.
After dinner we resolved to give the Two Step a chance. It did not help when Pilot said, “Remember…you have broken your hip.” Such an encourager. I wanted to tell him I hoped he wasn’t planning on pulling me to the ground like Bear had when I fell last year, but figured to just smile sweetly.
We decided not to enter the circle of dancers next to the ones who knew what they were doing. We slid in next to the ones who were struggling. Maybe that would help us look good?
The music was pretty slow, so not too difficult. It was actually fun. It took a while before I realized I was digging my nails into Pilot’s right shoulder, and decided to relax a bit. Feeling overly confident, we decided to try a twirl. Not a good idea, so we stuck to Pilot pushing me around counter-clockwise.
Tri-ple-step. Pause. Tri-ple step. Pause. (Pilot had to remind me about the Pause.)
Then the music changed. It got faster.
Alabama’s “If You’re Gonna Play in Texas”…
When the song ended, Pilot and I decided it was time to gather our things, tell the bride and groom good-bye, and make our way to the car.
Here’s the lesson I learned. When you dance, someone has to lead. Someone has to follow. Hopefully, the one leading knows what he/she is doing.
Just as my dad wanted me to learn to follow him by paying attention to his gentle touch on my back, Jesus wants us to follow him. Sometimes, the pressure he applies is subtle and if we aren’t paying attention, we might miss it. Other times the pressure is intense.
When I first attempted to learn the Two Step fourteen years ago, I resisted Pilot’s attempts to lead. It was not enjoyable for either of us. When I allowed him to push me backwards, counter-clockwise around the dance floor last Saturday, things went smoother.
When we allow Jesus to lead us, even if it means getting pushed backward, counter-clockwise through life, things will go more smoothly than if we keep insisting on leading.
Anyone else find it difficult to be pushed around backwards?
I’d love to hear your thoughts on the subject. Leave a comment below. If you think others would appreciate reading this please share it through the social media buttons.
When he brings all his sheep out, he goes ahead of them, and they follow him because they know his voice. John 10:4 (NCV)
I wish you well.
Please sign up to receive posts every Sunday, Tuesday and Thursday. Thanks!