Last night I drove to Springfield, Missouri, to attend a weekly dance at The Savoy, a ballroom owned by my friends Anne and Andy. My friend Matt was there, and it was the perfect thing–dancing, seeing friends–a way to get away. Anne and Andy rent The Savoy for weddings and events, so after the dance I helped them and Matt set it up for a local graduation. When we finished at 1:30 in the morning we went for tacos, then I crashed at Anne and Andy’s place, which is above the ballroom.

Unfortunately, I didn’t sleep great, at least at first. Probably too much beer, which was my payment for helping set things up. Also, I apparently got sunburned yesterday at my friend CJ’s farm. My back looks like something you’d find at a Western Sizzlin’ Steakhouse. Point is I must have dehydrated myself, since I woke up in the middle of the night with a headache. But then I drank a glass of water, took some Tylenol, and went back to bed, and things were better this morning.

Phew.

I’ve spent the day dicking around Springfield with Matt. First we went to Chipotle for lunch, then perused a handful of antique stores. Later we grabbed frozen custard, then came back to the ballroom so Matt could work the graduation, which is going on now. Everyone else is downstairs, and I’m blogging upstairs. Whenever the event is over, I’ll help get things ready for a wedding tomorrow (or at least help eat the leftover graduation cake). As I’m pretty beat from all the sun, dancing, and calories, I’m hoping to get a nap in first.

It may not happen.

Before my estate sale, I boasted a modest collection of religious figurines–Jesus on the Cross, the Mother Mary, a Buddha or two–I had all my spiritual bases covered. And whereas I liked all the statues for different reasons, the only one I didn’t sell was Jesus on the Cross, a mid-century modern piece I affectionately refer to as Rock Star Jesus, since his hips and arms are kind of kicked off to one side. In addition to looking like a dancer (and the fact that there’s a story in the Acts of John about Jesus dancing before his crucifixion), Rock Star Jesus reminds me to surrender joyfully to the trials of life.

I wrote a blog about Rock Star Jesus, surrendering, and resurrection here.

When Matt and I were antique shopping today, I bought another statue of Jesus, this one brass, small enough to fit in your pocket. (A travel-sized savior, if you will.) This statue, I guess, implies a cross but doesn’t actually have one. Or perhaps it represent’s the resurrection, the triumphant return, the rising. Regardless, Christ’s arms are raised higher than normal, as if in praise, as if in celebration, as if to say, “Friday was a rather bad day, but now let’s party.” The whole thing made me think of a recent picture my friend Bonnie took of me in Nashville, in which I adopted a similar pose under a sign marked “receiving.” You can read about it here, but my idea was that raising my arms represented my willingness to receive all the good (and even the not so good) life and the universe have to offer.

All this to say that I thought the new statute with its outstretched arms was the perfect reminder of a hundred things–surrender, resurrection, joy in all circumstances, receiving and abundance, even asking for a hug. (Come to papa.) This is the deal with a symbol. It can mean so many things. After four years of therapy, I look at the statue’s out-turned palms and think, There was a man with good boundaries, someone who could say no–to money changers, to temptation, to compromising his soul. (Or maybe those flicked-out wrists just mean Jesus knew how to vogue.) I know I’m making jokes about a sacred figure. I know that as of this afternoon I’ve effectively started a collection of Whirling Messiahs. But having had a challenging year, I actually take these statues seriously, since they remind me that Jesus had his challenges too and–what’s more–surpassed them. If you believe the story in the Acts of John, he danced passed them. This, I think, is the message of any dancing Jesus, that your story isn’t about your physical challenges, but rather your soul’s rising.