Category Archives: Achieving Goals

Weddings are dreams…if you do them right.

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I got married this weekend!

Everything everyone says about the day going so fast, but being so beautiful, is right. Everything they say about being madly in love being intoxicating, is right. Everything they say about the great blessing of being surrounded by the people who love you, and who you love most, is right. They’re all right. It’s magical, but it’s only magical if you do it right. It’s only right if you’re marrying who you should marry. And if you’re upholding marriage until it’s time for marriage.

The most magical parts of our day were not the flowers (even though they were beautiful!), or the candles (which I got from the dollar store and that didn’t burn right…not that I noticed – I heard from my people), or the hair, or the makeup, or the suits. It wasn’t the “rager” we had after (the whole thing was over by 10pm), and it certainly wasn’t the tight (although also beautiful) dress I was wearing.

What was magical was Jesus. Jesus, who picked us for each other. Who made a love story out of our resistance (see any other blog post from before this about how we thought our lives should go). Jesus who changed us like water into wine, and Jesus, who was our first love. Jesus, who taught us what love is. Who teaches us what love is. Jesus, was the magic. Jesus, is the magic. Today is magical. Because marriage is Jesus’ and it can only be done as marriage, with Jesus. The rest is a sham.

Ray and I didn’t freak out about details while planning. We laughed a lot. We learned how to tie bows, and he got to watch me wander around Hobby Lobby a lot and grow his patience. We made time for our families and extended leases so that we didn’t have to live together before our marriage. We cried in the last three years as we lived in different houses, and states, and had surgery and almost cancer diagnoses, ER visits, hair loss, reconciliation of pasts, and figuring out how to fit into a new life. And we did it all together. It wasn’t easy, and it was magic too. This time with each other and Jesus, was our magic.

One of my two most favorite moments of our wedding was walking down the aisle with my father to greet my groom. After three years of up and down and changing as a person with him, there is only one person who could ever have compared to the love that my father has for me. I was proud of the man I was marrying. I was so blessed that my dad loved him so much and how much he has laid down his life for me. I am thankful that my father taught me to wait for the man who could make my life magical.

My second favorite moment, was when the man of my dreams cried while dancing our first dance with me. I have a hard time dancing – mostly because I am a white girl, but also because I have a prosthetic leg. While most people are busy working on shows for their first dance, we practiced me following him so that I didn’t step on him or my dress. It’s a vulnerable point for me. And it’s a space of challenge that only he could have worked himself into. He led me like the man of my dreams who knows exactly how to let me be independent while empowering me by holding me up in ways that people do not see. He has done physical therapy I didn’t know I needed, and he has wrapped up the broken pieces of my heart into one whole piece.

But he couldn’t do that without being led by Jesus. Half of the letter he wrote me before the wedding was Scripture. Wait for the man who doesn’t just give you himself. Wait for the man who unashamedly laughs with you while you plan for your wedding, who cries on your shoulder because he thinks you’re the most beautiful person in the world, and wait for the man who gets up the Monday after the wedding to go to work so that you can rest. Wait for the man who gives you Jesus.

Wait for the magic. Wait to see your groom until you walk down the aisle (pictures can wait until after). Wait for him to stand up and be a man. Don’t marry someone for the flowers. They will fade. Don’t marry someone for the candles. They won’t stay lit. Don’t marry someone for the sex. Married sex is the only sex that counts, and it’s not about the sex. Marry the person who you can let into the moments that make your heart break.

Wait for the man who will spin you around in front of a room of people because he can’t decide if he wants to look at you, or hold you close. Wait for the magic. Do the wedding right – it’s easy to do when the marriage is right. Wait for the right dream come true.

This is our first dance song. Here are the lyrics. Please listen and read. It is what we want people to see of our lives, which is why we picked it. The first verse is me (speaking to 25,000 this summer) and the second is him. And we have learned…nothing matters…but looking like love, Jesus, to each other, and to the world.

I hope everyone who was able to come and those who we know see that, and only that, in our wedding – and in our marriage. In our forever.

The marriage was worth the wait. The magic was worth the wait. Ray was worth the wait.

