Leap Into Grace: Dancing With Jesus in 2026

Do you have a word or scripture that God gives you every year?

Usually around October, before the new year even begins, Jesus gives me a word for the year ahead. From October through December, He gently prepares me for it. Sometimes I don’t fully understand it at first, and honestly, most of the time I don’t even like the word. 😂 That’s usually how I know it’s from God.

Last year, in 2025, I received a word that I later realized wasn’t for the year ahead but for the season I was already walking through. The deeper I stepped into that season, the clearer it became.

Then in December of 2025, Jesus gave me my word for 2026:

Grace.

This time, I accepted it right away, but I didn’t really understand it. Growing up, grace was always explained to me in the context of salvation: God giving us Jesus, something we don’t deserve. Beautiful and true… but that’s where my understanding stopped.

One morning while eating breakfast, I had my journal open and pen in hand when Jesus began whispering more about grace to my spirit. I started writing, and suddenly I couldn’t shake the image of a ballerina dancing.

Then my focus shifted to her shoes.

When ballerinas take off their shoes, you see the truth of their preparation and pain. Feet taped up. Scars. Bruises. Blisters. Evidence of pressure and endurance. None of that shows while they’re dancing, on stage they move with elegance, strength, and grace.

It’s only when the shoes come off that the hurt is revealed.

That image stopped me in my tracks.

It reminded me of the last two years of my life, the pressure I put on myself, the unrealistic expectations, the striving, the trying to control outcomes, even trying to force God’s promises instead of trusting His timing. (Hello, Sarah-and-Hagar energy.) It was like open-heart surgery, removing strife from deep within me.

Jesus was the only one who could see underneath my ballet slippers.

And this isn’t just about me, it’s about you, too.

Think about everything you’ve been through. Jesus sees you. Maybe He has already healed you. Maybe you’re still in the middle of the healing. Either way, He knows the pain that doesn’t show on the outside.

So from your Kingdom sister to you: let Him work. It can hurt so deeply—but there is beauty in the process. I’m cheering you on. And if you ever need prayer, reach out.

Consistency Through Grace

This January, my focus is consistency through grace.

For me, that means learning I don’t always have to be stage ready.

My bun doesn’t have to be perfect. My makeup doesn’t need to be done. My tutu doesn’t have to sparkle. I can show up messy, imperfect, and authentically me, and still walk in grace.

I’ve struggled with perfectionism, and perfectionism is rooted in strife. Grace dismantles that.

If someone shows up expecting a polished performance and I’m not stage-ready, I’m learning to let that be okay. There is healing in the mess, because Jesus met me there.

I will always wear my tiara, though.

I’m God’s daughter. And if anything shines, it’s my Heavenly Father. ;) :)

HELLO KINGDOM CONFIDENCE!!!!

From Recovery to Dancing

I’m not recovering anymore.

I’m dancing.

I’m not hiding the fact that I was hurt, I’m embracing it. My scars may still be visible, but they’re no longer open wounds. They give me depth, strength, and compassion to step out and share what Jesus can do.

“I am able to do all things through Him who strengthens me.” Philippians 4:13

This verse is my floor, the one I leap from.

I trust that when I leap, Jesus is there to support and strengthen me. I’m not leaping into burnout or striving; I’m leaping into the One who sustains me.

I’m moving at a slower pace so I can actually experience His grace.

With consistency, I show up daily, testing the floor, standing at the barre, stretching, and centering myself with Jesus. In ballet, without a strong core, you lose balance. Jesus is my core. When old strife tries to creep back in, I return to the barre and get re-centered in Him.

The Grand Jeté

Right now, I feel like I’m in my grand jeté—the leap.

I feel like I’m flying. My fire is back, the fire I wasn’t sure I’d ever feel again.

And I’ve learned this: if I try to leap using only my own strength, I’ll burn out. But when I move with the momentum of the music, I can dance longer, freer, and with joy.

The music I’m dancing to is the Holy Spirit, leading, guiding, and sustaining me in the performance of life.

So here it is:

Goodbye, strife.

It’s time to leap into the grace of 2026.

And I’m inviting you to dance with me.