Dancing Through Life (14 page)

Eventually the producers found me. I begged them not to send in the camera. I told them I needed a few more minutes. They graciously agreed. I took a deep breath and walked back into the rehearsal studio. But I knew nothing had changed. My attitude still stunk!

At that point I was so irritated by being inside my own body. I wanted out of myself but I was stuck with me. (Please tell me you’ve felt like this before!) I asked the producers for five minutes with Mark with no cameras. They reluctantly agreed and I motioned for Mark to step into the hallway with me. Mark said later than when I motioned to him to speak privately, he braced himself to hear me say I was quitting. But that’s not what I said. Instead, I looked Mark straight in the eyes and said as seriously as he’d ever seen me, “I need you to help me. My attitude sucks! I can’t even stand to be within myself right now. I don’t want to be around myself, but I can’t shake it. I recognize it’s totally me. You’ve been extremely patient. You’ve been a great teacher.”

In that moment I had several options. I could have quit, like Mark expected me to. When the going got really tough, I could have simply taken off my dance shoes and gone home. But I would have forfeited my chance to cross the finish line. I was too close to let that happen now. I could have exploded, venting to Mark about why this routine was so hard and why the choreography was too tough and that my frustration was feeding off his frustration with me and voicing every excuse I could think of. But that would have just thrown fuel on the fire that was already raging inside of me and put Mark in an even more uncomfortable and aggravated position. Instead, I chose a more difficult path—a path my flesh resisted every step of the way. I chose repentance, owning up to the ways my sin was wreaking havoc and I chose to ask for help.

Of course repentance is God’s idea. It comes straight from His Word.

James 5:16 says, “Therefore, confess your sins to one another and pray for one another, so that you may be healed. The urgent request of a righteous person is very powerful in its effect.”

We don’t need a mediator between God and us. We are free to confess our sins to Him at any time and He is ready and willing to forgive us, but there is power in dragging our sins out into the light. I had already taken my frustration and anxiety to God in the closet, but now I needed to confess them to Mark. After all, he had been impacted by my behavior and he was uniquely positioned to provide accountability moving forward.

As we talked, my need to repent in other areas became obvious. At one point I had told Mark in exasperation that I hated the dance he created. He told me that he was really hurt over my words and found them rude. He had worked extremely hard to create the routine and felt unappreciated and disrespected. He was right. Instead of defending myself, I simply said, “I’m sorry.” It was rude. Truth be told, I didn’t really hate the routine, I just hated the way I was having trouble learning and performing it in that moment.

Ultimately, repentance was what flipped the switch for me. It was like the fog lifted and I felt so much better. We walked back into the studio, performed the routine, and the producers stopped us and said, “What just happened?” The difference was evident. I knew that moment could not have happened with the cameras rolling. I needed to privately deal with my own sin and then go to the person I had sinned against one-on-one, without millions of people watching.

That became a defining moment for me and for Mark. I learned the power of humble repentance. I can understand why James tied public confession to powerful prayer in the verse I mentioned above. I needed to get real about my sin to make room for God to move. And He did! I was able to practice and learn the routine without the panic and frustration that had seemed chained to me just a few minutes earlier. And Mark had been able to complete a missing piece of choreography that also had him stuck.

In the end, we performed a dance that guest judge Kenny Ortega—a three-time Emmy-winning director and choreographer—pronounced “brilliant,” saying I reminded him of the great ladies of Broadway. Len said, “There was nothing nasty about that. It was crisp, it was clean, it was tight, and it was together. Well done!” We scored two 9s and two perfect 10s. It was our highest scores of the entire season and I felt like we killed it! I have no doubt things would have turned out very differently if instead of repenting and asking for help, I had dug in or walked away during that difficult rehearsal.

