I’ve lost it.
Well actually, I’ve lost them.
Chains have fallen off. They are lost, never to return again. I don’t mean literal chains, rather, the ones that hold you back or restrict your life; the ones that are unseen.
I had chains I didn’t even know I had until debrief in Romania. One night during worship, some people were dancing to the song and Luke asked me why I wasn’t dancing. I said, “I don’t want to” and I got really offended. Why would that simple question offend me? I sat nicely against the wall and worshipped like a “normal” person and that was the end of it.
The next morning, a similar situation occurred after the morning session. I don’t exactly remember what they were doing, but some of the girls on my squad were goofing around and dancing. Luke came over to me again and said, “Why don’t you join them? Are you afraid?” I wanted to slap him sideways. How dare he say that I was afraid!? I’m not afraid; I just don’t feel like acting like a fool! It’s not me.
Once again, I was offended.
We walked directly from the morning session to our team debrief a few buildings away. During each debrief, we meet with the squad leaders and coaches for a discussion about how the last two months have gone and what we are going through.
The minute we sat down, I started to feel tears rising from deep within. I was very angry that this was happening. I seem to cry at every debrief so far on the World Race, but I was not in the mood to cry at that moment. It came out of nowhere. I tried to stuff it down and avoid eye contact with anyone, without success.
It was then that God started downloading things into my heart and mind.
“Chelsey, you have been choosing to stay chained to the wall when people are having fun. You think that if you go out of your comfort zone and make a mistake, people will think less of you.”
“You ARE that person that dances during worship. You have been trying to hide, but I know you better than you know yourself.”
“You do not always have to be the responsible person you’ve tried to be. You don’t have to carry the burdens and responsibility for your team. Let me take care of that.”
Now here’s the kicker: My coach, Marcy, said to me, “You have always been told that you are mature for your age. You are released to be a little girl again.”
The words hit me like a wall, making me choke almost. The tears fell hard. Luke grabbed me in his arms and cried too. It was like weight was literally dropping off my body.
What I realized is that I had myself chained to the fear of man. I didn’t dance because people might think I’m weird and think less of me. Affirmation was something I relied on heavily from other people. I was worried about making a fool of myself, so I played it safe. I didn’t say anything too risky for fear of displeasing someone.
It’s less risky to be a wallflower.
It’s so much more fun to be a dancer.
So I’m going to dance. I’m going to play. I’m going to be silly if I want. Sometimes I’ll act my age, but maybe I won’t. Instead of playing the mother, trying to control my surroundings and carrying others’ burdens, I’ll be a kid. I’ll let my heavenly Father carry the burden because He wants to, and he’s better at it anyway. It was never meant for me.
God never told me I had to grow up. Being a grown up is overrated anyway.
I hold the keys to the chains that I put on myself. God didn’t have me chained, because where God is there is no fear or captivity. Satan doesn’t chain me because he holds no power over my life. Ultimately, I was the one who held the key to my own chains. All I had to do was choose to unlock myself.
