So...I dance a lot. When I was going on medical leave from KU last year, after battling royally with arthritis and the immense pressures of graduate school, dancing was the only thing I could say—if that makes sense. Sometimes the enormity of the small traumas can add up until we’ve had all we can take. It was time for me to say no more and call on the only help I knew, Jesus.
You know what His prescription was? To sit my worrying-about-tomorrow self down and to use the words I have. For me, that was salsa; that was reggae; that was Stravinsky; that was good ol’ Frankie, Muddy Waters, African dance—and, believe it or not, Christian rap and rock. Seeing that God could take “the world’s” music and turn it around to give Him the glory and the honor and the praise was comforting for me. That God could take the mess I made of my life and turn it into a song that I could later dance...and laugh...to was reassuring for me.
“Through all the chaos, He was writing a symphony” (a song by Switch).
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