So let's go back into time.
The beginning of my high school career treated me better than I expected it to. Before high school, I never imagined that I would suddenly get attention from guys. I never anticipated that I would successfully audition to become one of the best singers in the school. And I certainly didn't expect to so quickly be given the chance to compete as one of my dance company's top dancers. But that's what happened. And I loved it. For the first time, I finally felt like people were seeing me how I wanted to be seen. So that's what I built my life around - boys and being the best.
So when I wanted to advance in my dance company, I worked harder than I ever had before. I exercised multiple times a day, ate the same things all the time, worked on strengthening my ankles, improving my balance, did crunches constantly, you name it…if my dance teachers suggested it, I did it. I gave up other activities I was interested in, because dancing was more important to me. It became part of my identity. It made me feel like I was something special. Like I was a star.
Then, during the fall of my junior year, tragedy struck. I unknowingly tore my ACL during a dance convention. It all happened so fast. Another dancer accidentally kicked me as we both jumped, and when I landed, the pain was so intense, I could hardly move. I basically had to crawl offstage. Though I had some trouble walking at first, I decided to simply proceed with the rest of the weekend as planned. I just didn't understand how badly I was injured. Even after going back to my regular dance classes, I was still in denial. Each time I tried to dance, I would end up on the floor, crying in agony.
So on Christmas Eve, I had an MRI. On New Year's Eve, I found out my ACL was torn. And my surgery was scheduled for February, right before Valentine's Day.
It felt like a terrible dream that I was going to wake from at any moment. All I could think was… "This just can't be real. This can't be happening. This kind of thing only happens to other people, not to me." My perfect life was caving in on me, and I couldn't find any way out. There was no way to fix it. No way to take it back. No way to work hard enough to recover on my own. Part of my very self was slipping away, and I was helpless to reclaim it. All that I had worked for…gone.
I honestly didn't know how I was going to deal with it. Any of it. The surgery. The rehab. I knew those would be horrible beyond measure. But worst of all - I dreaded the torturous act of sitting in the audience as my friends performed, knowing that I should be onstage with them. And yet…the show would go on without me.
My friends, family, and dance company were very supportive of course, and I'm so thankful for their love and encouragement. But I still felt alone. Like no one could understand the depth of the anguish that now filled my heart. I couldn't help but ask, "Why is God punishing me?"
But I couldn't hear an answer. In fact things got worse. After what felt like a few glorious successes during my senior year, my freshmen year of college plunged me into the depths once again. I didn't get into a single performing group at school. It was devastating. And I was desperate.
That's exactly where I needed to be though. God opened my eyes to the fact that He wasn't punishing me at all. He was loving me. He was pursuing me. So for the first time, He allowed me to see that I worshipped idols. And although those idols could make me feel good momentary, they would turn against me and leave me torn to pieces. But God's love was bigger than my idols. And He sent Jesus to die in my place.
And as He continues to show me His love, He hasn't stopped taking things away. Because He doesn't want me to just be desperate to reclaim all that He's taken from me. He wants me to become desperate for Him alone, since desperate people are the ones that God can save. Without a sense of complete and utter hopelessness in myself, I will just keep doing anything and everything I can to try to save myself, only to find that none of those things actually work.
Like Eminem sings about in his latest single, The Monster, what I really needed was someone to intervene, to save me from myself. Because the very things that I loved were killing me. And I didn't even know.
But God knew. And He sent Jesus to save me from myself. To intervene. To break into the life I had built around myself and to show me that a life that wasn't built around His sacrificial and redemptive love was a meaningless existence.
Now when I look at my 10 year old scars from my knee surgery, they remind me that He loved me enough to walk me through the darkest time of my life so far. Even when I ran from Him, He stayed with me, and continued to extend the opportunity for me to turn to Him, to repent. But without these hard things coming into my life, I would have never even known that I was a real sinner in need a real Savior.
As Jesus said, "It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners" (Mark 2:17).
Though I would never wish the terrors of an ACL injury (and more) upon anyone, I'm thankful that God loved me enough to take away the things that I loved most so that I would learn to love Him most.
So now, I still love singing. I still love dancing. And I hope that someday a godly man will want to make me his wife. But so much more than all of that…I love Jesus and sharing the truth of His gospel with the world. It's the most fulfilling thing I've ever experienced. But I never would have known that if God hadn't taken everything else away.
If God is taking away the things that you love, making you desperate, I implore you, don't run away from Him. Run to Him. Don't ignore the chance to repent. It's not too late to turn from the other things you're worshipping and turn to the Lord. Just admit that you've been running. Admit your sin. Jesus came to save sinners like you and me. And in His presence is life and fullness of joy (Psalm 16:11).
For the broken, for the scarred, for the desperate…Loving Him is Red!
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