Dancing. My passion. My second love.
I started Ballet lessons at the age of 4 and quit when my mother would no longer sit there and take the class with me and the other 4 year olds.
I picked it up again at the age of 10 and didn’t stop until my Junior year of High School.
Dancing was my outlet. My form of inner expression.
Soon, it became my god.
It was all I did. All I desired. All I thought about.
I.
Dancing was about Me. I had to be the best. I had to have higher extensions than the other girls.
It went from my god, to my obsession.
An eating disorder, extreme exercise addiction and a sick body image derived from this.
These things I now, for the first time, I can say are finally gone.
It only took 9 years of healing.
I stopped dancing my Junior year of high school because that’s when I got more involved in my youth group and I had to make a choice. I couldn’t be the head dancer of the studio and only be there 4 days a week. I could be in youth group and find what I was missing 2 days a week.
I chose youth group.
I knew dancing wouldn’t heal the pain, wouldn’t tell me I was loved, accepted.
Dancing wouldn’t tell me I was beautiful.
It told my 14 year old body that 83 pounds was good for my 5 foot 9 inch body and that if I ever got over 115 in my life, I would be too heavy to dance.
He told me I was beautiful and made with a purpose. He told me He loved me, He accepted me, He created me.
He told me I was made to weigh more than 115 pounds.
I didn’t dance for 2 years of my life. I had a huge injury of never-leaving tendonitis. Then seen as a curse. Now seen as God’s blessed gift.
I couldn’t dance for me anymore. I had to dance for Him.
I was chosen for a senior solo in chorus and instead of singing, my teacher wanted me to dance. I chose the song by Big Daddy Weave “Audience of One”. It was my first time dancing in 2 years.
I wasn’t dancing for me.
I wasn’t dancing for the auditorium that was packed and overflowing.
I was dancing for Him.
Going to college I joined 2 dance classes and contemplated over declaring my minor in Dance.
Tap class was fun and joy filled. African dance was as well…but it was during this class my tendonitis began to act up.
This was my warning.
Dancing was again becoming my god. I had started developing an eating disorder again and drew away from many people. I saw myself falling back into many old habits.
I struggled my way through the Dance minor audition. My feet were on fire. It hurt to walk back to the dorm.
A gift to a close friend was a dance to a song about something she had taught me.
I danced for the Lord giving thanks to him for this special friend and all she had brought me.
The last 8 bars, I hoped she would think I was an amazing dancer.
I twisted my foot.
2 hours later I’m sitting in the ER. Then hopping around on crutches for 3 weeks.
During these 3 weeks, I was prayed over and my foot was instantly healed and I walked home carrying my crutches. Two days later it was hurting again. My exercise addiction had started up. I had to run. I had to get rid of this flab.
I.
After receiving some words from one sweet girl, I knew what I had to do.
I packed up my dancing things. Tights. Leotards. Pointe shoes. Tap shoes. Character shoes. Ballet slippers.
Boxed up.
I went to church that week and the song playing was “Fields of Grace” by Big Daddy Weave. (They seem to play a part here…)
That was the first time my foot hadn’t hurt in 3 weeks.
“I love my Father, my Father loves me
I dance for my Father, my Father sings over me
And nothing can take that away from me”
For the first time I was truly dancing for the Lord.
It was no longer My gift for me.
It was His.
No more I.
All Him.
At my Water Baptism one of the worship songs played was called
“Dancing Generation” by Matt Redman (not Big Daddy Weave).
It has become my vision.
My dream.
My hearts desire.
He has changed and reshaped my heart over and over again
More this summer than any time before…
All these things and the many other trials and lessons I have learned
are all a part of the message I was born to tell people.
To tell the Nations.
Only He will save you.
Only He will heal you.
Only He is worth dancing for.
Call on Him.
Seek Him.
You’ll find Him.
Move from defeat to celebration
From broken to bold
From lost to found.
From mourning
To Dancing.
Lets become a Dancing Generation
Let’s Hope.
Let’s Dream.
Let’s Fight.
Let’s Love.
Let’s Change the World.
To the non-dancers:
Please don’t mind us as we lose ourselves to bring Him praise.
Don’t mind our jumping, our singing, our flailing arms.
It’s just the overflow of forgiven souls
Changing the world
And giving others the freedom to dance.
Won’t you join us?