A Waltz Gone Wrong

With all of the drama that surrounded our jazz number, I expected the waltz to go off without a hitch. I had learned it easily in practice and loved every part of our routine to Bruno Mars’s song “If I Knew.” My peach-jeweled floral corset top and long skirt was feminine and old-fashioned, and I felt more beautiful than ever in it. As Mark and I prepared to take the stage, I felt comfortable and confident. But things didn’t exactly go as planned.

After the first quarter of the routine, I was supposed to do a turn where Mark then dipped me in his arms. But after the spin I blanked and hesitated. Mark quickly got me into the dip but when I came up, I didn’t know where I was in the routine. My eyes were like saucers and Mark saw the confusion on my face. He whispered my next steps and I quickly adjusted my arms and feet and we kept dancing. Just a few steps later, I did the wrong move again and mistakenly placed my arm around Mark’s shoulder. He moved my arm back in front of him into the proper hold and we kept dancing, but he knew mentally, I was done. I had made too many mistakes in too short of a time span and I couldn’t recover. He started whispering every move into my ear . . .

“I got you. Left foot. Right foot. We’re about to turn here . . .”

He talked me through every single step. I was so disappointed in myself and upset after the dance because I felt like I had blown it. Before we took the stage, Mark had predicted we would get 10s because I knew this routine so well. Instead, we ended up with two 8s and two 9s.

God had taken a routine that was challenging for me and turned it into a lesson about repentance. He truly is able to make beauty from ashes. Romans 8:28 promises that He works everything for our good. My perfect waltz gone wrong was no exception. A friend of mine, Karen Ehman, wrote about that dance on her blog. She’s an accomplished writer, but her post titled “What Candace Cameron Bure’s Waltz Teaches Us about God” became one of her most shared posts ever.

I wept when I read the post for the first time because her words helped me think beyond the dance floor. I wanted to pass them along to you . . .

This season on
Dancing with the Stars
. . . Candace Cameron Bure is a participant. Since she and I have become friends in the past few years by speaking at conferences and doing online ministry together, I have followed the show this season. Okay. More than followed. I’ve become a totally obsessed fan. Haven’t missed an episode.

I get updates from Candace about how rehearsal is going. This past week I knew she was dancing a Viennese waltz and then a jazz number. When she and partner Mark Ballas took the floor to perform their waltz, I put down my pita chips and hummus and riveted my eyes to the screen.

She looked gorgeous. And elegant. The dance started out well. But then a slight misstep caused her to momentarily lose her place.

She continued on. It became evident that Mark was speaking to her as they whirled and twirled around the dance floor in sync, attempting to complete the number.

When the song ended and they made their way over to chat with the show’s host Tom Bergeron, Candace was visibly upset with herself. The judges pointed out that she indeed had momentarily lost her place but that they were proud of the fact that she kept on dancing.

After the judges’ comments on the number and before they revealed their scores, Tom asked Mark a question. He wanted to know what he was saying to Candace as they were waltzing their way to the end of the routine. Mark replied, “I’ve got you. It’s okay. Right leg. Left leg. Stretch. Turn around. I’ve got you. It’s okay. Love you. Love you. Love you. We’re gonna make it. We’re gonna make it.”

I know this chant of encouragement was for Candace during the dance, but later that evening, I couldn’t get Mark’s words off my mind.

When immersed in the great dance of life, sometimes I forget my place. My feet get tangled. My mind goes blank. Bewildered, I continue on, although I’m totally uncertain of what to do next.

While I rehearse life’s scenarios over and over again, surmising just how they will turn out once the music starts, sometimes life’s dance doesn’t always go just as planned. I’m guessing it is the same with you at times. Maybe?

We vow to have a loving and loyal marriage, but then domestic disputes happen. We say and do things that we had not intended. Our marriage drifts off course and we aren’t sure what to do to get back in step with our spouse.

We purpose to be an intentional parent. To raise our children to be loving and respectful. Children that would make any parent proud. But then one of them makes a bad choice. A
really
bad choice. So we beat ourselves up emotionally over and over again, wrongly surmising that we are our child’s choices. Though the music keeps blaring, we can’t seem to put one foot in front of the other. We are just too discouraged with our poor parenting skills.

