Open Doors

Not sure why, but I always associated college graduation with closing the chapter on the huge chunk of my life titled, Dance.

I didn’t earn a dance degree; I figured I would enjoy the break from an intense dance schedule, and it’s not like I was ever going to be a professional dancer. Wasn’t born with the right hips or arches. Just for fun, I participated in the dance concert my freshman year at Berry College, and by the end of the year I’d committed to the dance team as well. Junior year I would increase the load, as I took a choreography course and began to further explore this passion through the vulnerability of asking gorgeous dancers to move and express as I do. I couldn’t have been more proud of this experience as a story I had to tell turned into choreography and took the Rome City Auditorium stage for the 2008 spring dance concert.

In my last season with the Berry Dance Troupe, I lived and breathed dance once again – performing in nearly every piece that took the stage that weekend, including two of my own. I mourned the loss of my greatest love, assuming that once the curtain closed on our final performance, it would be my last bow as a performer and choreographer.

Graduation. Move to Charlotte. Real World.

I taught ballet and tap part-time at a YMCA, so that I could stay connected to this thing I loved so much. Seemed the most practical thing to do, being that my own dog days were over: I would teach. I held onto that job for a couple years even after I was hired for a full-time position with benefits. The dream. Right? I had made it. It was time to grow up and put fantasies behind me.

Until…

In May of 2011, Pastor Jonathan Martin gave a message to Renovatus (my church home in Charlotte) called, “A Door No Man Can Shut,” based on Revelation 3, and specifically focusing on 3:7-8,

⁷ To the angel of the church in Philadelphia write:

These are the words of him who is holy and true, who holds the key of David. What he opens no one can shut, and what he shuts no one can open. ⁸ I know your deeds. See, I have placed before you an open door that no one can shut. I know that you have little strength, yet you have kept my word and have not denied my name.

I won’t re-preach it; I will simply share what I received for myself…

Too often, I will wonder if an opportunity is from God or something I dreamed up on my own. If I have options, I dwell on them, rolling over pros and cons, allowing multiple voices to speak into the decision; when all along, I know the answer. I’m just too scared or insecure, too hesitant to admit the truth and then act on it. But.

Dance is a gift. To me. From God. He has opened the door, and no one can shut it. Not even me. The door had been wide open, my heart was aching, but my knees were weak. To quote Pastor’s  message, I could quite literally “feel the hand of the Lord stirring me up,” inviting me to walk – no, dance – through the open door; to forget rules and insecurity; to simply live and move in the space and time given to me; to receive this gift and run – no, dance – with it.

That same month, I was promoted at my full-time job, leading me to leave my part-time teaching gig behind, and ultimately, prompting my return to dance class as a student at none other than (drum roll, please): Open Door Studios in Charlotte. Coincidence? Maybe. Confirmation? Definitely.

So, I danced through the door. And I haven’t stopped dancing since.