Still That?

There was, and there is, something so exhilarating, so cathartic, about throwing your body around to a beat or sound. Like swinging on the swings and the wind whipping through your hair or taking off your heels or tie at the end of the day, dance is just that freeing. All that to say, I’m missing my old pastime and reminiscing about it.

I miss the creativity, the exhaustion, the release, my mind being offline for a few hours, the singular focus, the achievement, the expression, and the communication without ever saying a word. I know it sounds cliché, but dance saved my life. In high school, I was too busy to get too much into nefarious activities because I had dance. I literally had practice every day but Sunday. Side note: we tend to tell salvation stories around dramatic moments like, “God delivered me from this” or “God rescued me from that.” But sometimes God’s preservation looks like “I had somewhere to go,” “I had something to do,” or “I had people expecting me.” And personally, I thank God for that!

But back to the story, I was good at dancing, so much so that I was Brianna “the dancer” because my twin and I went to different high schools. You know how you know twins as twins, but I’ll digress. After I stopped dancing formally or technically (because once the music comes on, I’m going to move), I struggled for a moment to separate what I did from who I was. It’s all cool until God changes the season and suddenly, we don’t know who we are anymore. But one thing this season has taught me is that the gift can change. The role can change. The body can change (I am far from the double zero I once was). The capacity can change. But my God doesn’t. Now that’s grounds for a praise break 😮‍💨

Anyhow, my friend Hannah sent me a video of an incredible dancer, and she said, “Why do I feel like you’d kill this style of dance?” The professional dancer in the video was literally phenomenal. But the thing that stayed with me was her story. After having 3 kids, she was documenting her journey of trying to get back dance. It was humbling to watch because I know how hard it is to do what your mind knows how to do, but your body won't or in this case, no longer can. And you know how you say something profound and think, “That will preach,” or that there is a lesson in it? This is how we got here if you’re wondering.

I was just thinking that there are things we know that we should do but we aren’t yet able to do consistently. Paul literally articulates this tension in Romans 7. We can know what is right and still struggle to embody it. We can know Scripture and still have to learn obedience. We can know how to pray and still struggle to pray personally. We can know that God is trustworthy and still find ourselves reacting like He isn’t. And I say we to soften the blow because I’m talking about me. 🥲😅

Personally, dance was always more than an activity. It gave me discipline, focus, expression, community, a healthy outlet, confidence, a way to communicate, protection from things I could have otherwise gotten caught up in, a sense of identity in some ways, and more. Then Hannah comes along, essentially saying, “I can still see that in you.” I don’t think she realizes how she inspired me and this here house note. It’s more likely she meant the physical skill, but it felt good, even for a moment, to pretend that she still saw what dance left behind.

I can be so focused on what I’m not doing anymore or who is no longer around that I forget what formed me, or how I was blessed while I had the title, was doing the thing, or maintaining the relationship. And I’ll be honest: knowing this doesn’t make me miss dancing any less, but I can appreciate the lesson.

Maybe the question isn’t always, “How do I get back to who I was?” Maybe sometimes it's, “What did God form in me there that He wants me to carry here?” Or maybe God does want me to get back to who I was or what I did. I don't know. It's worth exploring with The One with the answers.

God changes seasons. He changes assignments. He changes our capacity. He changes our roles. He restores, and both gives and takes away. But He doesn’t change.

And maybe that's the part I'm still sitting with. That the things God used to shape me aren’t necessarily wasted just because the season that introduced them is over.

I don't know if I'm supposed to dance again. I don't know if Hannah's comment was anything more than "Bri, I know you could kill this." But I do know it felt good to be reminded that something I thought belonged to an old version of me might not have disappeared completely.

I still miss dancing, though.

So, use lemons to make lemonade, own your new normal, or whatever platitude will encourage you.  

Some things we may return to. Some things we may never do the same way again. And some things we may not even realize we’re still carrying until somebody else looks at us and says, “I can still see that in you.”

So maybe there is something you used to do that you miss. Maybe there is a part of yourself you haven’t seen in a while. Maybe God is nudging you to pick something up again or revisit it. Maybe He is reminding you why He delivered you from the person, place or thing. Or maybe there is an area of your faith where you know what God has said, but you’re still learning how to live as you believe it. Wherever you are, don’t settle for a cliché. Ask what God is forming, what He is restoring, and what you are still carrying forward. I’ll end with this: use lemons to make lemonade, own your new normal, or whatever platitude will encourage you.