Or maybe we ourselves choose poorly. Irrationally. Even immorally. We want to stop the conductor and abandon the dance. We’ve messed up far too much to go on.

It is then that the Lord gently takes our hand, pulls us in close and with loving reassurance whispers sweetly to our soul . . .

“I’ve got you. It’s okay.”

But Lord. I just can’t . . .

“Yes you can. Follow Me now. Right leg. Left leg.”

But I’ve messed up big time . . .

“Stretch.”

Lord, that stretch hurt . . .

“Yes it did. Now turn around.”

You mean repent?

“Yes. I’ve got you. I’ve got you. It’s okay. I love you. Just keep your eyes on Me. Listen only to My voice. Follow Me:

I. Love. You.”

When it came time for Mark and Candace’s second dance, she danced with a confidence that earned her and Mark their best scores of the season including two perfect 10s. All because she forgot her past, changed her ways, and allowed her teacher to get her back on course.

As we waltz through life and something happens to cause us to stumble, it is never too late to listen to the Master’s loving words to us as He gently and graciously consoles, corrects, and restores.

Can you hear Him now? He is gently whispering to you . . .

“We’re gonna make it. We’re gonna make it. Just keep listening to Me, My love, and . . .

Dance on.”

“. . . and that you may love the L
ord
your God, listen to his voice, and hold fast to him. For the L
ord
is your life . . . ” (Deut. 30:20
niv
)
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Chapter 11

Therefore, since we also have such a large cloud of
witnesses surrounding us, let us lay aside every weight and the sin that so easily ensnares us. Let us run
with endurance the race that lies before us.

—Hebrews 12:1

C
liff Young knew how to finish a race.

In 1983, Cliff won the Westfield Sydney to Melbourne Ultramarathon. He ran from Sydney to Melbourne, Australia, a distance of almost 550 miles in a record-breaking time of five days, fifteen hours, and four minutes. He beat the previous record by almost two days.

The crazy thing about Cliff is that he was not a marathon runner. In fact, he’d never run in a single race before. Cliff was not an athlete. He was a potato farmer. He wasn’t young. Remarkably, he crossed the finish line at the age of sixty-one. His training had been in the sheep fields. After the race, he told reporters that while he was running he imagined that he was chasing sheep and trying to outrun a storm. Most of the other runners had big-name sponsors like Nike and high-tech running gear to prove it. Cliff showed up for the race in his overalls and work boots.

There’s never been a more likeable underdog than Cliff. When he won, he divvied up the $10,000 in prize money among the other five racers who finished the race. He didn’t keep a penny for himself. The following year he entered another race and was awarded a Mitsubishi Colt for his courage. He instantly deferred to the tenacity of a competitor and gave the keys to the other runner. Cliff Young never kept a single prize, but he kept running into his eighties.
14

When asked what drives him, Cliff once told a magazine reporter, “I like to finish what I start doing. I like to see it through to the end, to the best of my ability.”
15

Cliff was not a marathon runner, but that didn’t keep him out of the race. I am not a ballroom dancer, but that didn’t keep me off the
DWTS
stage. As I was pushed through to the final four by my incredible fan support and rounded the corner of week ten of my
DWTS
journey, the finish line was in sight, but the last leg of the race is often the hardest. I had to dig deep to get through. But this wasn’t about dancing anymore. It wasn’t about a mirrorball trophy or ratings. I wanted to see this baby through to the end. I was determined to do so to the best of my abilities.

Man Down!

As rehearsals began for week ten, only four of us remained. Mark and I were assigned two dances, the quickstep and a freestyle.

Each couple was required to return to the style of dance they did during switch-up week. I did the quickstep with Tony and now it was time to do it again with Mark. At this stage in the game, all of the competitors were beyond exhausted. The competition was less like a marathon and more like an eleven-week-long sprint when you count our rehearsals before the show ever started. We were winded and wrung out but we simply had to press through.

