Dancing Through Life (9 page)

Chapter 7

So God created man in His own image; He created him in the image of God; He created them male and female.

—Genesis 1:27

O
nce I sambaed my way across the stage in mermaid fins, I felt like I’d already crossed the finish line. Making it through that week was a huge victory for me, especially since it was such an upset and shock for Australian pop star Cody Simpson to be eliminated over me. When the show started, I set a goal for myself to make it to the halfway point. I knew going in that my limited dance experience might be a hindrance. I didn’t want that to lead to my elimination, so I set a goal to stay in the game until week six. When the cameras started rolling on the live show that week, and I was still standing on the
DWTS
stage, I felt like I’d achieved my whole goal for the show. The finale was still weeks away, but I had already crossed the finish line that I drew for myself.

But every mountain climber will tell you, sometimes it’s hard to breathe at the summit. I was proud of my work and thrilled to still be competing, but I was having trouble catching my breath! My nerves were getting worse by the day. I was emotionally exhausted. I started to experience mental blocks where I could not remember my routine. My mind and body had been in a pressure cooker for six long weeks and I was beginning to crack.

The production schedule for each week included two to three full runs of my routine on stage, with cameras on Sundays depending on whether the live band or a track would be playing our song during the live show. Monday mornings were hair and makeup, my final costume fitting, running the routine two times for camera blocking, a full dress rehearsal run, and then, of course, the live show Monday night. Those two days became my most nerve-racking days each week and my anxiety was increasingly getting worse. By week six, I developed a nervous stomach and had to fight waves of nausea before practices and performances. During this week I also started blanking out during the routine. I had never experienced mental blocks before, but suddenly I simply couldn’t remember segments of the dance.

Week six was “party anthem week” with Redfoo as guest judge and performer, but it didn’t feel like a party to me. Mark and I were assigned the cha-cha-cha, a ballroom dance characterized by small steps, straight legs, and swaying hip movements. We were given “I Love It” by Icona Pop to dance to, but I’ve got to be honest, I didn’t love the way competing at this level was making me feel. I experienced levels of fear and panic that I don’t ever want to endure again. I couldn’t get through the routine on stage on Sunday without blanking out at times, briefly forgetting where I was in the dance or what I was supposed to be doing. The transition of taking my perfectly rehearsed routine from the rehearsal studio to the
DWTS
stage made me feel disoriented. I had no point of reference that was familiar within my routine and my tired brain was starting to short-circuit.

On Monday morning we got three shots to get through the routine, twice for camera blocking with the band and once for the full dress rehearsal, which is taped. I didn’t make it through the entire routine one single time with six tries on stage between the two days. Mark didn’t help my situation by becoming frustrated and upset with me. He knew I could do the dance perfectly back at the rehearsal studio and didn’t want to just drag me through it with a few missteps on stage. He wanted a perfect run, because even though it was rehearsal he knew everyone was watching and there was a lot of pressure on him as my pro.

At one point I broke down and told Mark that the pressure was simply too much for me. I said, “I think I’m done, dude, I’m just choking.” I was ready to throw in the towel. In response, Mark walked off the stage again upset and frustrated with me. I felt those old fears of disappointing others start to rise up in me. I wanted to burst into tears right then and there and I started to. Mark saw it and called out to me, but I just ignored him. Producers came over to reassure me everything would be fine, but I wasn’t having it. As soon as possible I made a beeline to my dressing room, where I cried and prayed and desperately e-mailed my prayer team to intercede for me.

Support for Shaky Limbs

It’s in those moments when we can’t see the forest for the trees—when it looks like the mountain in front of us is insurmountable or our weaknesses cannot be overcome—that we most need the support of others who will love us well and speak God’s truth into our lives.

This point is beautifully illustrated in Exodus 17. Moses and the people of God must do battle against the armies of Amalek, a pagan king. Moses gives these marching orders to Joshua, the commander of the Israelite army: “Select some men for us and go fight against Amalek. Tomorrow I will stand on the hilltop with God’s staff in my hand” (v. 9).

As the battle raged on, the strangest thing happened. As long as Moses kept his arms in the air, the Israelites kept the upper hand, but when his arms started to drop, Amalek’s armies gained ground. No one can hold their arms up hour after hour. Moses’ limbs got shaky. His strength was spent. But so much was on the line!

I wasn’t in that kind of battle, but I was fighting to be true to myself, to represent Christ well, and to finish strong. But my limbs were shaking. My strength was zapped. My courage was waning.

What did Moses do? He literally leaned on the strength of others.

“When Moses’ hands grew heavy, they took a stone and put it under him, and he sat down on it. Then Aaron and Hur supported his hands, one on one side and one on the other so that his hands remained steady until the sun went down. So Joshua defeated Amalek and his army with the sword” (vv. 12–13).

I leaned hard into the arms of several people as my mental battle intensified. Val was an important “pillar” for me, of course. He had competed on a similar reality TV competition show called
Battle of the Blades
as a pro hockey player turned pair’s figure skating competitor with Olympic gold medalist Ekaterina Gordeeva, so he knew a lot about the experience. He absorbed as much of the pressure as possible and reminded me that we were running this race as a family. Stacy, my personal prayer partner for the past several years, faithfully encouraged me, prayed for me, and cheered me on. My best friend, Dilini, also comforted me and was a listening ear at every stage of the journey. And my prayer team was still praying like crazy! Without these people “holding up my arms” I simply wouldn’t have been able to go on past week five. Even when I couldn’t see it, they helped me to remember that the finish line wasn’t nearly as important as how I ran the race. I wanted to run well!

