Almost

I have performances coming up this weekend, and they’re going to be my last ones. So I’m not exactly sure how I should feel. On the one hand, I love this ballet and it’s going to be so awesome and such, but on the other hand, I’m a little sad that I’m not in that many pieces—and only in a couple that I really wanted to be in. So while the performance will be phenomenal no matter what, I’m a bit disappointed. And that’s kind of my own fault.

It’s not that I’m a bad dancer (you don’t get to be in level V of VI when you’re as tall as I am without trying pretty hard); it’s just that I’m not as good as I wish I was—I’m not nearly as good as some of my friends are. Don’t get me wrong—I love my friends and I love watching them dance, but sometimes I wish I could be in some of the pieces they’re in. I want to be part of the process, not because I want to be some prima ballerina or anything, but simply because I want to join in on the meshing together of technique and artistry to create worship.

It’s hard to stand on the sidelines when the thing you want to do most is be in the midst of the game. It’s even harder when you know that if (due to some fluke) you were to be put in the game, things wouldn’t go all that well. I love the choreography of the pieces, and I would love to learn it and be able to perform it, but it wouldn’t end up looking as nice as it does when my friends do it.

Every person doing that last whatever-it-is wants it to be an amazing experience. And that’s how I feel about The Deliverer: I wanted to grow in my technique, to be able to have more than just 110 degrees of turnout and a 90ish degree arabesque; I wanted my pointework to get stronger and to be able to whip out solid triple pirouettes instead of only half-hearted doubles. I had reasonable goals. I just wanted to be like some of the others and be able to be worthy of dancing in some of the harder/fun pieces.

But I’m not like Zoë or Lexie or Jessie or Anna—I don’t have crazy extension (or any extension for that matter) or solid turns en pointe. I’m not bad—I’m just not amazing. Instead of all the technique in the world, I’ve got artistry and a passion for worship—whether I’m onstage or offstage.

So I’ve had to learn humility (humility bordering on low self-esteem sometimes, but humility nonetheless)—and through that humility, I’ve learned to appreciate the gifts of my peers all the more. It’s such a blessing to watch them and support them from the wings.

Because the thing is, it’s not about me. The point of performing in The Deliverer is not so that I can get in the pieces I wanted to and perform in front of an audience; the point is to share the gospel and to take part in the story. It isn’t the audience members who make the dancers onstage feel strong and blessed and covered in protection—it’s the knowledge that there are people like me praying for them in the wings.