As a teenager, there was nothing I hated more than school dances. I went to all the dances and hated every one of them. Come on, is there anything on earth more awkward than a school dance?

I hated dances so much that one year I made the decision to officially boycott all dances. The night of the big dance, I looked out my window. I could see the high school parking lot from my house. I watched all the cars rolling in. I could hear the music bumping all the way from the gymnasium.

A smile stretched across my face. “Not tonight!” I thought, “Not ever again! No more dances for me!”

I had the perfect plan. I put on my big pair of sweatpants, microwaved some popcorn, and sat in my Lazy Boy recliner. I was in for an all-night Star Wars movie marathon! It was going to be perfect!

However, while lounging in the Lazy Boy, I heard the doorbell. DING DONG. I thought, “That’s strange. Who could that be?” It rang again. DING DONG.

Frustrated that someone would dare interrupt my night of perfection, I walk to the door. No sooner had I turned the handle, when the door burst open. Ten of my friends came running through the door and tackled me!

They were all shouting:
“You’re going to this dance whether you like it or not!”
“You’re not missing out on this!”
“You’re coming with us!”

Kicking and screaming, they dragged me to my room, forced me to put on nice clothes, and held me down to dump cologne on me so I would smell nice for the ladies.

I continued to insist that I didn’t want to go. I gave them all the excuses in the book: “I feel sick. I pulled my hamstring. My parents said I can’t go. Dancing is from the devil!” But they insisted that I was going, whether I liked it or not.

So I began to think to myself, “Self, you know what? Maybe this won’t be so bad. Maybe I will miss out if I don’t go. Maybe I will lock eyes with that special someone across the dance floor, and it will be love at first sight. Maybe if I go they will at least stop sitting on me.”

So I reluctantly went to the dance. And don’t tell anyone I said this, but I am actually glad that I did.

Sure, the dance was as awkward as always. No, I didn’t meet the girl of my dreams. Yes, I stood against the back wall most of the time. But I was with my friends.

As much as I didn’t want to go, it felt really good that my friends cared enough to walk to my house and drag me there. It felt really good to know that they thought the party wouldn’t be as good without me.

I will never forget that moment, because no matter how hard I fought, my friends cared enough to insist on inviting me.

This is the way evangelism in the church should be. Shouldn’t it? Heaven is a party! Angels throw a party every time someone gives their life to Christ.

I tell you, there is rejoicing in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents.”
Luke 15:10

In the book of Revelation we get a glimpse of what Heaven will look like. A great crowd of people are singing, shouting, and praising God with everything they’ve got. Sounds like a party to me!

If we plan on going, we better be at least invite our friends to come too. They might resist at first. But if you care about them, you won’t give up. Evangelism is as simple as inviting your friend to the party.

I’m not saying you should break down people’s doors, tackle them, and drag them to church – although that could work. But if you really care about your friends, you better at least invite them to the party!



3 thoughts on “I Hate School Dances”

  1. Coming from a Fundamentalist Baptist background, I told myself that I would NEVER become a member of a church that played “that rock and roll music.” I was appalled that there were churches that had electric guitars and drums on stage. SHAMELESS! Then it hit me. My friends and family who didn’t accept Christ would be eternally separated from God. That broke my heart.

    I dance, sing, (and sometimes scream and growl) on stage, and praise our God. I use every skill, talent, and ability He has blessed me with to break down every door I can. No rules, man. I am a barbarian Christian.

  2. Pingback: Learn to dance now – Roald Smeets | Roald Smeets

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