We can all be dangerous—in a good way. We are all called to fight for what we believe in. What that looks like for each one of us might be surprising. Here is how one woman chose to confront her past head-on and create something beautiful.
Written from an interview with Rebecca Watson, who attends the Seacoast Mount Pleasant Campus.
I can’t say I had a normal childhood because I don’t really know what that is. My mother chose me out of a book. At three months old, I was selected from a Korean adoption agency’s photo album by a Jewish couple in Maryland.
My sweet adoptive parents, I choose to believe, had no idea that I suffered abuse at the hands of a close family member. Once—only once, I tried to tell my mother, calling her on the phone while she was at work. But with her chronic hearing problems, she didn’t seem to understand what I was saying. I could hardly stand to say it out loud, let alone yell it.
Over the years, I told no one and kept my relationships pretty superficial. I never quite felt safe. I had lots of boyfriends, but trusted them only to a certain point. I married and divorced before finding the right one.
A Needed Outlet
Dance has always has been an outlet for me. There is freedom in movement. You can express joy, love, and pain in a way that doesn’t need words. You can feel it in the music, in the extension of an arm, in literally taking a flying leap across a stage.
Holding a Bachelor of Fine Arts in Dance Performance, I joined a modern dance troupe in New York City, and later, some professional ballet companies in the Southeast. Unfortunately, the ballet company in South Carolina closed, leaving me jobless. I stopped dancing. To support my children, I became a licensed massage therapist.
“You can express joy, love, and pain in a way that doesn’t need words.”
The man I was dating at the time became involved in drugs, and the deeper he got, the more abusive he became. But he did tell me about Seacoast’s auditions for an upcoming production called The Thorn, about the Passion of the Christ. Automatically, I shook my head, no. I hadn’t danced in so long. And an audition for a church production? I wasn’t a believer. I had been raised Jewish.
But at the last minute, I went. Arriving at Seacoast, I recognized the woman leading the audition! I’d given her a massage at the spa where I worked. That familiarity helped me forget my doubts and focus on dancing.
I joined the ballet cast for a Christian production, before I became a Christian. Being around believers was interesting. The Thorn touring company began meetings with Bible readings and prayer time. We did shows in places like Austin, Charleston, Colorado Springs, Denver, Memphis, Nashville, Portland, and Seattle. The tour staff prayed over the seats before every show and for prayer requests left on the cross, afterward.
“I joined the ballet cast for a Christian production, before I became a Christian.”
Enter Seacoast: Stage Right
Things worsened with the man I was seeing. Alone, I often went to Seacoast’s Saturday AND Sunday services. One day, an older couple approached me and said, “We’ve been watching you for a while now. We don’t know what you’re going through, but if you need anyone to talk to, we’re here.” To know that someone had noticed me, that someone cared… Do you know what kind of difference that makes?
My third year touring for The Thorn—it happened. Watching a rehearsal of the crucifixion scene I’d seen tons of times, suddenly it was different. The depth of the sacrifice and the realness of the spiritual world sunk into me. All of my life I had felt as if I never really belonged. But Christ loved me enough to die for me. It was then I surrendered my heart to him and he gave me my true identity. I know whose I am and what true acceptance looks like. So I wear the tattoo: “In your never failing love, you work all things for good. God whatever comes my way, I will trust you.”
I’m no longer scared to dig into my brokenness. Christ can heal any hurt that I surrender to him. Step by step, I will take this path and trust that it leads somewhere wonderful. I’m now married to a strong Christian man, and we’re raising three children in a beautifully blended family. The same incredible power that raised Christ from the grave is inside of me—so every day I remind myself to use it to step forward boldly because…I. Am. Dangerous.
What about you? Our Chosen women’s conference is coming up in October—Dangerous 2018. Join us in discovering how—as Charlotte Gambill, one of our great speakers, says—we can “embrace the broken and become ambassadors of hope.” For more information, visit chosenwomensconference.com.
Photo Credit: Gary and Melinda McElveen