Quickstep

I’m going to let you in on a little secret: I think swing dancing is a lot of fun. I’ve never been good at it, but it didn’t really depend on me. As long as the guy knew what he was doing, all I had to do was hit the rock step and hang on for the ride. One of my friends was especially fun to dance with. He had a little hip-hop thing going on, so dancing with him was almost as fun as California Screamin’ at Disney’s California Adventure. [This is no secret: I like fast rides. ] Besides swing, we also tried our hand (and feet) at other ballroom dances: waltz, quickstep, even salsa. The waltz was nice, but the faster-paced dances were especially entertaining. None of it really stuck, but it was fun while it lasted and a hilarious form of group exercise, mostly ab-work from all the laughing. I wouldn’t give up my solitary runs for it, but dancing was a nice occasional alternative for a workout…the faster the song, the better.

As the pace of life accelerates, it gets harder to find the rhythm. That all-important rock step is ignored for the sake of making the next move. I’ve noticed I’ve been less grace-full, easily irritated, and missing important details. Words come out a little more pointed, and tone of voice is a little more harsh. It’s a terrible testimony of a wonderful God. I’m watching the 2004 Westernized version of Shall We Dance as I write this, and it’s convicting to see myself more in the aspiring but heartless dancer than in the gracious and more compassionate instructor. Rushing toward the next goal leaves little space for kindness.

James advises us to be “quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to get angry.”¹ The pattern is quick-slow-slow. My secret default is slow-quick-quick. I can usually pass for calm and steady, but sometimes I’m more than a little frustrated and discouraged underneath. Instead of laughing, I’m suppressing a strange urge to scream. It’s not a deception as much as it is an effort to maintain unity and peace, but the heart problem remains the same: slow to listen, quick to speak, and quick to get angry. That’s not exactly the quickstep I should try to master.

When things get in the way of speeding toward the master plan, James reminds us to slow down and guard against anger. Even if things aren’t going well, anger is never a remedy in God’s sight. Unfortunately, there is no other way to learn this except through practical experience. It’s a little reminiscent of those painful hours learning the slower romantic period pieces for annual piano tests when I’d rather speed through the faster tempo songs. It’s a long process, but I’ve been learning how to slow down throughout the day and find solid footing on my Rock. No matter how often that happens, the time to jump back in will inevitably come. In the meantime, who knows? I might even learn to enjoy playing the slower music.

He set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand.
He put a new song in my mouth, a hymn of praise to our God.
Many will see and fear and put their trust in the LORD.
Psalm 40.2b-3

1. James 1.19 [↩]