Beauty for Ashes

Angela Thomas spoke on this subject during one of her talks at Beauty for Ashes 2010. How about making a short study of the points below during your Quiet Time?

God is peace – 1 Thessalonians 5:23

When we become followers of Jesus, we can have His peace – John 16:33

Staying connected to God gives us peace – John 15

The Spirit of God produces peace in our lives – Galatians 5:22

The deep, abiding peace from God is almost unexplainable – Philippians 4:7

Kerry Gibson was the newest, cutest guy on the scene when I was in the eleventh grade. He went to a high school across town, and a lot of the girls at my school had fallen for his million dollar smile and that “every mother would love him” charm. I had seen Kerry Gibson entertaining the girls after football games at Sir Pizza, but Kerry Gibson had never seen me. As a matter of fact, he had no idea that I existed. And it didn’t surprise me. I’ve worn glasses since I was eighteen months old. In elementary school, classmates and neighborhood kids tagged me as “four eyes.” And a few years later, for full effect, we added three and a half years of braces. Don’t get me wrong, no one ever called me ugly and no one ever laughed in my face, it’s just that no one ever noticed.

I think it was sometime around February my junior year when a new teen dance club opened. One Saturday, my committee of girlfriends spent the whole day deciding what each of us should wear, calling to see who else was planning to go, and worrying about our hair until there was no use and we just had to go with the hair we had. I was looking forward to being with my friends, laughing, sipping a soda, and as usual, watching everyone else dance the night away.

At some point that night my circle of friends huddled together, talking to a few of the guys from our school. Over walks handsome in a pair of Levi’s. You guessed it, Kerry Gibson. In his best Animal House impersonation he says to the guy next to me, “Mind if I dance with your date?”

The guy beside me couldn’t get it out fast enough: “Man, she’s not with me.” And our whole circle stood there with mouths agape as if to say, “Kerry, are you sure? It sounds like you’re asking Angela to dance.” I was the most dumbfounded of all. It felt like a dream I’d had a million times; the cutest guy in the room was asking me to dance. I stood there patiently waiting to wake up. There was no way that Kerry Gibson had just asked me to dance. 

“Hey, I’m Kerry.” Reality was intersecting with a dream. “Do you want to dance?”

“Okay,” I mumbled, realizing that every person who knew me was staring in disbelief. The wallflower had just been asked to dance. I don’t remember breathing. I was so afraid of ruining the whole thing.

Well, we danced. I wish I could remember the song. Some late 70s disco number. And I’m telling you, I could dance. I had practiced in my room for years, and not one groovy move was wasted. But the song was over way too soon. His act of charity was coming to an end. I could feel it—the good deed was over. I smiled at Kerry, said, “Thanks for the dance,” and turned to walk away. But then bless him, I mean it, God bless him, Kerry Gibson , “Wait, do you want to keep dancing?” I think I nodded yes, and we danced every dance until I had to go home.

Do you want to keep dancing?  The question still rings in my head. It makes me cry and smile and whisper a prayer for my daughters, “God, make sure someone asks them to keep dancing.”

Do you remember the first time you were ask to dance? Do you remember being noticed? Do you remember the crazy thing that happens in your stomach when a handsome man walks toward you? What is that? And why does it make us feel like we’re floating? Are you smiling in the remembering? I am.

A good part of my life has been like that night in the eleventh grade. I know that I am at the dance. I see everyone else having a great time. I am enjoying the music and the people. But I’m not really sure anyone sees me. I am polite and fun . . . and hesitant. Maybe I’m always supposed to stand in the back and wave to my friends at the front. Maybe my life is supposed to be a supporting role. I have wondered if I was made to be a wallflower. And I have told myself that it would be okay if I was.

If life was a dance, one day I began to hear the music but wasn’t ever sure that someone would walk across the room and call my name. There have been seasons when I decided my life was supposed to be that way. Everyone else got pulled onto the dance floor and some were bold enough to run out and boogie by themselves, but I couldn’t. Maybe it just wasn’t meant for me. I felt my feet want to. It sure did look like fun. “Nah,” I’d tell myself, “quit dreaming about dancing and go make dinner.”

Here is what I am learning about God. There are no faceless women standing around the edge of the room with Him. He did not bring you to the dance just shove you into a corner and tell you to have a great time watching. You were made for strobe lights, and you do not have to shuffle around in the shadows hoping that one day it’ll be your turn. You are not just one of the crowd. God sees you, and He sees me. He walks across the room, looks directly at you, and says that you are beautiful. You are not a wannabe to Him, and neither am I. He calls out every wallflower, I mean every single one, and asks her to dance.

Do you know what the dance is? The dance is your life. The dance is you in the arms of God gliding around the center of the room, becoming the woman He thought of when He dreamed of you. To dance is to say, “I can do that,” and then to magnificently step out into the strength of God’s call and shine. To dance is to grab hold of what you were made to be and then let Him show you how to become.

- Angela Thomas is a mother of four and the best-selling author of Do You Think I’m Beautiful? Visit http://www.angelathomas.com for details.