King David danced before the Lord with all his might, and was misunderstood for it. Some kinds of joy refuse to stay still. This sonnet celebrates the moment when the soul gives up its careful composure and simply moves — knowing it is seen, and loved.
The Sonnet
There comes a moment when the heart will rise Beyond what dignity would have it do, When joy unsettles all our practiced lies And makes us move in ways we never knew. The careful posture falls; the measured tread Becomes a step, and then a turning round, And what we held within the watchful head Now finds itself expressed in shameless sound. Let those who watch suppose I have gone mad — The dancing soul has learned a deeper truth: That worship is the wildest gladness had, And love does not concern itself with proof. I dance before the One who set me free, And know He laughs with joy to dance with me.
Reflection
There is a kind of gladness too large to be contained by the dignified body. David knew it, and stripped down his royal robes to dance. Mary knew it, and broke open a year’s wages of perfume on the feet of Jesus. The early church knew it, and was accused of being drunk before nine in the morning.
We have made our worship orderly, and there are reasons for that — reverence has its place. But the gospel keeps insisting that the deepest response to grace is not composure but joy, and joy, when it is honest, eventually moves. It claps. It sings. It cannot be still. To dance before God is not undignified; it is the proper response to having been seen and loved beyond what we ever dared hope.
May joy find your feet today. May you forget for a moment to be careful, and simply move toward the One whose delight it is to see you free.
