Saturday, May 31, 2014

Dancing with Papa

Anyone that knows me lately knows that I've gotten a little into salsa dancing...and when I saw "gotten into it" I mean it's to the point where my friend Kenni Rae and I joke that Salsa is like crack. If you listened to anyone in the community it sounds like there's looking for a place to get a hit as opposed to practice dancing.

This has become something I love. Something I enjoy to the point that I sometimes go out 2-3 times a week. It's good exercise. It's social. It's fun. It has music and it's beautiful. And generally when I say "I go out" I mean I will probably be at a place starting at 9 or 10 and will most likely leave around 1 or 2, dancing my heart out the whole time. All in all I can end up dancing 4-5 hours straight in a night. No stopping. Not holding anything back. And it brings me joy! I feel alive when I'm dancing. I feel like some how the world makes sense, even when really nothing in the world makes sense and life is going crazy. When I'm dancing it doesn't matter, because all that really matters is the music and the way it moves me.

Last night, as a usual Friday night, I went out to dance salsa. I spent the night spinning and twirling with one partner then another and finally got the chance to dance with my all time favorite salsa partner. This guy only appears to be a petite Asian man, when in fact I swear that he's really the strongest Latino on the dance floor. Seriously, every time we dance I'm impressed by some of the moves he pulls off. There are some things he does I never thought anyone could pull off, then there he goes. He dips, he spins, and he's never dropped me once (Just saying that's an accomplishment). However, despite his dance moves being so impressive, the real reason he is my favorite partner is that ever time I dance with him he takes the time to :
1) teach me something new
2) give me a pep talk.
This night was no exception.

Standing on the edge of the dance floor, watching all the beautiful people, He slid over beside me and asked me for a dance. When my favorite dancer asks for a dance, how can I refuse? He guided me out to the floor and we danced for a few songs. Finally he suggested we take a break. He lead me to the couches off to the side, and says "Kayla, I can't believe how much you have improved. Each time we dance together you keep on getting better and better. I remember seeing you dance the first time in November, and now look at you! That takes dedication and you're out every chance, just improving."

I was thinking about what he said today as I got ready for salsa class and I thought, it's true, I have improved a lot. There's no denying that. I wouldn't say it's extraordinarily. I mean I do go out at least once a week. So I'd still say for that I'm pretty average. However, I go out to practice and when i practice I practice hard. Non-stop is a word that has described me often.

That's when I heard Papa's voice whisper, "Kayla, what if you pursued me the way you pursue dancing?" And I was literally dumb struck. For the past month I've been watching people I would say have "expert" level faith. They walk with Papa like he's right next to them. I guess that's because they know he is. And though I know in my head he is with me, so often my heart is in disbelief and I stray.

I've noticed this tendency, I guess you could call it a habit in my life, that when I'm feeling dead, purposeless, I seek out purpose. Passion is not a foreign concept to me. In high school it was music. Then health. In college it became injustice and speaking up for the voiceless...and though none of these things are bad, they're not the Lord and they don't satisfy. They only are the pursuit of "water that will cause thirst again," and because they do not sustain they need to be pursued. Now I'm recognizing this pattern beginning to repeat in dance. Now I don't think dance is bad, nor do I feel called to quit it. I think that it's a beautiful thing. It's a gift the Lord has given me for the here and now, and oh the way Papa speaks to me as I move.
And I'm not saying that Salsa takes away from my time with the Lord. I've developed the discipline of having quiet time, of sitting with the Lord. Meditation. Devotions. Listening to podcasts. Prayer. However, the thought lingers, what would happen if I pursued Papa as long and as hard as I can dance? Here's my challenge. I guess Papa has given me a dare: Chase me and don't stop. Close down the place if you have to. Practice when you're alone. Follow me. Dance with me. I'm not sure what this would look like and I don't know where it will lead, but I'm willing to find out. I think we'll be seeing more blogs about this to come. Maybe it's a competition with myself, to dance in the spirit as hard as I can dance in the flesh. If in the flesh I can grow so much, how much more in the spirit. I think I'm ready to find out.

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