Page 100 of You're the Reason

She halted halfway through her turn and glared at him. “What?”

“You’re an amazing dancer, sure. And dancing was your passion for a while. But your heart wasn’t in that.” He pointed roughly in the direction of the stage.

“Would people stop saying that?” She dropped on her stool and started pulling the pins from her hair.

“What? The truth? You looked happier about those ridiculous cards I brought you than any one of your dances out there.”

Had she? She worked the hair screw out of her bun and then dropped it on the table.

“If you want to dance, then dance.” He appeared over her shoulder in the mirror. “But if you would rather be in Heritage teaching those kids, then there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Can you imagine what Mom and Dad would say?”

“Couldn’t be any worse than what they said when they found out Seth was helping me. Does that mean I shouldn’t get help?”

She spun on the stool to face him. “Who are you and what have you done with my brother?”

“Crazy, right?” He stepped back and leaned against the wall. “Turns out when you stop beating yourself up constantly, you don’t hate everyone else as much either.”

She stood and took a step toward him. “So, is this goodbye?”

“For a while.” He offered her a quick, shaky hug and then stepped toward the door. “I’ll look you up when I get out. And I will support you whether you’re still here on stage or back there in Heritage. Just make sure you follow what’s in there.”

He pointed to her heart, then was gone.

Grace collapsed into her chair. She reached over to the envelope of cards and pulled the stack out. The top one was a crayon drawing of what she thought was her standing by the mirror teaching. The rough image had her wearing a large smile and a pink tutu. Awkward, misshapen letters spelled outThank you for making me love dance.At least that’s what she thought it said.

Her heart filled at the words. She had shared her love of dance with someone else, and that knowledge brought her more joy than any she’d gotten while taking the stage.

One of the cards slipped to the floor, and she bent to get it. It was fancier stationery with flowers and script that looked more like an elaborate font than handwriting. It was from Ms. Margret.

1 John 3:1

See what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God.

Grace read it and read it again.

Was that how God saw her? As his child?

Was that a good thing or bad thing? Her mind flicked to her own father, who expected perfection. The image faded in her mind, replaced by others. Nate holding Charis tenderly even after she’d thrown a temper tantrum. Susie’s dad who worked two jobs just so she could dance. Seth’s dad had been kind, loving, giving.

She dug through more of the notes, each one gripping something inside of her. Maybe she had left her heart in Heritage, but it wasn’t only with Seth. She’d left her heart in that studio and with those kids.

Because she was more than a ballerina.

She was a teacher.

She was a friend.

But most of all her identity was God’s child. Even if she was only just beginning to understand what that meant.

And for the first time, she began to believe that God loved her whether she had the starring role of the biggest production in Chicago or no role, no job, unknown to anyone. She was known to Him.

She wasn’t sure she was ready to give up the identity of a dancer yet, but she did know that just as God gave her the gift of dance, He also gave her the gift of teaching. He gave her the gift of friendship. And God loved her no matter what she chose.

Grace stood and rushed out to find Alec. “I will finish this show, but tell Madame Laurent that I will not be auditioning for the fall show.”

He hesitated for a moment, then flipped through the clipboard. “Probably for the best.”

---