Marriage as a Dance

Dance is about the best metaphor we’ve got for marriage—because it’s beautiful when it works and painful when it doesn’t. Like marriage, it takes two people who both believe in something bigger than their own rhythm.

The man leads. The woman follows. That’s the shape of the thing. But neither one is idle. She’s not a puppet, and he’s not a tyrant. They move different because they are different. And yet they move together. That’s the whole point.

He steps first, sure—but her response reshapes the whole scene. A woman doesn’t just follow; she interprets. She adds tension, grace, and timing. You give a man the lead and a woman the floor, and they’ll either stumble into a mess or make something that silences the room.

Sometimes one shines. Sometimes the other fades back. That’s not balance—it’s order. And it’s not clean or predictable. It’s alive. It’s wild in spots. That’s why it’s good.

Take the Jack and Jill dance competitions. Partners are paired at random—strangers, usually—and given a couple songs, fast and slow. I remember watching couple do one. No practice. No plan. Just instinct and attention. They listened to each other with their bodies, caught the music like a current, and rode it. It wasn’t choreographed. It was discovered.

Now, the movements were sensual—but not sordid. It’s not about lust. It’s about being awake to the other person. Listening with your body. Reacting with grace, restraint, and a kind of musical instinct. It’s beautiful without being safe.

A godly man doesn’t want a wife who’s just there to nod along. He wants a woman who answers his lead like music answers silence. But when a woman checks out, when she turns brittle or bitter, the whole dance comes apart. Same goes for the man who won’t risk leading.

Marriage isn’t choreography. It’s not a script. It’s two souls learning the steps in real time, sometimes tripping over each other, sometimes laughing, sometimes standing in stunned quiet because they caught the beat just right.

And when they do? It’s not some floaty spiritual bliss. It’s earthy. It’s weighty. It’s good like warm bread and strong coffee. It’s the kind of good that makes you believe maybe God knew what He was doing when He made them male and female.