One area of seemingly constant struggle throughout my life is insecurity. In many situations I have believed that I am "not enough". Not smart enough to get a 4 on the AP Physics exam in high school. Not talented enough to be a part of the acapella group in college. Not pretty enough to perpetually have a boyfriend. A prime example of a "not enough" place in my life is dance.
I have always wanted to be able to label myself a 'dancer'. From a very young age, I have been drawn to dance. Dance, to me, is a language with words not found anywhere else. My soul speaks this language, but I cannot express those thoughts and feelings and movements without the outward expression of dance. And at various times throughout my life, I have stepped into this dialogue that God called me to. I did ballet in junior high. I was on the dance team in high school. I took a few classes in college. However, after a certain amount of time, I would allow myself to go mute, always slipping into the pit of "I'm not good enough", believing that it's too late for me to truly be fluent. I believed I was not enough and I know that it broke my Father's heart.
Recently, through the fog of this "not enough" lie, God stirred a longing in my heart to dance again. I prayed about it and told Him that He would need to provide the perfect setting for me to dance again.
Demanding, yes. Too big for God, no.
Enter training camp. With two-a-day worship sessions and a room filled with crazy charismatics who kept their eyes closed the whole time anyway, it was the perfect setting for me to dance for my Father. So I did. Timidly at first, I would wait through the first few songs, staying in my seat, then slowly make my way to the back of the room and gently sway. Quickly however, the words in my heart were churning and bubbling over and I had to get them out. I found myself twirling and leaping and shouting this language of my heart, my own version of speaking in tongues, I suppose you could say.
And that explosive joy in my own heart would have been enough for me. But it wasn't for my Father. He gives us gifts to bless our brothers and sisters. And sure enough, this joyful translation of words too long silent spoke to others as well. One of the first nights, Kacie Lynn (our mobilizer) came up to me after the worship set and said, "Keep dancing on the field, it will bless those with you". I was taken aback. How was I "enough" to bless people with this gift? But I continued to hear from people or see their smiles and know that My Father was doing something bigger than just touching my heart. He is using me to bring His Kingdom.
Because I am enough.
And you are enough.
And don't you dare let anyone, ever, tell you any different.
"Don’t be afraid.
Dear Zion,
don’t despair.
Your God is present among you,
a strong Warrior there to save you.
Happy to have you back, he’ll calm you with his love
and delight you with his songs." Zephaniah 3:17 (MSG)
