Dancing

I spent a month in Mozambique last year. Part of that time was in the northern city of Pemba. When I first got there, some Mozambicans were teaching us some dances.
As some of you know, I don't dance. I just don't. It's not even that I can't...although that is part of it. I just don't.
I have no rhythm. None. I can't even lead my students in clapping because I have to concentrate so hard on keeping the right rythm that it makes the song no fun. Another aspect of my non-dancing is that I just am not graceful. I'm about as graceful as a llama on rollerskates in church. Dancing and me don't mix. And I just don't find it fun to have people watch me flailing on the dance floor. I actually find it very not fun. I do love to watch other people dance, though.
But anyways, back to what I was saying...I was in Mozambique and I was just wishing that I could dance and that I enjoyed dancing and it turned into a prayer. "Lord, teach me to dance" was my silent prayer for the next three weeks. Even though I knew the insignificance of the prayer, I prayed it anyways because I just wanted it so much and it made me excited to think that God is capable of giving me graceful rhythm.
So, I prayed. And I still didn't like dancing. Even in my room where nobody was watching. I prayed and I still tripped over my feet. I prayed and I still could only do the White Girl Dance...and even that I did poorly. I wasn't disappointed. I just kinda let go of the dream. Took it as a "No" from God.
But the night before I left Mozambique several people I had met prayed over me. And four times those praying over me said "The Lord loves your dance". I hadn't told anyone about my prayer.
So, I still can't dance. I still don't like to dance. But my prayer was answered. Not how I expected. Not how I wanted. But more clearly than I could have imagined. I won't always have anwers that are that clear. But I hope that I can see a "no" not as a punishment, but as the Lord answering out of love.