I started Ballet lessons at the age of 4 and quit when my mother would no longer sit there and take the class with me and the other 4 year olds.
I picked it up again at the age of 10 and didn’t stop until my Junior year of High School.
Dancing was my outlet. My form of inner expression.
Soon, it became my god.
It was all I did. All I desired. All I thought about.
I.
Dancing was about Me. I had to be the best. I had to have higher extensions than the other girls.
It went from my god, to my obsession.
An eating disorder, extreme exercise addiction and a sick body image derived from this.
These things I now, for the first time, I can say are finally gone.
It only took 9 years of healing.
I stopped dancing my Junior year of high school because that’s when I got more involved in my youth group and I had to make a choice. I couldn’t be the head dancer of the studio and only be there 4 days a week. I could be in youth group and find what I was missing 2 days a week.
I chose youth group.
I knew dancing wouldn’t heal the pain, wouldn’t tell me I was loved, accepted.
Dancing wouldn’t tell me I was beautiful.
It told my 14 year old body that 83 pounds was good for my 5 foot 9 inch body and that if I ever got over 115 in my life, I would be too heavy to dance.
He told me I was beautiful and made with a purpose. He told me He loved me, He accepted me, He created me.
He told me I was made to weigh more than 115 pounds.
I didn’t dance for 2 years of my life. I had a huge injury of never-leaving tendonitis. Then seen as a curse. Now seen as God’s blessed gift.
I couldn’t dance for me anymore. I had to dance for Him.
I was chosen for a senior solo in chorus and instead of singing, my teacher wanted me to dance. I chose the song by Big Daddy Weave “Audience of One”. It was my first time dancing in 2 years.
I wasn’t dancing for me.
I wasn’t dancing for the auditorium that was packed and overflowing.
I was dancing for Him.
Going to college I joined 2 dance classes and contemplated over declaring my minor in Dance.
Tap class was fun and joy filled. African dance was as well…but it was during this class my tendonitis began to act up.
This was my warning.
Dancing was again becoming my god. I had started developing an eating disorder again and drew away from many people. I saw myself falling back into many old habits.
I struggled my way through the Dance minor audition. My feet were on fire. It hurt to walk back to the dorm.
A gift to a close friend was a dance to a song about something she had taught me.
I danced for the Lord giving thanks to him for this special friend and all she had brought me.
The last 8 bars, I hoped she would think I was an amazing dancer.
I twisted my foot.
2 hours later I’m sitting in the ER. Then hopping around on crutches for 3 weeks.
During these 3 weeks, I was prayed over and my foot was instantly healed and I walked home carrying my crutches. Two days later it was hurting again. My exercise addiction had started up. I had to run. I had to get rid of this flab.
I.
After receiving some words from one sweet girl, I knew what I had to do.
I packed up my dancing things. Tights. Leotards. Pointe shoes. Tap shoes. Character shoes. Ballet slippers.
Boxed up.
I went to church that week and the song playing was “Fields of Grace” by Big Daddy Weave. (They seem to play a part here…)
That was the first time my foot hadn’t hurt in 3 weeks.
“I love my Father, my Father loves me
I dance for my Father, my Father sings over me
And nothing can take that away from me”
For the first time I was truly dancing for the Lord.
It was no longer My gift for me.
It was His.
No more I.
All Him.
At my Water Baptism one of the worship songs played was called
“Dancing Generation” by Matt Redman (not Big Daddy Weave).
It has become my vision.
My dream.
My hearts desire.
He has changed and reshaped my heart over and over again
More this summer than any time before…
All these things and the many other trials and lessons I have learned
are all a part of the message I was born to tell people.
To tell the Nations.
Only He will save you.
Only He will heal you.
Only He is worth dancing for.
Call on Him.
Seek Him.
You’ll find Him.
Move from defeat to celebration
From broken to bold
From lost to found.
From mourning
To Dancing.
Lets become a Dancing Generation
Let’s Hope.
Let’s Dream.
Let’s Fight.
Let’s Love.
Let’s Change the World.
To the non-dancers:
Please don’t mind us as we lose ourselves to bring Him praise.
Don’t mind our jumping, our singing, our flailing arms.
It’s just the overflow of forgiven souls
Changing the world
And giving others the freedom to dance.
Won’t you join us?
1 comment:
This post broke my heart.
It was such a blessing to read it though.
I hope you continue to do well, I'll be praying for you.
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