I do not dance. Most people who know me at least know that. Unfortunately, the little girls at Love in Action did not know this about me when I suggested that we celebrate one of our last evenings together. They innocently insisted that I join them on the roof-top where they intended to teach me some traditional Indian dancing. I explained that my body is not capable of such things... that someone might get hurt... that dancing is not Christian... that no human should ever be so undignified.
Thankfully, it was late enough at night that there was very little light shed on my complete loss of dignity. I could not turn down twenty orphan girls. It was humiliating, it was ugly, and it was dangerous for those who got too close. The girls were overtaken by laughter as they watched me hop and stumble and bow and twirl and kick and... hell... I don't know what I was doing. We all stopped to catch our breath after each song--the girls were laughing too hard, I was simply out of shape.
But ultimately, I believe this experience was one of the more beautiful of my many lovely experiences in India. The beauty was in forgetting myself; it was a rare moment when I was totally free from my pride.
That night we celebrated God: the One who saves us from evil, hunger, poverty, and ourselves.
5 comments:
so what you're saying is that you are going to have indian dancing at your wedding?
love this post buddy. made me smile really big.
i'm still offended that you just called dancing unchristian.
saving us from ourselves...thank God for that.
tight buddy. wish i could have seen it though.
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