May I Have This Dance?

An Invitation to Trust, Surrender, and Follow His Lead

“We love because he first loved us.” — 1 John 4:19 (ESV)

Imagine standing at the edge of a dance floor. The music is playing, couples are moving gracefully together, and you find yourself watching from the sidelines. Perhaps you don't know the steps, or you're afraid of stumbling or looking foolish. Maybe you've danced before, only to discover that the person leading wasn't someone you could trust.

Then someone approaches, extends His hand, and gently asks, “May I have this dance?”

What if that invitation came from God?

We often think of our relationship with God in terms of seeking Him, reaching for Him, or asking Him to guide our lives, but Scripture reminds us that His love came first.

Before we knew how to follow, He loved us. Before we understood what surrender meant, He invited us into relationship with Him. His invitation was never dependent upon our ability to perform perfectly.

This is where the dance begins.

For many little girls, learning to dance with their father becomes a treasured memory. She is too small to understand the rhythm or remember the steps, so he invites her to stand on his feet. She places her little hands in his, looks up into his face, and allows him to guide her across the floor. She doesn't worry about which foot moves first or anticipate every turn. She knows her father. His love has given her a sense of security, and his consistent care has taught her that he can be trusted. So she rests her feet upon his and allows him to lead.

As she grows, she begins to dance with him rather than upon his feet. She learns to recognize his movements, respond to his direction, and discover the joy of moving in sync. Her confidence grows, not because she has mastered every possible step, but because she has come to know and trust the one leading her.

Isn't that a beautiful picture of our relationship with God?

Proverbs 3:5–6 encourages us to trust in the Lord with all our hearts rather than lean upon our own understanding. Yet trusting God doesn't always come naturally. We like to know where we're going, how long the journey will take, and what might happen along the way. We want to anticipate the next step. Sometimes we even try to lead.

But surrender isn't about having every question answered before we begin. It is about trusting the One who knows what we cannot see. We don't have to know the steps to accept the invitation. We learn them by following His lead.

Surrender is sometimes mistaken for defeat, as though giving control to God means abandoning our hopes, our desires, or our ability to make choices. But biblical surrender is not passive resignation. It is the willing decision to trust God with our lives and respond to His leading. Like learning to dance, surrender develops through relationship. At first, we may hold tightly to our own plans. We hesitate when the direction changes. We resist movements that feel unfamiliar. Yet as we come to know God's character, we begin to recognize His faithfulness, seek His wisdom, and trust Him with what we cannot see. We become more willing to follow even when we stumble.

Our surrender comes in waves. There are moments when trusting God feels natural and others when fear, impatience, or uncertainty makes us want to take the lead again. But God is patient as we grow. Surrender doesn't mean we stop participating. It means we stop insisting on leading.

Every dance has its own rhythm. Some are slow and gentle, like a waltz. Others are lively and exuberant, like a two-step or a spirited Louisiana zydeco.

Life is much the same. There are seasons filled with celebration, when gratitude seems to overflow from our hearts. There are quiet seasons of reflection, difficult seasons of waiting, and sorrowful seasons when we can barely find the words to pray. The music changes, and so do our movements. Our need to trust God remains. This is where surrender and worship meet.

We often associate worship with music, and rightly so. Scripture is filled with songs of praise, instruments, dancing, and expressions of joy. David danced before the Lord, the psalmists poured out their hearts in both celebration and lament, and generations of believers have lifted their voices in worship. Yet worship is not confined to a particular melody, tempo, or musical tradition. 

The style doesn't determine the sincerity.

A quiet hymn can express profound devotion; so can an exuberant song of praise. A whispered prayer may be as sincere as a joyful shout. 

The intensity doesn't measure the intimacy.

Romans 12:1 reminds us that offering our lives to God is itself an act of worship. When we surrender our plans, seek His direction, obey His Word, or trust Him through uncertainty, we are offering something beyond a song. We are offering ourselves. Surrender is a form of worship. Worship is a form of surrender. Together, they become powerful expressions of our faith. The music may change, but worship can continue through every season of the dance.

Of course, there are times when we decide to dance on our own. Perhaps we become confident in our abilities and forget how much we need God's guidance. Our impatience convinces us that His timing is too slow, or possibly fear leads us to pull away when the next step feels uncertain.

We choose our own rhythm, our own direction, and our own way. Sometimes we don't even realize how far we've wandered until we find ourselves standing alone, wondering how we arrived there. But here's something beautiful about God's faithfulness: The invitation never changes. We do. 

In Jesus' parable of the prodigal son, the younger son leaves his father's home and follows his own desires. His choices bring painful consequences, but when he returns, his father welcomes him with compassion. The son's wandering mattered. His choices mattered. And his return mattered. Yet the father's love had not disappeared.

Our willingness to surrender may change, but God's character does not. When we recognize that we've wandered, we can turn toward Him again in repentance and trust.

The next dance may be different. The music may be unfamiliar, and we may carry lessons learned along the way. But we need not remain on the sidelines because we stumbled before. His invitation still calls us to return.

It’s common to watch from the edge of the dance floor. We see others expressing their faith with confidence and wonder why trusting God seems so much easier for them. Is it because we’re afraid of making mistakes?  Maybe we believe we need to understand Scripture better, become more disciplined, or resolve every uncertainty before we can truly follow Him. Have we been hurt, disappointed, or frightened by what surrender might require? Have we become more comfortable watching others dance? 

Jesus says in Matthew 11:28, “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest” (ESV). His invitation is not reserved for those who have mastered the steps. It is extended to those who are weary, uncertain, and in need of Him. The dance begins with an invitation, not an audition. We don't have to imitate someone else's expression of faith or pretend that surrender comes easily. We can come to Him as we are, willing to learn. 

Trust grows through relationship, and surrender becomes a continuing response to the One who loved us first.

Perhaps the most beautiful thing about this picture is that the invitation doesn't end after one song. Through every changing season, we continue learning to trust the One who loved us first. His invitation remains, even when we need to learn the steps all over again. 

Imagine, once more, the little girl standing at the edge of the dance floor. Her father approaches and extends his hand. She doesn't know what song will play next. She doesn't know where the steps will take her. But she knows who is asking, so she reaches for his hand.

“May I have this dance?”

The invitation is His. The response is ours.

Previous
Previous

Nothing New Under the Sun

Next
Next

While the coffee brews…