More Like Love – Ben Rector: Click here to listen

I use to think I wanted to be famous
I’d be recognized out in a crowd
But the funny thing is anytime I’ve gotten what I want
It lets me down

But now I just wanna look more like love
I just wanna look more like love
This whole world is spinning crazy
And I can’t quite keep up
It’s the one thing around here
That we don’t have quite enough of
So I just wanna look a little more
Like love

I used to think I needed all the answers
I used to need to know that I was right
I used to be afraid of things I couldn’t cover up
In black and white

But I just wanna look more like love
I just wanna look more like love
This whole world is spinning crazy
And I can’t quite keep up
It’s the one thing around here
That we don’t have quite enough of
So I just wanna look a little more
Like love

I find the farther that I climb
There’s always another line
Of mountain tops
It’s never going to stop
And the more of anything I do
The thing that always ends up true
Is getting what I want
Will never be enough

So I just wanna look more like love
I just wanna look more like love
This whole world is spinning crazy
I can’t quite keep up
It’s the one thing around here
That we don’t have quite enough of
So I just wanna look a little more
Like love

Like love

…because love wins.

first-dance

 

I am marrying someone with a chronic illness.

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I didn’t want to marry someone who had as much difficultly as I did in life. I wanted someone who had it all together – who didn’t have a hard time doing the things I do – who could take care of every part of me. Maybe somewhere in life I had been led to believe that I needed that. That I needed someone to take care of me all the time, and that there was only a specific way in which that could be done. I’ve learned differently.

So I had a list of qualities that made me think no one was good enough to do the job. They weren’t spectacular, but they were probably very different than others had. I guess I don’t really know what they all are anymore, because I think I’ve thrown those out the window in exchange for way more than I thought I needed.

Ray is perfect, for me. Not in the blah blah blah cliche way. But in the way that only God can possibly know what I need to take care of my soul, my body, and my heart.

He is a mess. And so am I. A big old beautiful mess.

When he was diagnosed with narcolepsy, I suppose that’s the time that I could have said, “Well, that’s going to be too hard, so nope.” That certainly wasn’t on my list of things I wanted in a husband. There are hard things about it. He can’t be scared because his legs will give out underneath him. (no, I’m not kidding – it’s called cataplexy) And there are certainly times in life when he’ll be scared and we can’t stop that. We have strict bed times. It’s not a lot of fun to live in the night all the way to 9:30pm before saying goodbye, but it’s what we have. The medicine is expensive, and if we don’t have it sometime in the future, we’re probably a bit out of luck. And maybe we’re naive (duh, who isn’t?) but we’ll deal with that when it comes.

Anyway, the point is, I’m marrying someone with a chronic illness. And I would recommend you do so too.

The thing is, we know we are very human because of chronic illness. I am sick, then he’s sick, and sometimes we’re sick on the same day. And those days are hard, but they are also full of love. We aren’t prideful because we are aware that it’s all pretty able to fall apart at any time. And we like our weird illnesses and the unique parts about us that challenge the other. I like to stay up late, but it’s healthier for me to go to bed. So marrying someone with narcolepsy makes me a better human – in a way I didn’t expect. Thanks God.

I’m marrying someone with a chronic illness and I’m really excited about it.

Pray for us, always, and forever, please. 🙂

…because love wins.

Words I support.

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I’m tired of people romanticizing overexertion. Exhausted is not the new chic. Coffee (though {sometimes} a delicious necessity) is not a food group, and running on fumes is not admirable. Why do we hold pedestals for sleepless nights, break downs and inner turmoil? Are those things really to aspire to? Self care, balance, the ability to  know when your body, mind, and spirit need to take a step back. Those are things we should admire. We have to stop blurring the line between ‘commitment’ and self endangerment, because too many people are burning out before they have a chance to truly shine.Exertion

…because love wins.

Because ADHD isn’t just jokes.

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BrainI know a large number of individuals who have adult ADHD (yes, as adults!). It’s a part of me that I always like to know people fully. So, that has recently opened the door of understanding that this is a widely misunderstood illness.

