OOF!
2 years off of the blogging habit! That’s a lot … No real excuse for the gap, just life (and maybe the fact that older kids have their own opinions to share, making their voice the most authentic). What struck me, lately, to open up the blog again, is Kayleigh, our eldest.
Our youngest three have LOTS of fans for their soccer work and growth. It’s super easy to drop by a game and cheer at Helder; our carpools are FULL of the most incredible people who show up for the soccer players EVERY week. Kayl’s extracurricular love is far less seen and far less celebrated. It struck me that people are so familiar with how to attend, cheer and celebrate at sporting events, but something like ballet isn’t as comfortable. I choose to believe that comes from less understanding behind the art of dance.
As I watch Kayleigh grow physically, mentally and spiritually through her dance, I am learning more about discipline, time commitments, drive and faith. Kayl’s dance ensemble is deep into their rehearsals for performances that open December 8th. As a way of connecting with what matters to her, I’ve been joining her in immersing myself in the music of her show. As I do, she opens up about the stories behind the ballet you see on stage. I have watched The Promise at least 10 times in the last 10 years, and I can tell you, I’m learning more about the show, faith, and these dancers each time she comes home from rehearsal.
So, even if no one else ever reads this (or if its her family and close friends alone), I thought it worth the time it’d take to share “the story behind” The Promise, through her eyes. My sweet girl offered to write it herself, but she definitely doesn’t have time right now …
Perhaps, as you watch it this year, you’ll see some new insights as well.
I encourage you to click on the YouTube link to listen to the first song that Kayleigh dances in, Oh Come, Oh Come, Emmanuel.
”Our costumes are neutral pants and tops, we wear head pieces that are functional. We are asked to embody a perspective of desperation … a desperation the Israelites must have felt while in Egypt, when held captive by cruel masters. We’re longing for the King who will make things right. We’re begging for an intervention, a way out of a situation that we’re powerless to do on our own. So our moves, our motions, and are expressions are fervent and desperate.”
I echo this cry, this plea (obviously not in the same way the Israelites longed for freedom), but the hope for Spiritual renewal, hope for peace, hope for an end to the struggles that seem so persistent. And I love, love that my daughter is learning, through her dance, that the best solution to those same conflicts in her life is a prayerful longing for more of our Savior.
