I Danced With God Today

So… today I danced with God.

Let me explain.

I play bass and guitar at Burnt Hickory Baptist Church, mostly in the “Classic” service — older worship songs, classic hymns, and usually a solid choir anthem. I genuinely love getting to play there. The musicians are strong, the choir is sharp, and Sundays are always good. I’ve honestly never walked away thinking, Well, that was rough.

But today?

Today was different.

I can’t totally explain it, but there was just… joy. I felt completely dialed in. No stress. No overthinking. Just playing. The songs felt alive. There was this tangible sense of God’s presence — not in a dramatic, lightning-bolt way — just a deep, steady joy. It felt lighter. Freer.

After the second service, I walked to my truck and just sat in it for a second, kind of soaking it in. It’s about a 30-minute drive home, and normally I flip on PBS and listen to a talk show I like. Today I didn’t. I left the radio off.

I just talked to God.

I thanked Him for the morning. I asked Him what made today feel different. And somewhere in that quiet drive, He brought back a memory.

Years ago, when we lived on a little mini-farm in Washington, we had this field of tall wild grass. My daughter was in first grade. On days when I was home when she got off the bus, she’d run up the driveway yelling, “Daddy — let’s dance!”

She’d put her tiny feet on top of mine, and we’d try to waltz through the grass. It was awkward. We stumbled. We laughed. It was not graceful. But it was pure joy.

I loved those moments. Seeing her face light up — knowing she just wanted to be with me — that meant everything. And trust me, the feeling was mutual.

Hold that image.

Because somewhere between the hi-hat and the snare this morning, between locking in with the kick drum and weaving my bass line around the guitars and piano, I realized something.

For years I’ve thought of myself as a kind of “spiritual midwife” — helping facilitate worship, helping the congregation enter in. And sure, there’s some truth there.

But today that idea felt small.

Today I realized something else:

God didn’t give me music primarily so I could entertain people.

He didn’t give me music primarily so I could help others worship.

He gave me music because He loves me.

He loves the joy that explodes in me when I pick up an instrument.

He loves when I lock in with a drummer and start weaving something alive.

He loves when I signal a bridge with a bass run.

He loves when I improvise a line under a choir anthem that didn’t even have bass written for it.

This morning, while I was playing, I felt like that little girl standing on her father’s feet.

Not performing.

Not producing.

Not facilitating.

Just dancing.

I danced with God today.