bluebirduncaged Things I'm learning

still

Drowning.
The water swirls; I gasp for air
My arms slap the surface and my legs kick frantically
Tired. Spent. Muscles fatigued. Mind exhausted.
But I must keep fighting.

Fighting gives me purpose.
Fighting fills the void.
Fighting gives me somewhere to expend energy.
Fighting distracts me.

The current takes me.
Downstream. I can't help it.
There's nothing to grab on to.
No embankments. I splash. Swept away.

For a split second I stop fighting.
Where's the current?
Floating. I don't sink.
I look around. Quiet waters.
There's nothing to fight.

Jesus.

Sunshine sparkles.
Birds sing sweetly.
I feel solid rock underneath my feet.
He takes hold of my hand.

He is my purpose.
He fills the void.
He is the source of energy.
He keeps me focused.

Jesus will fight for me.
I need only be still. Green pastures.
Paths of righteousness.
For His Name's sake.

be still and know that I am God. ~Ps. 46:10

 

...for His name's sake

bluebirduncaged Things I'm learning

today –> one day

Sometimes my brain likes to jump ahead and imagine scenarios that are possible but completely improbable when viewed in light of the current situation.

Example: earlier this week, I spent 15 minutes looking at flight/wardrobe cases in custom colors for when Bluebird tours an original, full length production around the world–probably not happening any time soon. I have to remind myself to rein it in; or sometimes other people do that for me.

It’s fun to imagine big things for the future. It’s inspiring, motivating. It keeps the dream alive (and sometimes makes me so giddy I can’t sleep). But just as much as worry distracts us, dwelling on the “one day” can cause us to be blind to the “today.” 

From the flight cases, I jumped to designing costumes for a future children’s ballet. Rapidly sending texts to Mommy as thoughts cross my mind. “One week at a time” appears in the next gray bubble and she gently reminds me that I have a show this weekend. Right. Rein it in, Rebekah. Being instead of doing. 

There’s something between our imagination and things coming to fruition called reality. It’s tempting to blame the state of our current situation on “not being there yet” but big dreams come with responsibility. 

Reality is the now. 
Reality is today. 
Today is the responsibility. 

Today. Now, is all we have under our control.

The “one day” is actually the result of baby steps taken in faithful, courageous obedience. Reality is made up of the opportunities and decisions that need to be made at the current moment. It’s preparing for the “one day” What books do I need to read/classes do I need to take/who do I need to reach out to? 

Stewarding today well will take us to the "one day". Those impossible and improbable scenarios might become the current situation. Or the “one day” might look nothing like the pictures in our head. Yet if it’s a dream molded by God and the “today” is spent seeking His heart in courageous obedience, it’s guaranteed to be amazing. 

 

How are you going to leverage your today for the one day?

PS–the show this weekend is Georgia Ballet's world premiere of Alexandre Proia's Four Seasons. Click below for more info

GAB 4 seasons

bluebirduncaged Things I'm learning

moldable dreams

We all have ideas about what our future will look like. The ones further along the timeline, we call dreams. 

I dreamed about dancing on pointe. I dreamed about wearing a tutu. When I listen to the Grand Pas music from Nutcracker, I dream about dancing it one day. I dream about touring an original production with Bluebird. I dream about what the next generation of Jesus following art/artists looks like. 

Dreams are good. Dreams bring us hope. They give us something to work toward. They’re a romanticized, more flexible version of goals. 

It’s when we become so locked in to our version of the picture and how to get there that we run into trouble. We start to block God out and treat the dream like a goal (getting there by our own sheer strength). 

We think He’ll take it away if we loosen our grip and stop micromanaging. What if God tells me to stop dancing altogether? He might…but refusing to let Him direct our steps is an act of rebellion. It’s sin.  

Holding on to dreams is being selfish with our story. It’s refusing to be fully engaged in God’s story. 

Dreams aren’t meant to be bucket-lists. They should be like our lives and hearts–pieces of clay in the hands of the Potter. Jesus has dreams for us too. May He mold our dreams and desires to His. The pruning process will be painful; what we think we want might not be what we really want. But in the end, He’ll blow our minds and we won’t be disappointed. Because when we connect our little stories to the Jesus story our hearts are fueled with purpose. 

