A Dance With the Devil

"FOR SIN WILL HAVE NO DOMINION OVER YOU, SINCE YOU ARE NOT UNDER THE LAW BUT UNDER GRACE" - Romans 6:14

I was standing awkwardly against the wall when I noticed him first. There was something striking about him, something particularly alluring. As if he sensed my gaze, he slowly turned and caught my eye. Embarrassed that he had seen my less-than-discreet attempt at staring, I looked down at my feet, where it was safe. The music was blaring loudly, pumping its bass until the beat matched the racing hearts of the dancers on the floor. Eccentric lights pulsed around them, a flashy array of colors that begged to be met with the whirlwind of feet. Standing against the wall, I was vulnerable, my guard was down, and it was as if it was these thoughts and insecurities were feeding the footsteps that walked towards me. I looked up from my feet to see who belonged to the pair of legs that had joined me, and found myself looking into the face of the handsome young man. Tall, steady, and with piercing dark eyes, I had to assemble my fumbled thoughts into my attempt at a suave greeting. “Hi.” I heard myself softly say, although I was inwardly surprised that my mouth could function at all. His eyes were the most intriguing thing about him. They were dark, and as calculatingly cold as they were beautiful. I didn’t know what he was seeing through them, but I knew that in his eyes I sensed a captivating kind of danger that sent shivers of thrill up my spine. “May I have this dance?” He whispered in my ear, and I felt my knees weaken. Part of me felt warning lights go off, begged me to refuse, but my weak desire compelled me to accept.

The first dance. The last. It sealed my fate with a twirl and a dip, and all my senses were ensnared. As he lightly took hold of my waist and reached for my hand, I felt sparks. We had been predestined to dance this dance. He took the first step forward, I took mine back, and the dance began. He led flawlessly, stepping perfectly in time to the rhythm of the music. My usually clumsy self was effortlessly gliding, almost in an ironic grace across the floor. I felt as if we were the only people in the room as he matched his gaze with mine, and I was delighted to find my feet light. He began to spin me around, and although I was beginning to feel dizzy, he always caught me in his arms. I was safe, untouchable. He remained cautiously respectful as we paced the wooden floor lightly, drawing me in with his charm. Then the song ended.

Another song began to play. My eyes averted, he cupped my chin in his hands and softly inquired, “Would it be selfish of me to have another?” Pleased that he would bother asking, and hyperaware of his closeness, I nodded. Some of the previous awkwardness evaporating, he pulled me closer in and held me in his arms. Instead of sweeping over the floor, we swayed back and forth. Whoever this man was, he certainly did not beat around the bush. Although I was in the arms of a stranger, I was content and I found myself enjoying the attention rather than obeying the concern that was ceaselessly pleading with me in the back of my mind. He pressed his lips to my neck, and I found my heart beating in irregularly fast beats. I pulled away, momentarily too shocked to let myself be enticed. Noticing my discomfort, he murmured “I’m sorry. I’ll behave.” My mind forged two reactions to his words. One of relief, and one of bitter disappointment. Would I allow my innocence to deprive me this newfound satisfaction? Against my better judgement, and half unbelieving that I allowed myself to do so, I pressed my lips against his, and bade his promise to behave as unnecessary. The final notes tinkled away.

“I need a ladies moment.” I told him, and he coyly winked and released me. “I’ll be waiting.” he replied, and I realized that he fully expected me to return. Foolishly, I realized he was right. Something about him couldn’t keep me away. I ran into the seclusion of the ladies room and propped myself up on the sink. I knew things were going too fast, but I didn’t want to stop them, though everything inside me screamed against it. I turned the tap slowly, gazing into the mirror, and brought the cool water to my face. Then I squared my shoulders, and marched back out of the ladies room. In my haste on my way out, I bumped into another young man. He was nothing extraordinary in appearance, but had a soft way about him. He seemed to exude calmness, and he chuckled. “Save me a dance!” He hollered over his shoulder as the crowd pushed him past me.

I returned to the dance floor, my worries unappeased. There he stood, magnificently, just as he said he would. My concern dissolved as his charm seemed to overcome the uneasiness that had flooded me while I had been away from his gaze. He held out his hand and I took it, cautiously excited. The beat had quickened, the music pulsing once again, and I found him moving against my body, closer than I was comfortable with. What I did not expect was my discomfort to feel so good. Ignoring my conscience, I followed his movements, never seeming to get as close as I would like. When the song had ended, we were both out of breath. I was unsatisfied. The temporary pleasure that had coursed through me was gone too abruptly.

“May I cut in?” said the man I had nearly bulldozed just moments earlier. I felt heat swiftly rise to my cheeks, and found myself hoping he had not seen the way I’d just been dancing. Somehow, his presence made me embarrassed, for the erotic way in which I had displayed myself had suddenly become something that I no longer wanted anyone to see. These eyes were light and warm, crinkling at the edges as he smiled, and I couldn’t care to even glance at the other man, who now stood cooly beside us, watching our exchange. As I took the hand of the victim of my clumsiness, I was whisked away to an emptier fringe of the dance floor, but not before I caught the eyes of the bolder man. His dark eyes burned, and he stiffly grabbed the waist of the nearest girl to him, pulling her close. Hurt, I turned my gaze.

Dancing with this man was slightly more difficult. He was less inclined to lead, only doing so when I wasn’t inventing my own beat. I had to concentrate on the rhythm, counting in my head, until finally my steps moved in time to his. I found dancing with him less intoxicating, I could think clearly, and I knew I was enjoying myself. Every once in a while, I would tromp on a toe, and he would chuckle and patiently wait while I found the rhythm once more. He held me gently, and I felt comfortable. Nothing was demanded of me but myself. Even in my clumsy and awkward way, he accepted me. All too soon, the song ended, and the enchantingly dangerous man returned.

“May I be the one to cut in this time?” He asked smoothly, his voice thin. My current partner released me. “Ladies choice.” He replied. I liked that he was giving me the option, and, still stinging from my first partner's rash actions in finding a new partner all too quickly, I smiled at them both, and turned to the one beside me. “If you wouldn’t mind, I’m not done with you yet.” I smiled shyly, and he smiled back. The handsome man nodded, his cold eyes narrowing. He took a step to leave, but before he did he grabbed my arm. “You know where to find me if you want to have some real fun.” He whispered acidly in my ear. Taken aback, I nodded as he brusquely crossed the floor. And I knew somehow, I would end up dancing with him again. Shaking the thought from my mind, I let the new beat flood my mind, hoping desperately to think of little else than just dancing. And with him, it was so easy to just be.

I find myself dancing these dances far too often, one in the arms of the devil, and then the next in the patient arms of my loving Savior. There is something about sin that entices me, appearing so attractive and harmless at first glance, but so cold and heartless when immersed in it's charms. The devil has a hold, he always knows which insecurities to feed from, and he will not hesistate to whisk my hand from Jesus' at first chance. But Jesus is the perfect dance partner. He is unafraid of clumsy feet and battered toes, and ever patient when I've lost step. He loves me in my awkward inabillity to maintain any grace at all, while showering me with His own grace.
I sealed myself into sin when I took the hand of the devil, but Jesus has made a way out of that. And so I will dance with Him into eternity, stepping to the tune of the angels praising Him, and basking in the undeserved love He offers.