To just clear it up for everyone who will come in and say ADHD doesn’t exist:
1) No, not everyone who can’t pay attention has ADHD. Not everyone who makes poor choices has ADHD. Not every child is taught how to treat others, and they may not have ADHD. But that doesn’t mean that it doesn’t exist just because you haven’t been around it. So don’t judge the mother in the grocery store with the “naughty” kid.
2) ADHD symptoms can be made worse by a number of things: allergies, chemicals in food and in products, and even by some medication. So if people are particular about things, don’t tell them they are weird. You may not know why they do what they do. Be a bit flexible and help out!
3) Medicine is right for some people, and not right for others. But unless you have been there, you shouldn’t really give that opinion to someone who is there.

What a neuro-typical brain sees in someone with ADHD is often someone who doesn’t think things through before speaking (“What, are they stupid??” No, they’re often brilliant.), someone who can only make jokes and will forget what they were talking about (chronically…not like every once and a while), someone who is just “emotional” often, and someone who is generally everyone’s favorite person at the party.

But what makes me sad is that the people who make jokes, or say that they have ADHD because they stopped paying attention, or exile people because they don’t think just like they do, often don’t actually understand how lonely it is to have the illness.

So that being said, here is something that I have found very insightful as someone who doesn’t have ADHD, but loves people who do. I hope it’s helpful to you too.

b-adhd-magnet

Written by a child with ADHD:

Take My Hand

Take my hand and come with me
I want to teach you about ADHD
I need you to know, I want to explain,
I have a very different brain
Sights sounds and thoughts collide
What to do first? I can’t decide
Please understand I’m not to blame
I just can’t process things the same

Take my hand and walk with me
Let me show you about ADHD
I try to behave, I want to be good
But I sometimes forget to do as I should
Walk with me and wear my shoes
You’ll see its not the way I’d choose
I do know what I’m supposed to do
But my brain is slow getting the message through

Take my hand and talk with me
I want to tell you about ADHD
I rarely think before I talk
I often run when I should walk
It’s hard to get my school work done
My thoughts are outside having fun
I never know just where to start
I think with my feelings and see with my heart

Take my hand and stand by me
I need you to know about ADHD
It’s hard to explain but I want you to know
I can’t help letting my feelings show
Sometimes I’m angry, jealous or sad
I feel overwhelmed, frustrated and mad
I can’t concentrate and I loose all my stuff
I try really hard but it’s never enough

Take my hand and learn with me
We need to know more about ADHD
I worry a lot about getting things wrong
everything I do takes twice as long
everyday is exhausting for me
Looking through the fog of ADHD
I’m often so misunderstood
I would change in a heartbeat if I could

Take my hand and listen to me
I want to share a secret about ADHD
I want you to know there is more to me
I’m not defined by it you see
I’m sensitive, kind and lots of fun
I’m blamed for things I haven’t done
I’m the loyalist friend you’ll ever know
I just need a chance to let it show

Take my hand and look at me
Just forget about the ADHD
I have real feelings just like you
The love in my heart is just as true
I may have a brain that can never rest
But please understand I’m trying my best
I want you to know, I need you to see
I’m more than the label, I am still me!!!!

By Andrea Chesterman-Smith

…because love wins.

Why you should let people go.

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A little while ago there was an app called “Who Deleted Me?” It was designed by Anthony Kuske, whose Twitter profile says he’s from the UK and “makes websites and stuff.” This app was one of those things. The purpose of said app was to do just that – tell people who had deleted them on facebook.

Facebook is a weird, strange, awesome, and dumb thing all at once. We get to connect with anyone virtually anywhere around the world. But at the same time, we can also see all kinds of things that are left to our own imagination. Because let’s be honest – no one is as happy as their profile picture all of the time. And thinking they are can ruin your life.

So then what do we do when one of our used-to-be best friends decides they’re done and we’re not friends anymore? And then what happens when you find that out through a crazy little app? Well, if you cared, it probably sucks pretty badly. If you don’t, you’ll probably have an easier time with what I’m about to say.

If someone doesn’t want to love you, or be your friend, or doesn’t build you up even when they are your friend, it’s time to let them go. Yeah, not that easy, right? Well, it sort of is.

Why would you want to be friends with an enemy you have? Would you call up the kid who picked on you in second grade and ask them to be your best friend? No, I certainly don’t think you would. Sorry to say, but when your friend walked away (and in a dramatic way like a facebook delete to prove a point without a real conversation) they entered the same category. Either they didn’t appreciate you, or they think they will have a better life elsewhere.