 

Jesus, we want to be fully engaged in your story. Mold these dreams and desires to yours.  Even if we’re scared of handing over these pictures in our minds, we want to want to surrender. Teach us to trust. May we believe you when you say you are a God of immeasurably more. Let us be fulfilled in Your purposes and dreams for our little stories. 

 
bluebirduncaged Things I'm learning

Things I learned in 2013

  • Faithful is He who has called you and He will also bring it to pass ~1 Thess. 5:24
  • How to cut a bell pepper 
  • His grace will equip us for what we are called to do (and sometimes that "equipping" comes in the moment)
  • It's possible to live your dreams
  • singing "Trading My Sorrows" is more fun in Spanish
  • Obedience yields fruit–but we don't have to see it and the seeds might be planted in a storm
  • what it takes to organize and produce a stage production
  • Sometimes you just have to fearlessly press 'send' (1 of many examples)

 …a year of grace, faithfulness and immeasurably more.

bluebirduncaged Ballet, My Life, Things I'm learning

growing

There’s a creative movement exercise I do with little ones where we pretend to be a seed in the ground. After a rainstorm, Mr. Sunshine dries the dirt on top of us and we send our fingers into the space above us to grow into a beautiful flower, spinning slowly and opening our petals. Looking back on 2013 this is almost a picture of my journey. Seeds of obedience, planted in the storm finally blooming in vibrant color.  

I began 2013 at a low point. Things weren’t looking the way I had envisioned in my head. Yes, Bluebird was growing and taking off (often this is what kept me going) but personally, I felt stuck. I knew I was supposed to be dancing yet as I looked at my career, I was discouraged. 

In my mind, I hadn’t “made it” yet. Was I ever going to get a contract? To me, that piece of paper validated that I was a “real” dancer. My identity as a dancer was found in a paycheck. 

”That’s not the point" God whispered, “You are no more or less of a dancer because of a signature on a dotted line. You are a dancer because I called you to be. Let me use you where you are.” It took a few months for this to sink in.

At the same time, I was in the process of finding a healthier dance environment. The Georgia Ballet had hired a new artistic director (whom I love and previously took classes from in NYC) and I began taking company class. In June, Alex said he would be happy to hire me but because of financial reasons, it would only be project based. 

Still no contract. But for the first time I was ok with that. Because the title “company artist” doesn’t define me–God does. He gave me the gift of dance and knows where it will bring His name the most glory–whether it be in the lobby of Egelston, the stage of the Cobb Energy Center, or the rainforest of Panama. 

The first class back after returning from Panama, I was stretching when one of administrative staff came to the doorway of the studio. “Rebekah, this is for you,” she handed me a manila envelope. It was a contract!! 

As I’m in this season of seeing the fruit of obedience, soaking up the sunshine and enjoying the blue skies, His faithfulness leaves me in awe. Like that seed planted in the storm, watered by the driving rain, made strong by resisting the wind. The growing process hurts but His grace is enough. Hang on. Keep going. Obedience is worth it. He who called you is faithful and will bring it to pass. 

bluebirduncaged for artists, Things I'm learning

audience

As Jesus following artists, we often talk about our Audience of One. God is our only audience, His opinion is the only one that matters, we don’t need to dance to impress people or gain their approval. 

True. Completely valid. I totally agree. But what about the physical audience? We are pursuing a performing art in which “success” is based primarily on visual aesthetics and personal opinion.  

Sometimes it’s hard to reconcile these two ideas. On one hand, if God is our only audience, why don’t we just put on a show for an empty auditorium? Or are we supposed to go into our closets to dance like we’re supposed to pray? But on the the other, wouldn’t that be like putting our light under a bowl if we’re called to use our gifts for His glory?

I confess sometimes I’ve thought shouldn’t care about the audience. Yet that’s pretty much impossible. They’re sitting right there–artistic staff judging your readiness for the next role, teacher scrutinizing technique and coaching you towards perfection, peers either cheering you on or waiting for you to get injured, your family proud to know someone on stage, or some random person who paid upwards of $50 to sit in a seat for two hours. It seems kind of wrong to just not care about them. 

We’re coming at it from the wrong angle

The curtain goes up but the wall is still there. Pride makes us think we have something to offer them; a service they might benefit from. An “us” and “them” mentality cultivates a sense of superiority and comparison. We feel good about all those years of training and flex our muscles in satisfaction. In reality, our art is just another channel of communication. It’s a language. A conversation. 

From isolation to community.

Beyond the footlights, is a collection of human beings just like us. Precious souls behind every pair of eyes glistening in the blackness. Souls that have an eternity ahead of them. Souls that need hope. Hearts that need mending. Walls that need to be torn down. Wounds that need to be healed. Confidence that needs to be restored. If we’ve really experienced His love and grace, how could we not care about them?  

Art is a medium of exchange–our language. The choreography is the structure of the conversation and the performance is an invitation. An invitation into a BIGGER story, the greatest story ever told, the JESUS story! 

Because He has redeemed us we do have something to offer–hope! Not through pride, training, or knowledge gained by study but through humility. In offering our lives to the King as an empty vessel, He fills us that we might be used to offer His abundant life to others and make His name famous. 

Yes, God is our Audience of One but we have a physical audience as well. May you dance [create] not to impress but to engage. May you offer yourself that they might experience His love, beauty, and goodness. Extend the invitation into the JESUS story, that they might join this Divine Dance with our Maker.

bluebirduncaged Bluebird: uncaged, Things I'm learning, Travel

When dreams collide

 “What do you want to be when you grow up?” “A missionary!” my eight-year-old self enthusiastically replied. 

