About a week
ago Stacey was sitting at the over-sized farm table in the kitchen with his
Bible opened in front of him. He was
reading from the book of Ephesians while texting or snapchatting or
instagraming and eating his second bowl of off brand Mini Wheats. As I walked into the room he said, ‘it’s a shame you ripped Ephesians out of
your Bible. There is some good stuff in
here!”
He’s right
about the good stuff: in six short
chapters, Paul uses the word grace twelve times and love 14 different times. He talks in a practical sense about life;
about grace and peace, wisdom and knowledge, trust and truth, hope and
promise. These are things I need to
filter through my mind on a regular basis.
He talks a little about Christian maturity and what behaviors we should
avoid. In the last of the book, Paul also reminds me who the enemy is and how I
am to equip myself to withstand against the enemy. Oh, it’s just packed with value!
But….in
Ephesians 5, Paul uses ‘the S word’…. you know? Submit. And that is why I ripped the entire book out
of my bible. I am not a ‘submit’ kind of
gal. Maybe you noticed.
I think I
can tell this without calling any names or making anyone mad. I am not one to ask permission. If I want to go to Walmart or the Goodwill
store or the Mall or to Vicksburg, Mississippi, for whatever reason, I simply
go. That doesn’t mean the communication
is missing. I don’t sneak out or call after I arrive to let someone know. It’s a conversation but I don’t need approval
or permission. It sounds as if I have
attitude about this. It almost sounds
like I am spitefully and willfully daring anyone to tell me I can’t do
something. That is far from the
truth. I just think, “I’m going to run
to Walmart,” is enough; I don’t feel even the slightest obligation to ask, “do
you mind if I run to Walmart?”
Calm down, Baptist!
I didn’t really remove anything from my bible. I assure you any tears, rips, or omissions
are completely unintentional and repaired to the best of my abilities once
noted. I wrote the above nonsense to
share with you my illustration of ‘submit’ as it is written in Ephesians 5:22.
If you
google such you will find that minds far more knowledgeable than mine have
likened submission to Roger Staubach and Tom Landry and lawnmowers with chocolate
syrup. All good stuff but I like to
think of submission as a dance. Not a
waltz or the floss, not the running man or the cotton-eyed Joe; but a two-step.
This past weekend
I was in Mexico with my friends from high school. Eight ladies of the 80’s plotted and planned
an adventure into the Gulf of Mexico hoping for sun and relaxation. As I was gathering my things and packing my
suitcase the Sunday morning of our return trip, I looked at my phone to see a
text from that guy I live with that read, “Does this sweater need a collared
shirt or is a T-shirt fine?” Attached to
it was a selfie of him standing in the door to the bathroom wearing a light
blue sweater over a T-shirt. Anyone that
knows me knows that I am not a fashionista or anywhere close. I am still wearing hand me down jeans from 3
styles ago. Unfortunately, I saw the
text too late to respond and I don’t know how he completed the ensemble before
heading to church that morning. This is
a man that can pull a combustion engine from a boat using a rope over a limb of
a shade tree in the backyard, tinker with it and put it back in and go skiing that
afternoon. He can calculate the cosine
and sine and whatever the other one is
and does for engaging self-enjoyment. (Side note: as he read that last
statement he fought the urge to tell me what ‘the other one is’.) He has APPs
on his smart phone to convert numbers and units and degrees. He is my go to for tips and tricks for
manipulating an excel spreadsheet. That
guy I live with is smart but he can’t decide how to wear this sweater to
church.
Some
thoughts on dancing:
1. No one pushed, pulled, or tricked me
onto the dance floor. I have been drug
to many events before but I willfully chose to stand with open arms before that
guy I live with.
2. We dance to the love songs. Think of the songs on your playlist. I have a variety of genres, artists and
tempos on my download list. I listen to
anything from The Statler Brothers and Freddy Fender to Katy Perry and MercyMe
but when I dance face to face with that guy I live with it’s going to be a love
song in a very traditional sense.
3. We don’t dance for you. I read recently (probably on Facebook)
“forget the ones who want to dance in clubs. Find one who’ll dance in the
kitchen to George Strait.” Our dancing is for us and the betterment of us and
that is the kind of dancing that happens in the kitchen or on the back porch or
around the Christmas tree; maybe.
4. He leads. I must admit, that guy I live with isn’t much
of a dancer. We have on occasion in our
earlier years together gone to the clubs and after some time in the shadows
managed to make our way onto the hardwood hand in hand. I know some will think I am being harsh but
he’s a counter and he doesn’t have a natural rhythm. It’s the engineer in him.
But he leads, facing forward and with great visibility he maneuvers through
others trying their skills on the sawdust.
And he counts, step, step, slide, step, step, slide…. sometimes he’s
only avoiding the obstacles around the kitchen table; Stacey’s shoes, Q’s toys,
Amazon boxes.
Where does
the submission come in? That’s my
part. Truthfully, I am not a dancer
either. One of my daughters-in-law can
twirl and spin around the dance floor with a skill level that they didn’t teach
in 4H camp. She has a polished swing
that is not only fun to watch but it’s intimidating. Funny thing is her skill is dependent on the
person leading; wouldn’t she look ridiculous doing all of that without a
partner? And while the lead is important
he would certainly look silly without her.
Submission is not a line dance or a pole dance. It’s a face to face, arms embraced movement
to the same song.
Two
important parts of the submission dance beyond choosing the right partner, the
right song, the right location and right reason:
1. Trust: I can’t dance with you if I am in constant
fear of trip hazards. When I find myself
looking over my shoulder I need to reevaluate my trust settings. Rear view mirrors are for Buicks not dance
floors. Confidence, trust, faith in the leader not because he demands it but
because he deserves it.
2. Skill: Submission is not a power struggle.
It’s one unit moving in the same direction, on the same mission, with the same
goals, yet different skills. I’m not to
be the leader but the leader can’t step, step, slide, step, step, slide
backwards in heels. It’s not a matter of
deficiency; it’s not his role.
I tend to
beat an analogy to death (also a skill) but one more thing: teach your kids to
dance.
