Recently, I have found myself dancing. Not dancing in any way or form that would resemble that of twerking, but rather with dance moves resembling a person whom has actually yet to learn the requisite dance moves. Where the usual dance floor that I was once so accustomed to was lit with strobe lights, sticky from spilled drinks and stomped on with little to no reverence to the people who’d have to clean up the next day, the new dance floor that I have felt God had led me on has been filled with a different genre of music, lit with a lot more hope than certainty, and the floors are painted with flower petals (just for a cool, serene effect). I love this new dance floor, and I’ve found myself dancing with many different ‘suitors’ such as hope, faith, promise and courage. My least favourite ‘suitor’ would be ‘disappointment’, which is a metaphorical suitor that almost everyone, regardless of his or her journey or stance in life will face at one stage or another.
One of the inevitable emotions that any and every person can attest to enduring at some stage in life is disappointment. That feeling that adorns you like a cold wind disturbing your warm skin, like that cloud that you see making it’s way on your perfectly blue sky, like the rain on your parade after you spent hours dancing with all of the aforementioned suitors dressed in colourful cheer. I have yet to meet anyone who embraces disappointment in their lives as if it’s a welcome guest, because more often than not, disappointment doesn’t knock on the doors of our hearts, but it rather barges in and leaves a trail of mud on the carpets. The issue doesn’t lie in the fact that it exists at all, but rather that more often than not, the mess it leaves that can be so difficult to rub off back into non-existence, and if it remains an entertained guest in our lives, disappointment can actually live within us.
I can’t tell you how many times I have been disappointed in my life, which is partly a good thing because it means that disappointment hasn’t been deeply ingrained in my life, however I can attest to the fact that many disappointments have come whenever I anticipated the exact opposite emotion: contentment. High expectations and slightly unattainable aspirations can often lead to disappointment, but I’ve also found that ironically, God places an abundance of disappointments within us, all to be endured before He blesses us with whatever He had already been promising us. For most of my life, I grew up believing disappointments in life equated to failure, and thus proof that nothing fruitful was to come from that area in my life. The older I’ve gotten, the more I’ve begun to see that God not only works in mysterious ways, but the journey he paves has the right amount of disappointments in our lives, steering us away from the wrong-turns and ultimately bringing us to where we probably were meant to be in the first place.
I’ve come to realise that dancing with disappointment, as Amanda Cook describes it in ‘Heroes’, doesn’t need to be a morbid dance, filled with the most melancholic music that you ever did hear. It might not resemble the victorious dance you anticipated when you pursued something that you hold dear to your heart, or even God-given dream, but it still can be one of the most beautiful dance you can ever emulate on the dance floor.
With nothing less than the faith being the light representative of a strobe light on the dance floor, and God being the DJ, I just might open my heart to the opportunity to dance with disappointment if ever, or whenever it inevitably asks for my hand, for the sole purpose of learning a new dance move or two, as opposed to side-stepping this (un)invited suitor out of the fear of being out-danced.