I struggled to master the quickstep, even though I had already performed it once. It should have come easier to me the second time around, but the switch-up had been six weeks prior, I’d learned a lot of steps in the meantime, and I was mentally and physically exhausted.

For our freestyle, Mark and I chose to disco. Mark really wanted to knock it out of the park so instead of doing a type of dance the audience had already seen me do before, like contemporary, he wanted something fun, fresh, and exciting that would really get them pumped watching. Through his years of experience on the show, Mark felt it was the freestyle that ultimately won or lost you the competition.

“This is the dance that makes you amazing or breaks you!” he told me.

We chose the song “Canned Heat” by Jamiroquai. You might know it best from the movie
Napoleon Dynamite
. (Gosh!) I love that movie so we thought it would be a fun pick. Our costumes were all solid gold and over-the-top silly and we had a D.J. Candyball theme in honor of D.J. Tanner. We thought we had all of the elements for a killer performance the audience and judges would love.

Rehearsals were extra challenging because of the exhaustion factor. There was one point on Sunday morning before camera blocking, but still at the rehearsal studio, where Mark kept pushing the side of my neck and face back to get me into the proper frame for our quickstep. After one push a little too hard, I lost it and started crying and walked out of the studio. That scene was all caught on camera of course and ended up being in my video package for the live show. Lots of people expressed frustration with Mark after that show aired, but he wasn’t acting aggressively toward me. He had done the same thing many times before using an arm’s-length technique to get his partner back into frame, although in his frustration, he pushed a little quicker and harder than normal and at that point I was so tired and oversensitive that I couldn’t handle it. “Dude, you’re being so dramatic right now,” Mark said. I was, but it was all very real. It was an extremely stressful week because we wanted the dances to be perfect but we were both coasting on fumes.

In that situation, the show was an endurance game. All of the couples were struggling under the weight of the ongoing stress and strain on our bodies. The race became about survival of the fittest, and injuries were happening left and right. Unfortunately, we weren’t immune. During that same day, just one day before the live show, Mark tore his rotator cuff as we were camera blocking our freestyle routine in the middle of our first lift. As he was whisked off to the emergency room, I started to freak out. The producers informed me that they didn’t know if Mark would be able to dance and assigned me Artem Chigvintev, one of the troupe dancers, as my new partner. Mark and I had been working together for eleven weeks at this point. We were one day away from the finals and suddenly I was on a whole new team.

It couldn’t have happened on a worse day. It was the most minute-by-minute scheduled day of the entire season. We were supposed to be practicing and camera blocking in between interviews with all of the major media outlets. The schedule looked something like this . . .

12:03 makeup and hair touch-ups
12:08
Good Morning America
interview
12:26 camera block 1st dance
12:48
Access Hollywood
interview
1:00
Entertainment Tonight
interview
1:12 wardrobe fitting
1:28 social media video
1:35 weekly magazine interviews
1:50 camera block 2nd dance
2:12
DWTS
package interview

This intense schedule continued until 6:00 p.m., where I then needed to get my ever-famous spray tan and continue practicing back at the rehearsal studio until 11:00 p.m.

I was so frazzled by the stress and exhaustion. Mark and I were at each other’s throats because we were so tired and then suddenly, my partner was lying on the floor kicking his feet and crying out in pain. There was nothing in me that felt like going on. Every cell in my body screamed, “I can’t do this!” but I had already learned the secret to pushing through. Yes, I was weak. Yes, I was at the end of my rope. But that is where God’s office is. His power is perfected in my weakness. When I’m spent, He’s just getting warmed up.

I knew I wasn’t really running this race to win a mirror-ball. This was about standing with conviction. This was about showcasing the grace and joy that God had given to me. This was about having courage in the face of opposition, whether that opposition came from others or from my own insecurities. This was about seizing every opportunity to live for God’s glory.

