Let the Remnant Shuck & Jive

 

Looking for permission.
Approval.
From who?
Let the Spirit move you.
Buffoon. She thought.
What kinda king would make
such a fool of himself in the streets?
Then again. What kinda teen
would take a couple smooth rocks and a sling
to a war with giants?
Maybe King David knew. The same God
that disciplined the lion
was the same God who co-signed his shot
and left a hallowed be my name in the forehead of Goliath,
and left a silence where his pride once clamored,
and left that uncircumcised head severed,
his skull and flesh quiet on a platter.

Maybe King David was a brotha,
maybe he shuck and jived in the streets
cause he didn’t need the worship team
to remind his feet that the feet of God 
is where his enemies were destined to reside,
that the feet of God was worth every drop of perfume, 
every kiss, every tear, every strand of hair 
used to wipe the feet of the One who would 
sleep in the storm and
eat with little boys addicted to porn and
keep the prostitutes warm and
I’ma return to the son of Jesse in a minute but maybe, 
just maybe, 
the woman in Luke 7 
thought it fit to praise with her lips 
the feet that would bring an end to the beast,
the seed promised in Eden — 
even the demons ask for permission at the sight of Jesus.
So why, then, do his people shuck and jive in the mind 
like we were born anything less than equal 
when we walked into the kingdom by saying Jesus is Lord?
Why do we pine and whine in our pride — 
I mean, insecurities — 
like Ephesians 3:20 don’t say that God is more?

Maybe there’s more to the scene of a king dancing in the streets than meets the eye.
Maybe we’ll find 
all the approval we need
when the opinions we care most about pleasing 
are the ones that actually give us freedom.
To shuck and jive. To be.
Buffoon. In the streets.
Let them think what they choose.
Don’t let your man-made image be a noose.
You were shaped with the face of One who is greater.
You were made to locate the backward spaces, misbehave, ruin the game, and show them
that it’s okay to be new,
unashamed,
to be used,
and show the way
even when your flesh says, “wait,
remember the good ol’ days,”
that the Spirit will move,
if you allow him to.

So move. Dance. And look like a fool.
The remnant in the gray is waiting to join you.
To be reminded.
Of what we were created to do.