King David famously danced before God in his underwear (ephod – check it out – it’s really his underclothing), much to the shame of his wife (and she paid for that shame, trust me).
The psalms exhort us to dance our praises to God.
Ecclesiastes reminds us (think the Birds song here) that there is a time to dance.
The celebration of the Exodus people after safely traversing the parted sea, led by Miriam, took the form of music and dance.
All of that biblical witness leaves me wondering when my tradition (Presbyterian) took off our dancing shoes, especially this morning.
Listening to the local radio station while getting breakfast, Pastor Shirley Caesar burst forth into my kitchen with her feet-must-dance belting of Satan, We’re Gonna Tear Your Kingdom Down. And I did what I had to do – I stopped all else and danced to the Lord. Right there in my kitchen. Right there in front of God (well, that sort of was the point).
It is good when morning prayers look like dance.