I closed my eyes and my mind went blank. A mind usually filled with thoughts, completely white. the music played but my body didn’t move. eyes closed but eyes open. starting in my feet and moving to my arms. each movement taking shape of the music. every blank thought moving from brain to floor
most of you reading this know i’ve been a dancer for a long time. I started when I was 3 and went all the way till my senior year of high school. If you do the math thats about 14 years. 14 years of something meant for freedom, felt like a trap. granted when I was younger it was just something to pass the time (or an hour of silence at the house). I enjoyed the escape for a while. until I got older and the expectations grew with me
as a dancer it’s all about performance. every step had to be perfected. synchronized robots programmed to be the same. a structured masterpiece. be different – you’re wrong. it became a chore in life. a stale checkbox on the daily routine. I eventually fell out of love. something once full of life, became lifeless. an expression so beautiful and free, tampered by routine. When senior year rolled around, I was so done. I felt no freedom or happiness in it anymore. It became something I did to please others. I wasn’t dancing for myself anymore, if I even was in the first place. Everything about it was for everyone but myself. When senior year ended I was dead set on that being the last time I was ever going to dance. I was finally able to escape from this “terrible routine”. but boy was I wrong
If I could sum up my experience on the race in one word, it’s restoration. I came into this journey with a lot of brokeness, especially in terms of relationships. relationships with friends. relationships with family. the Father. myself… dance played a huge role with my inner brokeness. There are so many unhealthy stereotypes around being a dancer. “you’re too big” “you’re too small” “you’re this” “you’re not that”. as I got older, I became more aware of myself. hyper aware... I would constantly compare everything to everyone else. breaking down piece by piece until there was nothing left to pick out. until every time I looked in the mirror all I saw were broken pieces not worth the time fixing. The beautiful thing is all those times I looked in that mirror, He saw nothing but perfection. HIS daughter hating everything she saw that He loved deeper than anyone could ever love something. He consistently stood next to me, until I saw Him and everything that He says I am
That night for ministry we were supposed to have 2 scheduled dance classes, but they both got cancelled. This meant that there was roughly 2 hours of open space. our first instinct was to use that as free time. But thank the Lord thats not what happened. One of the House Of Raw dancers decided to take over the 2 hours and hold a freestyle class. Now listen. Freestyle was not my thing. It never was, and I thought it never would be. But there was something about this class that sparked a flame inside me. He asked for song requests and your girl obviously raised her hand. He had us start off by closing our eyes. He told us to just feel the music. I think it’s safe to say that at first everyone felt really awkward, myself very much included. But I just started to move my body. I began to care less and less about the people around me. everyone seemed to slowly disappear until it was just me. I opened my eyes and there I was. dancing for the first time. But this time was different than any other time i’ve ever danced. This time it was authentically me. Every single step meant something. No structure. just me. I ended up picking the music for the remainder of the night and we basically had one giant dance party. If I could even begin to express the feeling of freedom in that basement that night I would. I wish I could give you a better description of what happened that night, but I just cant even put it into words. For the first time I felt like myself. no structure. just me and the Lord. dancing.
Ive learned so much on this journey about who the Father calls me and my identity in Him. Before the Race, I was stuck in a place of brokeness. not feeling worthy or confident in who the Lord says I am. But now I know who He says I am. I am His daughter. I am Mighty. A person of authority. authenticity. gentleness. a leader, not a performer. I am His creation. and the cool thing is you don’t need a mission trip, or grand encounters with people to know who the Lord says you are. He speaks through every little thing. and He will continue to do so until you realize it’s Him. He is a patient father. His love is unconditionally perfect…
one day I will stand before the Lord. after I fall on my face in His presence, ill get up and dance. but not move my body in routine. no, this will be freedom. so overtaken by the Lords presence that I dance and don’t realize it. every movement is His. He danced with me through the highs and lows, and will continue to until my last steps on this earth, and dance straight into His arms. Every single little movement i’ve ever made was Him. He danced with me through it all until I saw it was Him. and when I get to heaven and see Him face to face we will dance together. following every move that He makes because He IS freedom. When I follow His movements I move in full freedom. In full peace. fully myself. fully His.
i will dance for you forever & ever
