I want to dance in the lion’s den! I want to dance in the lion’s den! I want to dance in the lion’s den! — Tanner, age 4 1/2, singing at the top of his lungs
It isn’t surprising, really. I have been studying Daniel in my weekly Bible study. We had Daniel in our school curriculum. And the boys have been learning about Daniel in Sunday School. I am not sure what triggered Tanner’s song, but he was gustily singing it for several minutes.
Because of all this emphasis on Daniel in our house lately, I have been thinking a lot about the lion’s den.
I have often felt like I am there. Single parenting stinks some days. Having grief as my companion stinks some days. Having all the household chores and the running people to and fro from soccer to guitar to AWANA to play dates stinks some days.
But am I in the lions’ den, really?
Daniel, an eighty year old man, was looking into the teeth of lions as he was tossed downward. He knew if he followed God he was going there — down into a pit full of hungry lions.
Even so, he did not waver in his devotion to God.
Can I say the same about me?
Some days, sure. I am “in the zone” and can say that God and I could tackle anything life could throw at me. Bring it on! My God is bigger!
Some days, not so much.
I am burdened by the things of this life in a way that I don’t want to be — and that God doesn’t want me to be.
How do I let go of that? How do I stay so focused that I am not scared, even when looking at teeth and claws on the way down?
Lesson from a four-year old: dance!
Sometimes that means turning on the praise music and actually turning about the room. The boys are often right there with me, and we sing and twirl and act goofy until we all are breathless and laughing, happy to be serving our God again.
Sometimes it means reading Psalms quietly in my room and dancing in my mind.
Sometimes, I admit, it means picturing myself twirling in Keith’s arms again. That one usually makes me smile as well, because, as great a guy as he was, the man could not dance.
Sometimes it means putting my feet on my Father’s, holding on tight and dreaming of some day. When I was a girl, these dances with my earthly dad had me dreaming of being a grown-up lady and dancing with a groom. Now, I dream of a different Groom, and that dancing will be glorious.
Now the lions don’t look so bad; the drop down the hole does not look so deep.
Not bad theology, kid! Keep it up!
Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider Him who endured such opposition from sinful men, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart. — Hebrews 12:2-3