Not all dreams are big.
Not everyone wants to climb Mount Everest.
Or becoming a billionaire.
Or leap over buildings with a single bound and save the world with a cape.
Some dreams are smaller.
But that doesn’t make them less than.
That doesn’t make them insignificant.
That doesn’t make them unimportant.
To the dreamer?
They are the stuff of mountains.
This is Whitney.
One of my favorite dream followers.
She and her heart have always danced.
When she weighed 2.2 oz, she danced in her incubator.
When she was little she danced in her twirly whirly skirt.
When life handed her three eye surgeries she pointed her toes and danced up that mountain.
She grew up and danced for her drill team.
She learned to spin and twirl and point her toes and extend her arms and leap and jump and float across the football field.
(that’s little whitney on the left)
But the one thing she couldn’t get?
The one thing she couldn’t learn?
Her double turn.
No matter how hard she tried, no matter how much she worked on it, no matter how many times she twirled and fell and got up and twirled again…
…she couldn’t get it.
I watched her.
Try and try and try and try.
Months and months and months and months.
Over and over and over again.
It was heartbreaking.
So much determination. So many times of life knocking you down. So many times the dream was almost in your grasp.
Only to have it slip away.
And then last week this happened.
She was filming herself to see what she was doing wrong and see how to fix it and see what she needed to work on with her technique to figure out the elusive double turn. It’s only 8 seconds. If you blink, you might miss it. To some people, it might seem small or insignificant or unimportant. But I have watched it over and over and over again because to me, it’s so much more than just a video.
At the start you can see the look of determination on her face. The trying. The hoping. The never-let-it-defeat you look.
At the end?
The split second.
The moment that happens after weeks and months and hours and hours and hours of falling down and getting back up.
The moment when she finally, at long last….
….achieved her dream.
I want to imprint that moment on my heart forever.
For the storms ahead.
For the mountains yet to climb.
For the challenges and difficulties that life sometimes puts in our path.
You will accomplish great things in this world my little dancer.
You are my spinner and my tumbler and my twirler and my dog walker and my scripture memorizer and the one who brings home all the strays in the world and fixes them peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.
You have great dreams.
You have giant hopes.
You will change the world with your heart.
And throughout the months and years and mountains and dreams ahead I hope you point your toes…