I've never been a confident dancer. Before a middle-school sock hop, I asked two older friends to teach me a few moves. We stood in front of a wall-length mirror, and while they bopped and swung naturally, I awkwardly tried to copy them, feeling self-conscious and silly.

In college, I learned the value of a strong lead through swing dancing and two-stepping. I would hold on for the ride, laughing freely when I stepped on toes. It's all in fun, I soon learned. Relax.

A friend of mine recently likened her relationship with God to a dance. It made me wonder what keeps me clumsy in my steps with Christ. Three things keep me from enjoying God's leadership: a cold heart, a mistaken idea of God's character, and, finally, a spirit of independence.

In his book Prayer: Finding the Heart's True Home, Richard Foster encourages believers to combat coldness by asking God to warm their hearts:

"I suggest that you begin by inviting God to kindle a fire of love within you. Ask Him to develop an ache in your heart. Then, when you are outside of His nearness for any length of time, this ache will begin again in you and will draw you back to His lovingkindness" (p. 141).

More often than not, my chief enemy is not coldness, but fear. I am afraid to look into the Father's eyes. I fear being known because I have a false view of who He is—that He's angry with me, aloof or unapproachable.

The only antidote to this lie is God's truth. In the Book of Hosea, God describes Himself as a Father who takes His children into His arms, who leads them with "cords of human kindness" and with "ties of love" (11:1-4, New International Version). A loving Father can be trusted to lead.

Lastly, independence is the enemy of intimacy. It keeps others at arm's length, is defensive and demands its own way. And it's impossible to dance freely with someone who is independent.

According to Foster, ancient Christians did a sacred dance called tripudium, where they would lock arms and take three steps forward and one step back. In doing this, Foster says the worshippers proclaimed theology with their feet: "They were declaring Christ's victory in an evil world, a victory that moves us forward, but not without setbacks" (p. 117).

Like the dancer dependent on her partner, I want to be sensitive to subtleties in God's lead. I want to submit to the larger story (three steps forward, one step back) and resist the urge to choreograph my own steps (three steps forward, three steps forward, three steps forward).

By grace, I want to stay in step with God's Spirit as the apostle Paul encourages us in Galatians 5:25 (NIV)—by keeping a warm heart, combating lies and squelching my fierce independence.

The gauges in our cars keep us moving. We can check that we're not running on empty, overheating or speeding. We also need gauges in our spiritual lives to make sure we stay balanced:

Upward
Is my relationship with God consistent and vibrant? Am I spending regular time alone with God? John 15:4 says, "Abide in Me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself unless it abides in the vine, so neither can you unless you abide in Me."

Inward
Do I set aside enough time for fellowship with other believers? Am I emotionally healthy and relating to others with grace and truth? Acts 2:44 reads, "And all those who had believed were together."

Outward
Do I tell others about Christ on a regular basis? Am I building friendships with nonbelievers? In Mark 16:15 Jesus says, "Go into all the world and preach the gospel to all creation."

I'm not sure that all men deserve their reputation for refusing to ask for directions, but I do.

Yet my son's allergy problems had driven me to desperation on the night I stopped to ask for help. I had left our hotel after midnight, searching for the nearest 24-hour pharmacy to get cough medicine.

The errand seemed simple enough when I headed a few exits north on Interstate 25. Now, as I rushed back toward my Denver hotel, this short drive had become a two-hour trek that was not yet over.

First, the pharmacy was farther from the hotel than I had expected. I got the medicine, but my nearly empty gas gauge required a stop for fuel.

However, the worst delay hit me back on I-25. All four southbound lanes were blocked, and I was forced off the freeway, left to wander the streets in search of my hotel. There might have been detour signs, but I didn't see them in the 2 a.m. darkness.

I quickly lost sight of the interstate, and more time passed. I imagined Michael still coughing. I imagined my concerned wife, unable to sleep, possibly starting to wonder what was taking me so long.

Since I had to find my way back to the hotel, I decided I would willingly humble myself to ask for directions, but I couldn't find anyplace open. Then I finally discovered a 24-hour supermarket.

Freshly equipped with directions, I got back on the road—the right one this time—squinting at landmarks in the darkness. Within half an hour I was back at my hotel room, medicine in hand.

When I think about opportunities to talk to my friends about how they can know Christ, I see a parallel. Most of my nonbelieving friends aren't looking for directions. Some don't even know they're lost.

Then a problem arises, and things change. My role: be available when a crisis comes. When I saw that grocery's shining beacon, I experienced relief. I had not been willing to ask for directions before, but I knew I needed help. Likewise, a friend in crisis will be eager to talk to me at the right time. I want to be ready.

