I know you’re there.

Standing in the corner, sneaking peeks at her hair and her clothes and she’s so in shape…and then looking down at yourself feeling frumpy and plain.

I know you’re there.

Sitting in front of your computer, looking at her blog and her twitter followers and she seems to have it all figured out…and you feel insignificant and invisible.

I know you’re there.

Worshipping in church or volunteering at school, and she’s got so much talent and she’s such a servant and her heart seems so pure…and you suddenly feel so very selfish and very, very  average.

I know you’re there, because I’m there, too. 

It’s a lonely dance for one, this comparison thing, because true dancing is made for two. For partners, for groups, for community. For a body.

And that’s what we all are, isn’t it? A body of believers, a body of women, a body of image-bearers all figuring out the moves that work for us individually and for our age and our limitations…dance moves that represent who we are.

And yet all we do is watch everyone else dancing and try to dance like them.

Why is so hard to stop doing that?

Head Truth tells me I am beloved and chosen and unique and set apart. That I am loved and that thought beautiful and a one-of-a-kind creation.

But heart truth has enormous, giant walls with guards and gates that keeps Head Truth out. And those guards are always whispering criticism and convincing me that Head Truth is just theory — and only applicable to everyone else.

I’m tired of dance moves that are awkward and uncomfortable. I’m tired of the snickers from the guards when I’m dancing awkwardly.

I’m tired of dancing alone.

I’m ready to embrace the Head Truth and make it connect to my heart. And I think that starts with choosing to believe my head even when my heart wants to dismiss it. (tweet)

So I believe each truth my head speaks to me, moment by moment, hour by hour, day by day.

And I gather up my friends, my sisters, my body and I start dancing with them once again.

And I dance awkwardly at first because I don’t exactly how I dance yet.

But as I figure out what feels natural and right, first by recognizing what feels unnatural and wrong, I break down the walls and shoot down the guards and unlock the gates…

one unadulterated and carefree dance at a time.