In moments of turmoil, when shadows seem to engulf everything, where can we find solace and strength? United Church of Christ minister Otis Moss III encountered this very question during a period of threats against his church. One night, amidst this unsettling time, he was awakened by sounds not of danger, but of pure, unadulterated joy emanating from within his own home. He discovered his young daughter, Makayla, dancing in her room. This wasn’t just any dance; it was a vibrant expression of life, a beacon of light cutting through the darkness – a powerful example of Dancing In The Dark Home.
Her movements, full of youthful exuberance, were a stark contrast to the fear that gripped the household. As Moss observed, “Her movements were so jubilant, her spirit so free of worry or fear that I couldn’t even stay mad at my baby girl.” In that instant, Makayla wasn’t just a child making noise; she was a symbol of resilience, a fellow traveler navigating the night, much like her worried father. While Moss was “caught in a cycle of worry and anger,” allowing the darkness to permeate within, Makayla, in her innocent wisdom, chose to dance.
This simple act became a profound lesson. Moss realized, “She’s dancing. The darkness is all around her as it’s all around you—but she’s still dancing.” It’s a powerful metaphor for life’s challenges. Darkness, representing fear, uncertainty, and hardship, can feel overwhelming, especially within the supposed safety of our homes, our personal sanctuaries. Yet, the act of dancing in the dark home becomes a defiant declaration of joy, a conscious choice to cultivate light from within when the outside world feels dim.
The original article poignantly states, “What we forget, faithwise, in our fear—what I was forgetting that night in my daughter’s room—is that even in the darkest night, when we see no light at all, the light is still there.” This speaks to an enduring truth: even when we are enveloped by darkness, the potential for light persists. Think of the sun, still shining even when night falls on our part of the world, or the stars, ever-present behind the thickest clouds. Dancing in the dark home is about tapping into that inherent light, that inner resilience that remains even when external circumstances are challenging. It’s about choosing to move, to express joy, to find moments of lightness within our own space, despite the surrounding gloom.
Makayla, in her childlike innocence, instinctively understood this. “By dancing in the dark, by doing one of the things she most loved, she was making her own light.” She wasn’t waiting for the darkness to dissipate; she was actively creating her own source of joy and illumination right there in her room, her personal “home” within the larger home. This resonates deeply with the timeless wisdom of Psalm 30:5, “Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning,” and verse 11, “You have turned my mourning into dancing.” This ancient text, brought to life by a child’s spontaneous dance, underscores the transformative power of choosing joy even amidst sorrow.
Inspired by his daughter’s dance, Moss shared this message with his congregation, urging them to “Dance in the dark!” He emphasized the need to confront life’s threats, to fight for justice and safety, but also to remember that “even in the darkness of midnight we can maintain a connection to the light.” Dancing in the dark home, therefore, is not about escapism or denial. It’s about cultivating inner strength, maintaining hope, and nurturing love – love for oneself and for community – to persevere through difficult times. It’s about finding that inner rhythm, that personal dance, within the confines of our own lives, our own “homes,” that allows us to not just survive the darkness, but to actively create our own light and thrive.
A path from one week to the next—Izzy Spitz, *Untitled*, watercolor. CAC Staff, *Untitled*, watercolor. Izzy Spitz, *Field Study 2*, oil pastel on canvas. Used with permission.
In embracing the concept of dancing in the dark home, we learn to navigate life’s uncertainties with grace and resilience. It’s about turning inward, finding our sacred center, and allowing our inner light to shine, even when the world outside feels overwhelmingly dark. It’s in these moments, in our own “dark homes,” that we discover the enduring power of joy, hope, and the transformative act of choosing to dance.
