Praise and Worship


She danced before the mercy seat gracefully performing for the Holy One.  He watched her with great pleasure, not at the beauty of her movements or the wind her body created causing her unblemished gown to flow and glide with every twirl and twist; His pleasure was in what was to become of her. Naturally, it was a beautiful dance.  Her feet bounced and tapped at every beat.  Her arms displayed the beauty of the music that surrounded the atmosphere.  Outwardly, she gave Him her apparently flawless performance, working hard to please Him with her dance of praise.

But inwardly, her heart moaned.  She felt inadequate in His presence.  She saw His splendor piercing her through her peripheral vision as her body tasked itself to please Him with a flawless dance.  She wanted to show Him her love and allegiance through this deliberate, preconceived, rehearsed, and perfectly timed performance of devotion to Him.  Then He would see.  Then He would know.  He has everything.  All of her.  Her heart softly whispered to Him, See how hard I’ve worked for you?  See how I’ve practiced my steps for your pleasure?  See how my body memorized these steps to entertain You?

He just watched, waiting…

One, two, three, four….repeat

One, two,three, four….repeat

She delighted in the flawlessness of her praise.  One, two, three…. NO! 

The pain of the misstep was severe.  On her knees she fell, left ankle throbbing, music still blaring. The King watching intently.

Jesus!  Jesus! She screamed out. Jesus. My praise! My King.  I wanted to delight you! I wanted to praise you! I wanted to show you my love for you!

He turned His eyes from her.  His eyes turned downward.

She read disappointment.  She read failure.  He is displeased. 

Unable to walk, she crawled to Him. On her hands and knees she crawled. Her tears wet the floor as she eased her way towards Him.

It was as if every wound in her heart paralyzed her body.  Every scar removed, every bandage unwrapped, all medicine flushed.  She was raw and exposed.  The consequence of feigned and failed perfection coupled with the realization that her sins splattered out across the floor. He can’t see me like this. 

Oh but He did.

She edged to Him.  Hands shaking to grasp Him at His feet. Her hands edged their way up, gripping his ankles. She opened her eyes and looked straight through the holes in His feet. Reaching down to touch the wound, she realized she had caused his foot to become dirty. She began to wipe away the stain from His skin. The more she wiped, the more stained He became. She wiped harder, and He began to bleed! Oh Jesus! I’m sorry!  I’ve caused you to bleed. 

He reached down and touched her head. “Rise up. Come to me.”

She lifted herself off the floor and reached into His embrace.

…and they danced.