I’ve had people die in my life, and I’ve had people walk away. When I was younger, both destroyed me. Now, only death hurts me. Because I only keep camp with the people who I really know love me and who will let me love them back. And it’s okay to know that someone walking away isn’t your fault. It’s the walking person’s fault.

So, if they walked away, don’t chase them. And don’t let them come back. If they cared, and they were someone to want around, they never would have left to begin with. You’re worth more than being someone’s option. They chose to have you let them go, so let them go. And don’t apologize for knowing your worth.

Strong is beautiful – you are beautiful. Smile and do something you love. Because you weren’t worth letting go.

quote

…because love wins.

17 things I learned in the 17 years since I was diagnosed with childhood cancer.

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March 11, 1998.

We never forget the days that change our lives. We never forget the moments that change our lives, as a matter of fact. I had one of those on that day. I haven’t forgotten it. I never will.

I had been walking with a limp for about 3 weeks. I was a totally healthy, vivacious, excited little girl. Here’s a picture!

Age 6. :)

Age 6. 🙂

See? Right? Totally healthy. But that knee pain I had wouldn’t go away.

On March 11th, 7:35am, I was walking to the school bus. About halfway there, I fell down. There was a serious sharp pain in my left knee. I remember thinking I didn’t want to look dumb (classic 3rd grade thought process) and it hurt. A lot a lot a lot. The bus was waiting, and it was a shorter distance to get on the bus than to go home, so I got on the bus. I went through my day, limping along, trying not to walk. I have no idea how I was even moving at all.

We had an appointment scheduled with my family doctor that afternoon. When I walked into the office, he told me that he hadn’t seen anyone ever limp like that. The reason? My femur was shattered. The reason?

Bone cancer.

I was 7 years old. I played basketball and giggled and tried to avoid going to sleep at night.

Cancer?

CANCER?

The next day started 49 weeks of chemotherapy, the removal of my leg and a procedure called Rotationplasty (You can learn about that here.) and way too many sharp needles, anesthesia and brokenhearted moments than I can consciously remember or that I should have had to go through as a human being, regardless of age.

So, in honor of the days that I have lived (happily) since then, I want to share with you 17 things that I have learned since March 11, 1998.

1. Life is short. 
Not in the cliche, “Yeah, people say that all the time…” way, but in the “Don’t wait until someone you love is dead in a car accident before you figure this out.” way. Seriously, it can all end right now, and you need to not worry what everyone thinks of you or feel bad when people don’t like you. Choose the way you want to live those short days and then do that. Live, please.

2. Kids die. 
And it sucks. It sucks way worse than someone who has lived to 80 years-old dying. I’m not saying any one life is more important than another, but I am telling you that burying my best friends (4 of them) by the age of 12 is horrendous and wrong. It’s so so so so wrong. Parents should not have to live all the years their kids were supposed to without them. Which leads me to…

3. There is a pathetic amount of money allotted for childhood cancer research. 
I had 49 weeks of poison (chemotherapy) that potentially ruined my heart, potentially took my ability to have children, and certainly made me throw up burning vomit way too many times. The saddest part is that it’s been 17 years and kids today are still taking the exact same awful drugs. With an 80% survival rate. (Which I would say is definitely much lower than 80.) And they haven’t figured out why a lot of my friends never lived and I did. There aren’t many people who took this stuff and grew into adulthood, so there’s not really a way for me to know what my future related to this stuff will bring. Please help. Follow this facebook page and do what it says: TheTruth365.

4. Haters are gonna hate.
There is a saying that goes something like, “In the world people are going to hate you, and people are going to love you, and none of it has anything to do with you.” People make bad choices when they’re mad or scared or stressed. (Thanks, Frozen!) So be graceful and don’t worry too much.

5. God is everywhere. 
You just have to let yourself listen. Even when the truth hurts. Especially when the truth hurts.

6. Illness isn’t terrifying.
Sometimes it is, I suppose, but for anyone who is the friend of someone with a chronic or serious illness, don’t leave said person or family alone. And don’t be upset if they want space or you say the wrong thing. But answer the phone at 2am, expect nothing, give real hugs, and be willing to be whatever they need.

