I spent my high school years on our school’s dance team. Every year we went to a UDA camp in the summer to learn new dances, have fun and bond, and to compete. Every year we played a game called “Drill Downs” that required incredible discipline and focus. A Simon Says-type game, military commands such as “atten-hut,” “hand salute,” and “parade rest,” were called out and you had to follow them promptly, completely, and precisely. The last dancer standing won.
I was good at Drill Downs. It was easy for me to tune everything out and hone in on the voice calling out the drills. It was easy for me to maintain control over my body, my mind, and my emotion so that I was ready to do exactly what that voice said at exactly the right time. It was easy for me to execute things precisely because I am a perfectionist.
For me, the greatest challenge came with the command “parade rest.” With your hands behind your back, your head down, and your eyes fixated on the floor, you are unable to move from parade rest until the command “atten-hut” is called; any other movement means you are out of the game. This presented the greatest challenge for me because the waiting, the stillness, and the silence brought anxiety. I battled the wonderings of what would be called next, when it would be called, and how many other people were left standing. Anxiety came in the resting, the stillness, and the waiting. But once another drill was called - even if it were four or five called back-to-back, I was golden; it was easy for me to obey in rapid succession once I started moving.
Twenty years later, there is still a voice that calls out drills, it is just not that of a UDA dancer. It is the voice of my Abba Father.
Twenty years later, I am not good as good at Drill Downs.
It is difficult for me to tune everything out and hone in on His voice, primarily because most of the time, my own voice is much louder. It is difficult for me to maintain control over my body, my mind, and my emotion and so I am not only not ready to obey what He says, I can’t hear what He says. I am still a perfectionist (but could now more accurately label myself as a “perfectionist who relaxes at times”) and I am confident I have the ability to execute His calling of me precisely (mostly because I know His grace and mercy cover me when I am not precise).
Today, He called out a drill. It was the first time in quite a while that I was able to tune everything out and hone in on His voice. Because I was a bit emotional and my mind was running rampant, I sought wisdom regarding acting on His drill and received double confirmation. As I acted on the first drill, He called out another to do in conjunction with it.
In the moments before He called out this first drill, I felt as I did twenty years ago while in parade rest in the gym at Western Michigan University. I knew He would speak, but I wasn’t sure what He would say or when He would say it. Once He called out, it was easy to obey - even with drills coming in succession - because I had already begun to move.
After precisely executing the two drills He called out, He called me to return to the place I still dislike the most: parade rest.
Despite being seasoned throughout the passing years, waiting in parade rest still feels similar to what it felt like twenty years ago. Having been seasoned through many calls to parade rest, I know He will call out another drill. The fact that I don’t know what it will be or when He will call it still isn’t comforting, but what is comforting is having experiential knowledge that if I keep resting here, with my heart and my hands open to receive, He will call out another drill.