Some of you are in a battle as you read these words. Maybe you’ve lost the high ground. Maybe it’s a diagnosis that’s knocked you flat, or a relationship gone south, or a sin you can’t seem to get victory over. If that’s you, you know what it’s like to feel your strength get zapped and your limbs get shaky. But my guess is, that fat lady’s not singing yet! There’s most likely still a battle to be fought. No, you probably cannot do it on your own, but you don’t have to. Who can shore you up? Who can point you toward God’s truth when you cannot seem to grasp it for yourself? Don’t be afraid to reach your arms toward the people in your world who can love and encourage you and can help stabilize your heart during times of war.

Finding My Inner Pussycat Doll?

I was just trying to tread enough water to stay afloat, but soon I had a new challenge to face. As Mark and I practiced the cha-cha-cha, he kept saying things to me like:

“You got to own your sexy girl.”

“You’ve gotta sell it and make every guy in the room,
like ‘Aaaoooo-gguh!’”

“Just strut your stuff.”

“Pretend you’re a Pussycat Doll.”

But here’s the problem. I am most definitely
not
a Pussycat Doll! I am a mother of three, more accustomed to carpools than the club scene. It wasn’t that Mark had choreographed a sexy or provocative dance, but to take on the roll of this dance, it required sexy hip movement and a level of confidence that was really hard for me. At the end of the dance, I was supposed to snap my finger and strut toward the audience. It was so hard for me to “own it” like Mark wanted me to.

As we rehearsed, we’d get to the strut and Mark would stop me every time.

“Lame. You look like my grandma,” he’d say.

“Not attractive.”

“Not sexy.”

I could laugh it off, but there was no denying this was a difficult thing for me. I started to get very discouraged because I didn’t want to look like a grandma, but I simply didn’t feel sexy.

Before I knew it, insecurities I had previously been unaware of started to bubble up to the surface.

As I’ve said before, of course I do feel like it’s important to reserve sex and certain parts of myself for my husband. Somewhere along the line I think I also decided to hide away parts of my femininity and confidence as a woman. I recognized that a part of me felt like I was never allowed to embrace my sexuality and my femininity in its fullest form because when you’re a Christian it’s something you reserve for one man.

Before any feathers get ruffled out there, let me reiterate that Mark and I weren’t trying to create a sexy dance. And while I was trying to come to terms with how to express my own sexuality, it’s worth noting that not all sexuality is God-honoring and worthy of embracing. I wanted to stick within the biblical guidelines for sex, without ignoring that I am created as a sexual creature. Sex is God’s idea, after all. So are manhood and womanhood. As I tried and failed to walk across that stage as a confident woman, I had to wrestle with the fact that I didn’t feel like I had the freedom to own who I was.

What Is Womanhood
Really
About?

Take a man (or woman!) on the street, poll them about womanhood, and you’re likely to discover that I’m not the only one with hesitations about what womanhood should look like. Depending on who you ask, you might hear answers like:

• Women are supposed to be tender and nurturing.
  
• Women are supposed to be strong and sexy.
  
• Women should be responders.
  
• Women should be initiators.
  
• Women should be gentle and quiet.
  
• Women should be bold and powerful.
  

No wonder I was second-guessing myself. If we try to live up to the world’s standards for womanhood, we’ll all get whiplash.

But what matters most is not how the culture defines womanhood, or even how I define womanhood. What matters most is God’s plan for my design—
He
is the designer.

In Genesis 1:27 we see God’s master plan for gender:

So God created man in His own image; He created him in the image of God; He created them male and female.

Men and women were created
in the image of God.
From the beginning we see men and women created uniquely. Our parts are not interchangeable, neither are our God-given roles. Men and women are given equal value, both bearing the image of God, and both formed by the hand of a loving Creator. But the genders were designed to communicate different parts of the image of God. Who I am as a woman is unique and separate from who my husband is as a man. When I hide my womanhood or apologize for it, I’m covering up the image of God I was designed to portray.

As I write this, I’m almost forty years old, and I still struggle with feeling like a little girl sometimes. Can anyone else relate?

I had to face questions like:

Am I glad that I’m a woman?

Is it good that I’m a woman?

How can I express my God-given femininity and still honor God’s plan for my sexuality?

I realized that I don’t like it when Christian women feel the need to hide themselves completely—when we are embarrassed because we have a body, complete with hips and curves. I’m not talking about dressing or acting provocatively here. I hope I’ve established that I highly value the qualities of modesty and discretion, but as I struggled to just
walk
confidently I realized that I didn’t have to hide my femininity. I didn’t have to hide my confidence as a woman because I am an image-bearer of God.

It wasn’t sexiness that I was searching for; it was confidence. As a Christian woman I’ve been told to hold my sexuality and femininity back. To keep it hidden. But somehow it ended up being my confidence that got stuffed down. Because of this dance and the way that Mark was talking me through it, I had to find my confidence as a woman or fall flat on my face in front of millions. I had to take a hard look at what the Bible really teaches about my femininity and come to terms with what it means to bear God’s image.

Biblically Bold