7. You should love yourself. 
There is a complex that tends to come after someone has been through a near-death experience which includes putting everyone else first. And then putting everyone else first until that person is basically dead from never paying attention to themselves. So it’s good to take care of yourself. Paint and laugh and don’t let people use you. You deserve the best too.

8. I am handicapped. 
Lots of people are. In fact, we all are – face the fact. We all have something really wrong with our broken souls. And I think that’s a really important thing to remember when someone can’t help themselves and you have the opportunity to love them.

9. It’s not easy to talk about pain. 
I’m a professional speaker, but that doesn’t mean that it’s easy to talk through the agony that I experienced. There’s this fine line between people wanting to hear the truth and people thinking you’re asking for pity by sharing what you’ve felt. Pay no attention to those people. If you have pain, talk about it. If they choose not to listen, they lose.

10. People won’t always leave, and they won’t always leave you.
There’s my greatest fear. Now you know that. (Yay vulnerable!) I’m sure this grew from holding my friends’ hands while they died and thinking I would never be fully understood again, but in the years since that and some wonderful people in my life, I have learned that people won’t always leave. And I have learned that some people really really want to stay and love me if I let them be inside my heart. Give people a chance.

11. Healthy food isn’t just a fad. Tubing 2
Having a life threatening illness was pretty awful. But it also benefited me in great ways. Because I don’t like toxins because of that experience, I avoid them. And I am pretty particular about taking care of myself with what I put inside my body. And I know I live a more full, happier life because of it. Eat less Doritos and more broccoli. It’s worth it!

12. Downtime is not wasted time.
I laid in my bed for a really long time when I was sick. Like, about a year. And it’s clear that that time has not been wasted, even though I was doing nothing for 49 weeks. You’re human. Slow down. Life will come to you.

13. Sometimes hope just doesn’t feel real. 
There will be times in your life where you can’t hope. Where you realize that the thing that you have been hoping for for so long just isn’t going to happen. And that’s okay. Give up, cry, get mad, do whatever you need to do. Just because we don’t think there is hope doesn’t mean there isn’t. And it doesn’t mean that the days won’t get brighter again. They will.

14. Tie your brain to your heart. 
If you want to do something that really helps people, don’t just dream. Figure out what skills you need to tangibly do the work. For example, if you want to travel the world and feed homeless, start learning languages now. If you want to start a business, learn how to start a business. And then put your heart into your intellect.

15. Don’t take boredom for granted. 
I remember being 15 and telling my parents I was bored. But then I realized that I may be bored because my life is just okay at that time. And it’s not falling apart. And that means there’s goodness – and that’s not boring at all.

16. Bad things can still be bad years later, but they don’t have to rule you. 
I realize that there are some things from cancer which totally left me with PTSD. That’s the reality for my life, and I’ve accepted it. That’s pretty lame, but so are tsunamis, and I haven’t been through one of those. And some other people have to accept them in their lives. So it’s okay to not like things that happened to you. But that doesn’t mean they are in your now, or that they will take you down. Nah, there’s always healing, and always growth. And you’re good now. Just learn and live.

17. Jesus loves you. Jesus
I have tried this one out. I have searched the depth of my heart and society many times. I have watched people die, kids without parents in hospitals, and kids around the world who have no medical care and die just because of that. And there is still love – and love is the currency we should really use. Jesus is the only way to God, and there is one God, and He is Jesus’ father. And you know what? Whether you know it or not, He loves you. And He’s going to come back. Don’t wait to talk to him until your life doesn’t make sense anymore. Someone will always, always love you.

Here’s to 17 more years!

Love to you all.

…because love wins.

What loving someone with ADHD has taught me about being like Jesus.

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Hi there. A preface – ADHD is kinda like this:

ADHD

The love of my life has ADHD.

That means that he can’t pay attention to what he wants to when he wants to.
That means that he can’t think through what will happen if he says what he’s thinking sometimes.
That means that he can’t sit still and listen to one voice for hours.
That means that he can’t always calm down his anxiety, because he can’t see clearly enough.
That means that for years he was treated poorly.
That means he thinks much less of himself than he should.
That means that he’s a brilliant man, who hasn’t always been able to live freely in that.
That means that he’s a person. A wonderful, wonderful, incredible person, with an illness.

