Then when Nick and I first came to Japan in 2015 and stayed with a host family for a month, it turned out that the two teenage daughters participated in a dance workshop every summer that was taught by a secular American group. They graciously invited us to watch one of their practices one day, and I was blown away to see how deeply affected those teens were. They seemed to just throw all their cares aside for the moment and seemed so vulnerable through the practice. It just made me think, wow, imagine what this could do if it were intended for the Lord!
So the thought of me using dance for ministry in Japan was born in my mind. Yet, there was always something that kept me from feeling attached to the idea. Perhaps it’s as simple as saying that God never really called me to do it. I just liked the idea of it. (Plus, there’s the fact that I have zero dance training and am truthfully nowhere near skilled enough to teach or perform – and that’s not me being modest. I am genuinely around the level of being able to make it through a Zumba class). Nevertheless, when it came time to decide what to do for an internship and I had nothing else set before me, I figured I’d try for the one thing I always thought would be super cool.
Thus began my sporadic adventures in taking dance classes in Tokyo. After insanely googling dance ministries that are actually active during the pandemic and exist in the area, I found myself signing up for random classes and workshops here and there. Though I usually felt like a fool not being able to bend or twirl as elegantly as any of the other girls, I continued searching for a place where I could make good connections in the hope of eventually finding a place where I could volunteer in some way.
Cue story time.
On one occasion I signed up for a single class at a workshop that was somewhat far away. Now, you should know that I am terrible at navigation and have a horrible sense of direction, so it was no surprise that I got lost on the way there. I almost gave up and decided to return home, but I finally found my way and was only going to be a few minutes late. Then I found out that I went to the wrong location. Now it’s really time to really go back home, right? Too late. Apparently somebody was already on the way to come rescue me. I’m thinking, great, on top of it all, now I’ve also burdened all these people. At least the actual place is apparently only a few minutes away by car, so it should be fine. Guess again! The car itself is only a few minutes away, but the destination is another 20 minutes. I arrive 30 minutes late to a 50-minute class. Finally class is over and I give my apologies and express my thanks, hoping to end this embarrassing episode. Then walks in a teacher I met at another dance class who invites me to stay for lunch and the following class (insisting that I don’t need to pay for these extra perks). It is then that I get the opportunities to meet the most wonderful people and have amazing conversations, particularly with the couple that runs the whole program and drove me to and from the train station. On the long train ride home, I couldn’t keep from smiling, thinking about how I almost threw away this experience because I had to keep relying on others for help and wanted to give up. It was definitely humbling, but in a fantastic way.
I was so hopeful that I had managed to do some quality networking at that workshop.
As it turned out… not really. It wound up being just like every other dance class I went to: somehow becoming a one-time type of affair where I made no concrete contacts and no opportunities came out of it in the end.
After months of still feeling lost in what to do as my next steps, I asked a friend of mine who is getting certified as a Co-Active Coach to meet with me a few times to help me get unstuck in my thinking about this whole internship thing. Dance didn’t seem to be working out, but it obviously meant something.