Twinkle Toes

The black leather bucket chair which had been cool when I first sat down was causing me to sweat as I squirmed. My foot was bouncing up and down nervously; I slap-patted my thigh just like my mother does when she is highly emotional. Tears marked a path down my cheeks as I tried to explain to my counselor how I do not want to make a decision out of fear, that I’m tired of living a life guided by fear. But the fear looms so large and seemingly insurmountable. I want to live a life of faith, of radical, obedient faith, but the fear grips my heart and squeezes tight. I feel paralyzed. Much of my life has been dictated by fear. While God has been gracious to me, I don’t regret the choices and paths I’ve taken, but I do wonder sometimes “what if?” It isn’t helpful, I try to avoid hypothesizing what my life would be like if I had fought through the fear for what seemed like first choice. What if I had applied to Wheaton’s Conservatory of Music? I still doubt whether I would have gotten in, but what if I had? And if I didn’t get stopped by the fear of failing at my dream, of moving far away from home, going to unknown mid-west lands? What if I hadn’t been fearful about moving across the country and quitting the job I had been at for one month and applied to Gordon-Cromwell Seminary? Instead I went to Western, which was good and I don’t regret my time there, but how would life be different if I had gone to Boston? What relationships have I let slip away because I feared to be myself, to be open, to share myself? Fear. Fear of failure. Fear of rejection. Fear of the unknown. Fear of being known. Fear of change. Fear of hurt. So much fear. I am certain that fear is the main weapon Satan uses to intimidate me. It has been a powerful shaping force in my life, and I fear what my life will be like if I allow it to continue influencing me. 

"If you didn't live by fear, Jennifer, what do you want?"

"I want to live life with gusto!"

I heard myself say it as if someone else had proclaimed it. I sat stunned in wondered silence. Where had that come from? It was exactly what was in my heart that I had not found a way to articulate and express. For years I had been trying to find a way to express my heart cry, the true yearning of my heart as it beat against the cage of fear. The front of my fridge is testament to this, a page from my daily calendar is posted reminding me to "Live Out Loud." Next to it is a bright yellow sticker proclaiming "Live Strong." Rosie the Riveter flexes her arm, showing solidarity that, yes, "We can do it!" My favorite part of the movie "Holiday" is when Kate Winslet's character answers that she has "gumption." While all these resonate with me, they are not my own. What do I want instead of the status quo of living by fear? I want to live with gusto! It feels so good to say it!

2 Timothy 1:7 "for God gave us a spirit not of fear but of power and love and self-control." (ESV)

To live with gusto, means to live attentive to the Holy Spirit prodding me, nudging me, beckoning me to step out of the shadow of fear into the light of faith, depending on my Holy God to lead - and following. The fear of the unknown, not knowing where the next step might lead keeps me rooted in what feels like safety. I recently read or heard from someplace (I would give credit if I could remember or find it) that the lamp referred to in Psalm 119:105 "Your word is a lamp to my feet, and a light to my path." would have been a small clay pot; something about the size of your palm. Something like this:

http://www.trocadero.com/TheAweidahGallery/items/1073505/item1073505store.html

It would fit into your palm, a flame would come out of the 'spout' from the oil within. Can you imagine the amount of light a lamp like this would produce? I think we can all agree the answer is - "not a whole lot." Yet this is what the Psalmist is comparing to God's Word. While His Word illuminates and shows us the path, it only does so for the next step or two, not the next twenty or hundred and twenty. It shows us our feet, we can know the solid ground on which we stand, we can see the immediate area, but the rest remains shrouded - it isn't for us to know just yet. We must trust the Spirit, step forward in faith, follow His leading, one step at a time, stay close to Him - our shepherd, our guide, our Lord - for He will make our paths straight (Proverbs 3:5-6). There is wisdom in this. I often feel as though I have plopped right down in the middle of the path, stubbornly sitting criss-cross applesauce, refusing to budge until God turns on the high-beams and discloses the path for the next 30 years. Yet if He did that, I know I would see things that scare me more than what my imagination can conjure up where I sit now and I would absolutely refuse to budge. But everything comes in its own season. What may happen in 10 years time, will come with 10 years worth of God preparing me to handle it. All things in their time. And it won't all be hardship and misery, for I honestly believe God takes great joy in us and our delight (Jeremiah 29:11; Zephaniah 3:17; Matthew 7:11).