ADHD is hard. Anyone who says that it isn’t or that it’s just a great benefit to their persona has probably not been treated, or hasn’t been stopped to be shown what their lives could be. I am not inferring that people cannot live life and be happy with ADHD. I am just saying that I stand in the position that a person with ADHD can’t know they need help because they don’t know how much better they could use their gifts if they actively treated their ADHD. Without being shown, that is. Jesus helped the sick. As we all should.

—

I used to be incredibly annoyed by people with ADHD. Like most people, I had no idea what it really was. I’ve made plenty of jokes about not being able to pay attention, and calling that ADHD. I used to think people with it were tactless, weren’t raised right, or had parents who just didn’t know how to discipline them. Or that they just talked more than I could handle. Of course, that can also be the case, but most of the time, it isn’t. It’s just being human with a brain with ADHD, and me wanting my life to be more comfortable.

Then I met this man.

He totally annoyed me. In fact, I knew that he had untreated ADHD, and I didn’t want to date him because of that. (I know, look at me thinking only inside the box.) I had had a few intimate relationships that didn’t go well and the other in those relationships blamed ADHD. I just didn’t really want to walk down that path again. But then I never went away, and he never went away, and it became something “we” faced rather than something just “he” faced.

I know what ADHD is now. And it’s not his fault. Nor is it his choice. Had I gone away, I wouldn’t have grown in my faith (the whole point of life) the way I have. And I would have missed the most fun, challenging, crazy, awesome, beautiful adventure of the past couple years. So I’m really glad I didn’t. And I’m glad I’ve learned these things:

—

1) Jesus is patient. I thought I was a lot more patient than I inherently am. 
Myyyy goooooodness, don’t pray for patience unless you want to learn how to be patient. And don’t expect to be able to handle medication trials and irrational anxiety really well if you’re not Jesus. Because I’m not Jesus, and handling those things are (were) really difficult. I definitely thought I was a patient person. And in some ways I was. Namely, when I fully understood situations, I was waiting in line or looking cool on a summer day. But when it comes to MY personal time, I wasn’t the best at that. Jesus is working on it. Thanks, ADHD!

2) I definitely apparently really don’t have a clue what is best for me. Jesus does. 
This fits well with the patience lesson as well. I didn’t exactly plan on having ADHD in my life forever. I was going to have a perfectly calm household where we ate nice popcorn in our perfectly clean living room each night. Where we each have 5 best friends and no tears. Nice ironed clothes and lots of perfect energy. Haha. That’s a little dramatic. But I wasn’t envisioning that we’d get to come up with awesome ways to work around forgetfulness for all of our life. But I also didn’t imagine having someone who wants to dance with me in the kitchen like a fool all the time either. See, Jesus knows better than me. And being organized is really actually super fun. Color coated post-it notes anyone?

3) Jesus makes people awesome. And as Christians in America, we’re bad at seeing that sometimes. 
One of the most challenging pieces for someone with mental illness of any kind is social interaction. I find that Christians (Sorry for saying this outright if it offends you.) are definitely cool with you being around as long as you’re working to “overcome” your issues by “letting Jesus have it.” When every issue is a spiritual one and they can just read the Bible and it should go away. And as long as we can all meet over coffee and they don’t have to deal with you crying, or being anxious, or fidgeting while you’re talking to them. But that’s not what Jesus did with the lady who touched his robe. He knelt down and talked with her. Just something I’ve learned that we can all do better – stop thinking that people are how they act. And sometimes we need medical care. That’s Jesus too. It’s just my job to show up and love. Not say how people need to be outright.

4) Jesus is LOTS of fun. 
Seriously. If you want to know that Jesus is fun, just try to get your brain to do something that it can’t. Usually it won’t work. But there’s always room to laugh. Everything doesn’t have to be straight laced and “perfect” to be absolutely wonderful. And sometimes the sheer unexpectedness of ADHD makes life lots of fun. I definitely see Jesus in new ways I wouldn’t have been able to before.