I wanted to be like the potato-farmer-turned-marathon- runner, Cliff Young. I wanted to cross that finish line, not to grab a victory for myself but so I could “toss the keys” to the Author and Perfecter of my faith.

Hebrews 12:1–2 says it this way:

Therefore, since we also have such a large cloud of witnesses surrounding us, let us lay aside every weight and the sin that so easily ensnares us. Let us run with endurance the race that lies before us, keeping our eyes on Jesus, the source and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that lay before Him endured a cross and despised the shame and has sat down at the right hand of God’s throne.

I was surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses all right. Millions were watching to see how I would finish this race. I wanted to throw off the stress and exhaustion and frustration and run with endurance.

Still Standing

The producers stepped in and immediately started problem-solving, reworking my schedule and situation as best as possible. They canceled my press interviews and rushed me back to the rehearsal studio with Artem and Cheryl Burke after making sure I had a few bites of food for energy before starting in again. Artem was learning both dances from watching our previously taped rehearsal video while he simultaneously rehearsed them with me. Cheryl, a professional dancer who had already been eliminated, was assigned to stay with me and help me with the transition, particularly in the mental department for encouragement.

Learning the dances with a new partner felt so different, but Artem was a total pro, making it as comfortable and seamless as possible. Aside from that, I hadn’t nailed down my quickstep with Mark, and never actually completed a full run of it during camera blocking so I was still trying to learn and memorize it. Artem talked and danced me through everything with his Russian accent and masculine sense of control and calmness over the situation that felt familiar from the years with my husband. Cheryl had an easy and relaxed, this-won’t-be-a-problem kind of smile on her face while she helped me learn the techniques from a female perspective. Cheryl even called in for a new style of ballroom heels to be sent over immediately for me because she knew they would be more comfortable and stable, helping me with the flow of the movements. And they were! Cheryl and Artem’s support was invaluable.

Monday rolled around and it was time for dress rehearsal. Mark had left the hospital after his initial visit to the ER, but had to return the following day for an MRI. I still didn’t know the extent of his injuries or if he and I would dance together on the live show.

Artem and I camera blocked the dances on stage that morning and then Mark returned to the set. He had a small tear in his shoulder, but the doctors had cleared him to dance. The producers were still leery and so was I. I didn’t want to be the reason that Mark had permanent damage to his shoulder. I knew how much was at stake since Mark was a professional dancer and I certainly didn’t want him making any rash decisions for the sake of TV or a possible trophy. It wasn’t worth it.

The doctors, producers, Mark, and I all agreed that if Mark could get through the dress rehearsal without any problems and I felt at complete ease that I wouldn’t be in fear of hurting him again, he could do the live show. If anything happened during those two hours, Artem would be taking his place. We started to practice and Mark realized that some of the lifts would put too much strain on his injured body. He was literally changing the choreography seconds before we performed in our dress rehearsal. I’d had a hard enough time learning everything to begin with, and now the dance was in flux.

Mark was approved for the live show and with all of those factors in play, we went out and did the very best quickstep and freestyle we could. I had a blast and I felt like Mark and I danced as well as we could, particularly under the circumstances. We scored three 9s for our quickstep, which was good considering I once again missed a few steps. I was disappointed, however, to score three 8s on the freestyle, which I had so much fun doing and honestly thought went really well. The judges didn’t agree, saying that although I went for it and my tenacity was admired, I didn’t quite connect with the music and my timing was a millisecond off beat. I didn’t fully agree with the judges this time, but I knew a debate wasn’t the right choice. I told Erin Andrews, the cohost, during her post-dance interview that I had a lot of fun and hoped the audience had as much fun watching as I did performing. It was my way of politely shaking off what they said.

After we all danced, it was time for the final elimination. James Maslow’s name was called and I was left standing between two Olympic athletes, Meryl Davis and Amy Purdy.