I want to live life with gusto, going after life, living it with passion and fullness, my heart fully engaged. Breaking old habits and patterns to live from my heart is going to take some practice. It starts with Bob like "baby steps." Shortly after my "gusto" revelation I wrote a list of things I want to do in life for a contest.  It seems like a pretty safe list - either far-fetched, or non-threatening, some are maybe a little silly. But there is one item that, for me, will require courage - learning to dance - #26.

When I was 7 years old, I dropped out of ballet class as soon as my mother would let me. I didn't like being the pudgy klutzy kid who didn't get it, and the teacher was mean. The only school dance I went to from 7th grade until 12th was the "50's dance" in junior high that was at the end of the swing dance unit in gym class. In seminary I had a classmate who would host dance lessons in the basement of his church about once a month, teaching us the waltz, foxtrot, swing, and would organize 'outings' to such places as the Norse Lodge for their dances. I thoroughly enjoyed it. Take note - I enjoyed it; that is not the same as being good. I haven't had much opportunity to dance since then. About a year ago I started going to a class at the gym, "Group Groove" (think modern jazzercise). But not before doing several drive-bys, going for a 'regular' workout about the same time as the class so that I could scope it out through the windows, fearful that I would be out of place, make a fool of myself. The first time I went I staked out a spot in the back corner where no one would see all my missteps. The thing is, a year into this class, I have accepted that I do look like a fool, especially when I try (and fail) to do the running man. But also because of my big goofy grin that spreads from ear to ear because I am having so much fun. The joy I experience has overcome the fears and I keep going to class whenever I can.

Yesterday a Groupon showed up in my inbox for ballet lessons. My first impulse was to buy it. I want to learn ballet, I had it on my list. But then I waffled, my seven year old self and all her fears re-emerging; all the insecurities of old bubbling up and splotching out my excitement. What if I was the only adult? What if I have to wear a leotard and tights? (Yikes!) What if I fail, and I'm just as bad now as I was thirty some years ago? What if I'm foolish looking? Fears and obstacles, trapping my heart. Once at work, I looked at the email again. And closed it down. After grabbing my mid-morning coffee I opened the email again and followed the link to the company website. I found a class called "Absolute Beginning Adult Ballet." I might be able to handle this class, I thought. But then I noticed it is only offered on Sunday and a voice told me it was wrong to do something like a ballet class on Sunday, the Sabbath - it is the Lord's day; 'how can you consider doing something like dancing and working out on a holy day?' I closed the email once again. I never deleted the email, just closed it, my heart was yearning to say "yes" to this opportunity. It wasn't long before I opened the email again, looked at the class listing one more time - yup, still only Sunday - but why should that matter in this instance? I would go hiking on a Sunday. I regularly do races on a Sunday. I fill my Sundays with busyness that is anything but holy. If I do believe that God rejoices in our delight, why wouldn't this be a perfectly wonderful thing to do on a Sunday? Here is an opportunity that will give me joy, delight, and in a strange way help to loosen the shackles of fear around my heart; give me practice at stepping out of the worries and bindings of fear and into my heart desires. A baby step. Or, perhaps, a "glissade en avant" (yeah, I looked that up online) towards living a more open, heart driven life - living with gusto.

I opened up the email one more time and clicked "purchase." A moment later I nearly skipped down the hall as I went to refill my water bottle, grinning the whole way. I am going to take ballet lessons! And if I have to wear a leotard and tights, I'm getting a tutu as well!

Wherever I go - even into ballet class!