By David Ryser
This life is a dance, not a battle. (Kate Constable)
I was minding my own business,
teaching at a school of ministry. The
students were hungry for God, loved Jesus with pure hearts, and were eager for
the Word and the Presence of God. In
order to be able to “feed” them properly with the instruction and demonstration
of the Kingdom of
God, I would arrive early
(1½ to 2 hours early), put on worship music, and bask in the presence of
God. By the time class began, both I and
the atmosphere in the classroom were prepared for the students and for anything
God wanted to teach and/or do that day.
As the class session progressed, the spiritual hunger of the students
would place a demand upon the anointing and presence of God until, at the end
of each class, I felt like a milk cow who had just fed 23 calves. I was drained! If I didn’t fill back up spiritually, the
next day’s “nursing” was going to be painful (please don’t make me explain this
metaphor). I needed to come up with a plan
of action to refill and recharge between class days, and the little time I
spent with God in the mornings was not going to be enough.
Then I hit upon a plan--a plan born
more out of desperation and self-preservation than any inherent spirituality on
my part.
Because I was serving the school of
ministry on a volunteer basis (this was, after all, a church-sponsored school),
it was necessary for me to work a full time job after classes ended at
noon. I took a job as a courier, which
consisted mainly of driving around in my little pickup truck and making
occasional stops to load and unload stuff.
Since there were places on my circuit that involved an hour or more of
uninterrupted driving time, I had the opportunity to hang out with God and
refresh my spirit by worshiping and conversing with Him. As with my morning “God time,” I would use
worship music recorded on CD’s to facilitate getting into in His presence and
“filling up” spiritually. Over the next
few months, I discovered God was not particularly concerned about the style of
music I worshiped to, so long as it glorified Him and was sung from a pure
heart (mine as well as the artists’--I don’t use much music from the big name
Christian entertainers). I very much
enjoyed spending time with God every day in this manner, and before long into
these times of worship I would begin to be rejuvenated spiritually. By the end of my work day, I was prepared for
a good night’s sleep and the start of another day beginning with morning
worship time at the school.
Several months passed.
As much as I loved the students and
enjoyed being with them each day, I looked forward even more to my daily
afternoon and evening time with God. This
was heaven for me. I had never before
worked at a job where I was paid to worship God and soak in His presence (I was
in the vocational ministry for 14 years, and no church ever paid me to worship
God). One day, when the worship was just
beginning to get good--after about two or three hours (real intimacy takes
time)--the CD I was listening to came to an end. Normally I would simply choose another CD and
continue hanging out (referred to as “praying without ceasing” in the Bible)
with God. Usually He would let me choose
the music I thought might best bring me into His presence. That day, for no
particular reason, I asked God, “What would You like to hear next?” I felt directed to put on a particular CD,
and the worship time continued. Toward
the end of the CD, the song In Your
Presence began to play. Within a few
moments, the presence of God intensified in the cab of that truck; and as the
song continued to play, I became increasingly lovesick for God.
By the time that song was over,
every fiber of my being ached for Him.
What a sight I must have been--a
middle aged man, tongue-hanging-out in love with Jesus, singing to Him with
tears in my eyes, and going 70 miles per hour down the freeway. As wonderful as this short time with God had
been, I was somewhat relieved as the song began to end because of the intensity
and intimacy of the experience of His presence.
But this wasn’t the end. Not
today. The next song on the CD was Dance With Me, based upon a passage from
the Song of Solomon. As the song began
to play, I knew I was in trouble. God’s
presence became stronger, and I heard these words deep down in my spirit,
“Would you like to dance?” Though the
words had not been in an audible voice, they were so strong inside of me that I
answered out loud.
What else could I say? I said, “I’d love to.”
The best things and the worst
things that have ever happened to me in life have happened just after I spoke
without thinking. So why do I continue
to do it? Because the best things are so
much better than the bad things are bad, and I’m willing to take the chance. I will not describe what happened next in the
cab of that little truck other than to say that my loving Heavenly Father is a
really good dancer. And when that song
ended, I was not the same person as I was when it began.
I had gone beyond His presence and
into His heart. How could I be the same
afterward?
Everything changed. When I read the Bible, I saw the scriptures
from a different point of view than I ever had before. Every verse dripped with the love of God. I began to understand in a way I never had
before that our faith is based in a relationship with God, through Jesus, and
not in agreement with a creed or doctrinal statement. I came to believe and know that truth is a
Person--Jesus Christ--and not a theology or a book (any book). I began to
examine my motives for why I did the things I did, and I’m talking about the
good things. For example, why did I
raise my hands in worship? Because the
Bible said to do it? The Bible does tell
us to raise our hands in worship, but that’s not why I do it. When a two year old child toddles over to you
and puts his hands in the air, why does he do it? Because he wants to be picked up and
held. That is why I now raise my hands
in worship. As a consequence, I get
picked up and held a lot by my Daddy.
And I pretty much have Him to
myself because, sadly, so few of His beloved children want just to sit in His
lap and love Him.
As time has passed, I’ve discovered
that I have a deeper love for the children of God--even (maybe especially) the “bad” ones. I can sense (and sometimes see) their pain
and despair, and I just want to take them into the presence of their loving Father God
who can minister His love, healing, and salvation to them (the word salvation, as used in the Bible, rarely--if ever--refers to going to heaven). Conversely,
I have very little tolerance for the religious system that abuses, robs,
oppresses, enslaves, and torments them.
My anger with, and my utter disdain for, this system is such that I must
exercise a great deal of self-control when I encounter it or talk and write
about it.
I guess I need for God to do some
more work on me.
I now have an unrelenting passion
for God and His Kingdom. I am learning
to love people in the same way as I love Him, as hard as that can be sometimes
(and I am very much a work in progress in this regard). I have learned to seek the face of God rather than settle for His hands. Not that I don’t need Him to move powerfully
in my life or in the lives of others; but I’ve discovered that if I can find
His face, His hands are somewhere in the neighborhood, and I simply can’t
settle for just His hands when I can have both.
I have gladly (most of the time) suffered the loss of ministry,
position, and reputation to gain Him (Philippians 3:7). I am not complaining; I willingly chose this path
when it was presented to me.
As painful as this has been on
occasion, I would not trade Him for anything or anyone.
I’m no one special. God does not love me any more or less than He
loves anyone else. He does not enjoy my
company any more or less than He would enjoy yours. He freely receives and accepts all who come
to Him. And His dance card is not yet
filled.
Would you like to dance?
Responses to this article are
welcomed. You may contact the author at drdave1545@yahoo.com
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