This week we begin an exciting series (mostly written by Rebecca), in which Rebecca describes an extremely difficult time in her life. We hope you will follow along with the series, because it is an emotionally moving, transparent account of that period of her life. Besides being interesting to read, it will inspire readers to take a moment to consider their life’s priorities. I know it did so for me. At the end, I’ll weigh in on the circumstances from my point of view, which was how I felt watching my only daughter in crisis, and being unable to do much to fix it. So, let’s get started…enjoy!!!!
Have you ever had something in your life you thought you couldn’t live without? Something that was so important to you that you felt like you would be nothing without it? Like you wouldn’t know who you were if it were gone….. I have. I had something that was so important to me, that it was my whole life. That something was dance. I slept, ate, breathed, and lived dance, when I was younger. Don’t get me wrong. I loved other things, too, like my family and God. They were very important to me as well. But, dance was supremely important. I knew that my future was in dance.
Back then, I couldn’t imagine life without dance. I didn’t realize it at the time, but that was not a good situation to be in. It was not a good idea for me to have placed dance on such a high pedestal, that it towered above almost everything else in my life. The Bible tells us that when we make something this important to us, it can become an idol. I may not have realized it, but I was teetering on idolatry. Not good, not good at all. But God knew what was going on, and He knew I was about to learn a very important lesson. Here’s how it all began.
It was a cold, wintery night at my beloved dance studio. I was about fourteen years old, and I was in ballet class, dancing away, with not a care in the world. It was “parent observation” night, so my parents were sitting at the front of the studio by the mirrors that covered the front wall. They were happily watching their daughter fly about the room with a big smile on her face. As I began one of the last dance combinations of the night, and in the midst of my sheer bliss, I was completely unaware of the melting ice patch that lay on the floor of the dance studio in my direct path.
I was doing huge leaps (in ballet terms they’re called “jetes”) across the floor. I was in joyous flight and oblivious to the fact that I was heading straight for a danger zone. I barreled towards the watery ice patch. My dance instructor called out, in French terminology, the final combination as we dancers leaped across the floor…..tambe, pas de bouree, glissade, JETEEEEE!!!! As I was gracefully landing that final grande jete of the night, with my parents proudly looking on, my foot suddenly hit the watery ice patch on the floor. I slid wildly, and flew high into the air. This was NOT GOOD. Actually, it was very bad!!
Everyone gasped in fright. Here was the beginning of the end. I plummeted to the ground, crashing straight onto my tailbone. WHAM! I heard an intense crack, emotionally and physically. In that split second, I knew something was very wrong. Everyone was silent and stared; you could hear a pin drop. Then, the pain came. It surged through my back and I couldn’t move. I tried to hold back the tears that wished to gush forth, but I couldn’t stop them.
My ballet teacher rushed to my side. Her eyes were grim with fear. She suspected what I didn’t know at the time, that I had seriously injured my back. She ended class immediately and tried to help me get up, which was quite a challenge in and of itself, because she didn’t want to aggravate the injury. Fortunately, with the help of my teacher, parents, and fellow dance friends, I was able to hobble out to my car and go home. Little did I know this was the start of a long, dreadful road for me. Now, don’t worry, this saga does have a surprise ending. But, I won’t give that part away just yet.
TO BE CONTINUED……….next time!!!
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