5) I cannot rely on my significant other to be my strength. But I can rely on Jesus. 
There have been lots of times when Ray wasn’t able to give me the attention that I needed because he just couldn’t. He didn’t try to be that way. He wasn’t a man that was just zoning out. He just couldn’t because his brain didn’t let him. And that was almost more annoying than just being able to blame someone. So I had to just go sit down with Jesus and let Him be who He was. And you know what? I’ve learned a lot about grace and Jesus’ love for me. And I’m so thankful for that.

6) Praying needs to always happen. 
ADHD has taught me to pray. And then pray some more. And some more. And some more. And to keep praying. And I’ll continue. Cuz it changes everything and makes the impossible possible. I prayed for healing for Ray. God sent me and taught me to be supportive and kind. Healing is happening.

—

I’ve learned tons, as we both have, but there’s a short version of what’s on the plate these days. We’ve been blessed to find some meds that work, and have been able to work through a lot of healing because of that medication slowing things down for us. And life is a lot less crazy. But I promise, there are going to be more crazy days. And those are going to teach me about Jesus, and love too.

I’m excited for that.

…because love wins.

I must dance. You must dance, too.

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She stands behind the curtain, looking at the piercing eyes in the crowd. She could back down, she could hide from the stares and the judgement, and the knowledge that she will inevitably mess up this routine. She will probably fall. It won’t be perfect. 

And they expect perfect. 

“Can I do this? Will my leg even hold out? I haven’t ever tried such a thing.” 

“Dance,” God says. 

“But how?” 

“Dance with me,” He says again quietly – strong. In a way that almost demands to be trusted. 

“No one taught me how. I can’t dance like everyone else.” 

“But you follow the beat I put in you. You need to dance. You’re My music.” He whispers. His eyes are strong – confident. 

“I can trust Him. He knows my steps,” she says to herself. 

—

Out she steps. 

Just alone out here. 

The music starts. 

A slow, gentle, beat, as she has learned like should be – slow and gentle. 

One step, and then another. Some quick steps. A magical spin under the moving orange lights. The air is crisp, and the audience silent. 

She starts to see the life events show up on the dance floor. 

A sick child – she floats to take his hand, and brings the music to him. Soon he is smiling a most magnificent smile. 

An illness in the family – she ducks for the challenge it is to get to that ill person, but finds that music unlocks the doors to stop her from helping. Healing comes in a brilliant soft white light.

Jobs, pain, rainy days – No need to face them. They resolve themselves as she floats around them and her light shine upon them fast. 

And it occurs to her – 

“I dance to my own life. That’s my own beat. I know exactly how to dance. My life is my dance. He made this. I cannot fail if I try.” 

—

God steps out onto one side of the stage, opposite of where she took her place. She sees those obstacles that are life between her and Him. But she also sees that wherever He steps, those obstacles minimize to a beautiful piece of the stage – highlighting her special steps in brilliant colors. Her favorites – making her dance more freely still. 

He guides her. A hand motion there, a step there. Pointing, carrying, dancing right along. 

She’s forgotten all about the people who were once her fear, and her eyes, heart, and soul, are locked with Him. 

—

The stage is now covered in the most beautiful flowers. Open paths. Wide spaces, where she is entirely free. The obstacles are gone. And as He spins her like she spun as a 2 year old, He gestures to the audience. 

She stops, and takes a step towards them. The lights come up on those faces. She gasps a soft breath. Every single one is someone who has come alive because of her dance. They were strangers at one time, but she now sees them all clearly. 

Best friends. Acquaintances. Used-to-be enemies. Mom, dad, kids, boyfriend.

Everyone someone she has danced into the life of.

This is her life. This is her stage. It’s important.

And it’s magnificent.

—

She beams, and takes a seat on the edge of the stage. God stands proudly and in a lovely way behind her. Tears fill her eyes. She didn’t know how to dance, she thought. She didn’t know where she would step, she thought.

“But He made the music in me know where to dance.”

“And it was the performance each of these souls needed to see to bring them to life,” He says.

—

And she knew from that point forward that our purpose in life is to dance. To dance, just as we know how. And we all learn together with each step. 

Our lives are His symphony.  

…because love wins. Â