We live in a dark world where strong character is a rare commodity. One person with exceptional character lived in the darkest of places: a World War II prison camp. Under horrific conditions, Corrie ten Boom reflected the life of Christ.

Corrie actually loved her persecutors, felt true joy while those around her were embittered, and was filled with a peace that undermined the tormentors who wanted to break her character. She was able to do so because of the abiding presence of Christ in her life. And abiding in Christ is the secret to developing a Christlike character.

Many of us are familiar with the list of spiritual character qualities found in Galatians 5:22,23: "When the Holy Spirit controls our lives, He will produce this kind of fruit in us: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control" (New Living Translation). The Lord wants to produce all these characteristics in our lives, not just one or two. We may have one or more gifts of the Spirit, but we should demonstrate every fruit of the Spirit.

Notice the quality that Paul lists first. Love is the fruit that guides and enhances the growth of the rest. Love is based on choice, not on feelings, and is the ultimate test of our authenticity as God's children. Jesus said, "Your love for one another will prove to the world that you are My disciples" (John 13:35, NLT).

All these character traits are closely aligned to one another. There is reasoning behind the order in which the fruit is listed. Love is joyful, and when joy breaks through, it brings peace. Those at peace can be patient, and patience makes kindness possible. Kindness is an expression of goodness. Someone who is patient, kind and good is also likely to be faithful. These fruits all grow together and lend their unique flavors to one another.

Finally we come to gentleness and self-control. We often make the mistake of thinking that gentleness means being passive and ineffectual. But gentleness has nothing to do with weakness. On the contrary, it is quiet strength under great control. Gentleness tames a stallion or calms the raging waters. It is not for the weak.

And quite naturally, this brings us to self-control. This fruit is the final victory of love over our old, sinful nature. How seldom we see it in today's world of self-gratification. Biblical self-control means strength that enables us to master our thoughts, emotions and deeds. As the Spirit focuses us on Christ's purposes, we are self-controlled because our mission is too great to waste a moment on trivial matters.

Are we to strain and struggle to produce this kind of fruit? No, fruit appears in season because the branches draw life from the vine. In the same way, we draw life from abiding in Christ, our Vine. We plant ourselves in the grounding of His inspired Word, remove the weeds of sin by confessing and repenting, bask in the living water of prayer, and submit to the necessary pruning of spiritual discipline. This is how we stay deeply connected to Christ.

Consider His character:

› He was loving—He reached out to minister to people He passed.
› He was joyful—He attended parties and celebrated when sinners found God.
› He was peaceful—He calmed stormy waters.
› He was patient—He never gave up on immature, quarreling disciples.
› He was kind—He embraced lepers.
› He was good—He cared for the physical hunger of a large crowd.
› He was faithful—He never neglected prayer, even when His time was short.
› He was gentle—Children rushed to Him everywhere He traveled.
› He was self-controlled—He took our punishment when He could have escaped.

You need not struggle to be a fruitful believer; simply abide in Christ. Simply live each day in step with the Spirit, and He will bring a pleasing harvest of strong character qualities. You will be surprised and delighted to see patience, gentleness and many other traits blooming in full flower in your life.

Adapted from His Intimate Presence, ©2003, by Bill Bright, New Life Publications, Campus Crusade for Christ. All rights reserved. Used by permission.

We didn't even have tickets when we showed up to the stadium. We just parked and hoped to find some tickets to the University of Texas football game.

One guy wanted $75 each. "No way," my friend said. For seats that should have cost $40, that was clearly ticket scalping. Later, we couldn't believe our luck when we found some for just $25 apiece.

Inside the stadium, an assistant pointed us toward our seats. "Down there," she said, pointing. That can't be right, I thought. I hardly believed it when we walked into the second row at the 45-yard line. Only the cameraman occasionally blocked our view. Behind us, an enormous crowd of people formed a towering wave of burnt orange. It was an incredible experience.

And it made me think a little about heaven. No, I'm not saying heaven will be like a Longhorns football game (although my UT alumnus friend probably thinks so).

It's just that we had these great seats, and I didn't get a chance to tell anyone about them beforehand. I didn't get the chance to dress crazy in hopes of getting on TV. In fact, I felt disappointed that I didn't have a chance to look forward to the game.

With heaven, I already have my ticket because Christ paid for it, and I can anticipate the experience. Thankfully, I also have time to tell people about how He has invited them to the eternal celebration.