Take Up Space

Movement captured by Kathryn Anne Photo

You know those songs that play and you can't help but dance to it? You hear the beat and your feet want to shuffle, your hips want to sway, and your arms want to burst or swing. 

You're hesitant to stand at first, but your face starts to soften. Then, you make the first move — you set your book or phone down. That alone is enough.

What you picture yourself doing isn’t what you’re actually doing, but you're still dancing. You look a little wacky and you don't care. There might be people in the room, or maybe you’re alone. All that matters is the music energizing your ear drums. You follow the rhythm. It feels uncomfortable to pull out all the stops, but you cut the ropes trying to rein you in. Career dancers would judge you, but they don't have the last say here. In this space, you take up space. You twirl, twist, and jump. Your neck is loose and so are your fingers. They twinkle like sun rays that flitter through trees. Your arms reach the clouds. Your eyes see Saturn moons. Your hair whirls dust from the floor to the ceiling. For these few breaths, you realize how restricted you've been after finally letting go. 

As the music begins to fade, you calm your lungs and slow your body down. Hair strands still cover your eyes. A smile curves across your cheeks. No words can express the seeds sown in your dance. The music is hushed, but you are far from muted. Freedom is now with you. Joy radiates from your limbs. 

This intimate moment feels shared, even though no one else made your moves but you. You shared yourself with space, and the space gave you wordless glee. All because you made the first move. The move to release.

…

There are a lot of things that hold us back from moving and living free. Sometimes it’s timing and resources, often times it’s wounds, tragedy, or grief. Maybe you’ve felt restricted and you haven’t known it. Obstacles are your normal, much like blinking. Then a familiar beat drops, one that loosens chains. The song that quickens your feet. The promise God spoke to you decades ago. A new or old friend who reflects the desires of your heart. These divine moments, like cherished songs urging your feet to dance, call your soul to let go. When you take the step to release control, passion begins rise, along with belief. Hope echoes and faith clicks into place. This release is a profound decision to trust and admit that you can’t control life, people, or your own healing. God reigns over all things, and offers more.

While old tapes still play:

"I'll never measure up."
"I think God would be disappointed in me."
"I'll be found out as a fake."
"There won't be enough for me. There never has been."

You acknowledge the old recordings as burdens, and you act on a new kind of resistance. You resist the urge to give in to what was. This push back doesn’t restrict you, it lunges you forward into wholeness, love, and forgiveness. Your release thrusts you into the arms of Jesus where he sings the only rhythm you need to hear—

“I have set you free. Trust me first and only. I have planted your feet in a spacious place. The field is yours.”

My friend, now is the time to run, walk, rest, and dance in your freedom. When you release control, you just made a move to trust. Take up space because you can.