Don't Forget to Dance
I love to dance. I love it with everything I have. Give me a pair of stretchy pants and a platform and I will take up all the space with my leaps and shimmies. And you better believe I’ll curtsy when I’m done. I don’t know exactly why I love it so much, but I think it’s because I feel so free. And I genuinely enjoy myself. I can recall many-a-many times where I’ve just lost myself in the sport. Ten-minute dance sessions after a huge ministry gathering. Getting crunk and drunk at my cousin’s wedding reception (not the ceremony, I promise). Zumba sessions with my girl Megan in high school. A wii remote in my hand as I follow the ra-ra-rasputin dance routine playing on my tv screen. In a tiny cabin while soft music plays and I sway back and forth with the dude that I love. And in my own room, in my overalls, while I look at myself in the mirror to make sure my hips look good. I am there and I am in my element and I am free.
But then there are those times when I’m in front of people and my intuition and drive and desire to dance are halted by eyes and judgement. Where I forget to dance and I make sure, instead, that I don’t look crazy. I hear the music and I want to go for it, but I don’t feel that I’m surrounded by comfort. Not enough to give it my all. I shrink myself and I format into what looks a bit more normal. I forget why I love dancing, and all I can focus on is if the small back-and-forth steps that I’m doing are too eccentric. I’ve got two voices in my head; one tells me to let my freak fly and the other whispers that I am ridiculous and I need to sit down.
And then I think.
Maybe there won’t always be a chance to dance, Kathryn.
I have spent a majority of my life listening to the little whisper in my head that asks me to be small in case the people around me don’t like what I look like, metaphorically, when I dance. I look to see who’s watching, as if that should change things. My bones and skin itch to express, but I can’t help but sit in the shade and conform myself to people who think that dancing in public is on the same level as insanity.
Can we just stop for a second and understand what kind of life we’re living if we sit on the cold bench at the prom in fear of what our high-school colleagues will think, when we actually wanna get out there on that gym basketball court and bust a move? Let me be the first to say: that’s not living alive, that’s just existing.
If you read through John 10:10, you’ll hear Jesus say “a thief comes only to steal and slaughter and destroy; I came so that they might have life and have it in abundance.” And you guys, I truly believe that most of us have forgotten to live our lives in abundance. That looks different for every person you meet, but for me, that’s sitting on the cold bench at the prom and being afraid of what people might say if I go out and do what I love. And you know, one day I just hit a point in my life where I realized I was tired of that bench and I was tired of how cold it was and I just wanted to dance. I was tired of listening to the voice that told me I look like an idiot when I do the cha-cha slide. And I decided to chose abundance. I decided to believe the words that Jesus spoke: that He wants an abundant life for me. And I made the decision that I want an abundant life for myself, too.
If you made it this far, I invite you to keep on going with me. I want to reveal to you in the many ways the Lord has asked me to live my life in abundance. It doesn’t always look big and it doesn’t always look flashy, BUT it does promise fullness and joy and adventure, and I’m always down for that. I want to explore with you what those things are that He’s put on my heart. This includes a lot of every-day living, of loving your body and loving your mind, and how to seek out faith in the midst of all of that. I want to share my knowledge and I want to lift you up. Why? Because Jesus wasn’t just talking to me. He wants you to have an abundant life, too. The kind of life you deserve.
So here we go. All are welcome in this place. Put on your stretchy pants; You are more than welcome to dance with me.