I've been a dancer for 14 years (since I was two), and ballet has always been my favorite style of dance.
Ever since I started, I've been watching the girls "en pointe", and dreaming of one day getting to be there myself.
I wanted to be a professional dancer since I can remember, whether that be as a Radio City Rockette, a ballerina, or even just a dance teacher; and I spent most of my life pursuing that dream.
Around 2014, I switched to a professional dance studio, in hopes of making that dream a reality, and had my first recital with them in 2016.
However, when I was there... I saw everything that the girls went through. I saw how strict and honestly mean some of the instructors were. I saw the way they had the girls move, and the songs they had them dancing to...
Girls so skinny they were probably anorexic, and people encouraging them to remain that way...
Boys in the same dressing room as girls...
Gossip galore...
Layer upon layer of makeup, caked onto the face of a child...
and everything about that environment didn't settle well with me.
I'm not saying professional dance is bad, nor am I judging anyone who does it.
Just this specific studio that I was at made me see that it's not always as glamorous as it appears.
After the recital was over, I made the decision to give up on that dream.
I cried a lot over it, and it was a very hard thing for me to do.
But I couldn't shake that feeling, in my spirit, that this lifestyle wasn't in God's plan for me.
I didn't understand why He'd be so cruel as to make me give up something I loved so dearly, and had wanted since I was small...
But nevertheless, I did it.
Because something inside of me told me the story wasn't over yet.
That fall, I started taking ballet lessons with my theatre group.
I didn't want to do all the recitals and competitions anymore, I just wanted a laid-back environment where I could improve my technique.
Well, God had something better in mind, because my teacher turned out to be a professional ballerina.
And guess what some of the more advanced female students were wearing in it?
Pointe shoes.
I spent the summer of 2017 working harder than I've ever worked before, in hopes of getting my strength up, and in March of this year, I asked my teacher if she thought there was a possibility that I could ever do pointe...
And this past Monday, I got my pointe shoes.
So why do I write this novel of a blog post?
Most of you probably are not ballerinas, and most of you probably have already heard this story before.
Well, I write because I realized, on the morning I went to get fitted, that God knew this day was coming all along.
He let me give up my dream, He let me cry, He let me doubt and ask Him why over and over again...
But He knew what He was doing all along.
I can just imagine the smile on His face when I went up on those shoes for the first time (and every time from here on out).
I can see Him, looking at me with those deep, loving eyes; on the day of that recital, saying to me, "Child... If you only knew what's coming."
And those images make me stop and think... What else is coming?
Those times when I ask Him why I'm having such a hard time finding a job... He lets me cry, but He knows what's coming.
Those times when I tell Him I'm not strong enough to go on... He lets me cry, but He knows what's coming.
Those times when I vent to Him about how no guy could ever be interested in me... He lets me cry,
but He knows what's coming.
Those times when tears fall on my textbooks... He lets me cry, but He knows what's coming.
And every time I come to lay a dream at His feet, He lets me cry...
But He knows what's coming.
And how beautiful is it to think that He's known all along?
Keep on pressing on.
Because, in point of fact...
What's coming is worth it.
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