 “So, what do you want to do with your life?” “I want to bring hope and dignity through dance and invite people into a story greater than their own–the story of Jesus” my twenty-one-year-old self would reply. 

I guess my answer hasn’t really changed much. 

When I was eight, I imagined myself sharing Jesus in a foreign country (one in particular but it shall remain unnamed). Maybe translating scripture in the jungle or living in a trash heap like Daddy’s former college roommate, or dodging the government with an underground Bible study.

Yet as I got older, I realized being a “missionary” wasn’t always defined by where you lived or what you did. In eighth grade, I was reminded by a dear teacher, Mr. Gilchrist, that we are called to “make disciples as you are going” and sometimes that meant staying in the same location on the planet. For the time being, I knew my “mission field” was where I was physically present at the moment. More specifically, I knew it was the dance world. 

The desire to GO didn’t leave. But as much as I wanted to serve internationally, I didn’t just want to jump on the next plane to _______ (fill in the blank). God simply hadn’t said “Go” yet. I have yet to travel beyond the borders of the United States of America. 

In the past few years, as God has honed the vision for Bluebird, the desire to serve internationally has been rekindled. The idea started seriously bouncing around in my head last summer. What if we could somehow combine dance and serving the nations? In January, He confirmed that it was time to go.

So here I am, about to go to Panama on Thursday. Two dreams, seemingly on opposite ends of the spectrum, seamlessly colliding into a beautiful explosion of grace. I’m in awe. He is faithful. 

bluebirduncaged Things I'm learning

choosing grace

choosing grace

Grace, it means “favor,” from the Latin gratia. It connotes a free readiness. A free and ready favor. That’s grace. It is one thing to choose to take the grace offered at the cross. But to choose to live as one filling with His grace? Choosing to fill with all that He freely gives and fully live–with glory and grace and God?
I know it but I don’t want to: it is a choice. 
~Ann Voskamp One Thousand Gifts 

 

 

I say I’m extending grace to others. And I feel like I am…
                                                                       …but I’m withholding grace from myself.

She didn’t set her alarm and totally missed the class we said we would go to together. I tell her it’s ok, we’ll find another time. 

It’s three days before and realize I need a sub. I call eight people on the sub list and no one can do it. Emails, phone calls, and texts are flying. Ugh, why do I do this to myself? I should have asked for the schedule from my other commitment earlier. I should have called so and so first. I should have, I should have,…why don’t I have it all together?  

It’s a pride thing. We like to think we don’t need someone else’s favor. Sometimes it seems like pity. We like to get it right the first time. And when someone else messes up, we say it’s okay because at least it wasn’t us. It makes us feel better, more important, like we have it all together. 

Steve Brown writes, “The desire for perfection indicates the presence in us of something or someone who has given us that desire.” The desire to please drives our motivation. And when that motivation comes from something or someone outside of God, we’re always going to fall short. 

We forget that He has already perfected us. Our focus zeros in on the small story and we miss the BIGGER one–the story of radical grace. We have a choice: zoom out and accept the grace extended to us or keep striving towards the temporary acceptance of human beings.  

We can only give as much as we have received. And if we refuse to fully receive, how can we fully give? I have to think that we will never be able to give grace to others until we find the freedom of true grace ourselves. 

That means letting go of the smaller story. It’s the realization that in our pursuit of excellence, we will fall short, we will disappoint people, we will not always have answers. But in that realization there is rest, there is freedom, there is grace–because we know that our perfection does not lie in the outward facade of having it all together but in the One who holds it all together.  

 May you choose grace. 

But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness" ~2 Corinthians 12:9

bluebirduncaged My Life, Things I'm learning

within the storm

14

From a birds' eye view, you would only see me. Standing on that rock.  

Rock, black, flash of gray, driving rain. That's all I see. What'sahead, I don't know. 

The rock is like an island–a pedestal would best describe it. Hard. Solid under my feet. 

My strong tower. 

I see nothing but darkness beyond the surrounding 6 ft radius of slippery, cracked wetness–like an abyss. It's raining–hard. Black clouds roll and swirl above. Lightning turns the world gray for a split second. I'm lonely. 

 …but never alone 

A gust of wind tugs me into its current. Thunder rumbles and I hear the rain calling. Reminding me of all the unanswered questions. Taunting. Whispering doubt. 

…Your rod and Your staff comfort me

The driving rain beats down. I can't feel it. I'm not getting wet. I'm not scared. Giant arms encircle me and pull me close.

The shadow of the Almighty; a shield about me. 

My head rests against a muscular chest. Warmth radiates through my tired bones as I hear the heartbeat of my Abba. 

Peace. Perfect peace that surpasses understanding. 

The storm still rages yet inside it is calm. I know who goes before me. 

In Him I find my hope. 
I find my rest.
Confidence.
Trust.
Bittersweet joy.

Peace, perfect peace.