I Wanna Dance Like Enoch Danced
A longing to walk so closely with God that worship becomes intimacy—and intimacy becomes eternity.
By Steve Wilkins
Key Scripture
“Enoch walked faithfully with God; then he was no more, because God took him away.”
—Genesis 5:24
I Wanna Dance Like Enoch Danced
Enoch didn’t perform for God.
He didn’t impress God.
He walked with God.
So closely, so consistently, so intimately that one day heaven simply folded him in.
That kind of walk has always stirred something deep in my soul.
The Broken Beginning
In 1999, we didn’t plan revival.
We didn’t schedule an awakening.
We simply reached the end of ourselves—and God met us there.
Our church had lost leadership and direction, but in that vacuum, the Spirit stirred hunger. Prayer became our oxygen. Worship became our warfare.
And one Sunday, heaven interrupted the ordinary.
People rushed the altar. They wept, collapsed, cried out. Salvation came—not only in the sanctuary, but in hallways, parking lots, and whispered conversations. Marriages were restored. Callings ignited. Lives changed.
As the worship leader, I witnessed it firsthand.
I saw the Spirit sweep across the room.
I saw people fall under a weight they could not explain.
And in moments I can only describe as holy and humbling, I became deeply aware that worship was participating in something far bigger than sound or song.
This is not a formula.
It is not something to reproduce or manufacture.
It was simply God’s presence responding to surrendered hearts.
The Cost of Praise
Isaiah cried, “Woe is me… I am undone.”
And that’s how I felt.
Undone by holiness.
Exposed by pride.
True worship costs something. Not money. Not talent.
Pride.
David understood it when he said,
I will not offer to the Lord that which costs me nothing.
To worship freely, I must release my need to appear composed.
To walk closely, I must die to self-awareness and awaken to intimacy.
Walking, Not Performing
Enoch’s legacy wasn’t built on moments—it was built on movement.
Step after step. Day after day.
A life oriented toward God.
Worship, at its truest, is not spectacle.
It is alignment.
And when alignment happens, heaven and earth respond.
What I once described as “feeding angels” was my limited language for a deeper truth: when God’s people surrender in worship, the spiritual atmosphere shifts. Praise does not empower God—but it positions us within what He is already doing.
Legacy Through Intimacy
Wayne Watson once sang,
“I want to get so close to Him that it’s no big change on that day when Jesus calls my name.”
That was Enoch’s life.
And his walk didn’t end with him. It echoed forward—through Noah, through generations, through history.
What if our worship today is shaping tomorrow’s faith?
What if our intimacy becomes someone else’s inheritance?
Prayer
Lord, teach me to walk with You—not perform for You.
Kill my pride.
Strip away my self-consciousness.
Make me childlike again.
Let my worship be obedience, and my obedience intimacy.
Draw me so close that heaven never feels foreign.
Amen.
Takeaway Thought
True worship isn’t about how it looks—it’s about how closely we walk.
And when we walk with God long enough, eternity feels like a natural next step.