Don't Worry...Bee Happy

Before I start, I’d like to give a forewarning to the following individuals: My dad, either one of my grandparents, my pastor, and my beloved 2^nd grade teacher. If you’d like to keep the pure as the driven snow image of me, then this is a good stopping point. If you’re one of the people listed above and you’d like to throw caution to the wind, then I warn you, if you're not already sitting-you might want to go ahead and take a seat.

Confession time. I, Chancely Nicole Courson, have a tattoo. Yes you read that right. a tattoo.

For those of you who know me-this may be a shock. That may be an understatement. An astonishment of epic proportions could be more like it. The average person would never meet me and have me pegged as someone who would permanently mark their body…but, they would be wrong.

I’m still in the honeymoon stage so I still have that urge to climb to the highest rooftop and shout it out to all who will listen, I have the desire to roll down the car window and inform the person at the stoplight next to me that I I am one of the newest members to join the stained skin club. I have the yearning to tell the woman next to me in the Target checkout line, that despite my 5 foot stature-I am quite rebellious. Since Im sure you're on the edge of your seat, DYING to know what I chose as the masterpiece on the canvas that is my epidermis. Fine I'll tell you. It’s a bumble bee.

Here are the top 5 questions I’ve been asked about my tattoo since getting it:

1. What part of your body is it?

 Right side below my collarbone.

2. How big is it? 

50 cent piece.

3. Colored or black and white?

 Black and white.

4. Did it hurt? No.

5. Why a bumble bee? Well that answer may take a little longer to explain. I’ll take you back to the day I got it done. 

It’s May 4^th- the day after my 21^st birthday. 21 is arguably the most important birthday an individual will ever celebrate. Usually it’s because you’re now allowed to buy and (legally) consume alcohol. I’ve never been much of a drinker really, so this number wouldn’t hold the significance that it did for everyone else entering the big 2-1. I’d always wanted a tattoo, and I figured instead of waking up the next day with a hangover, I would rather wake up with a beautiful, sore, itchy scar of black ink.

I’d tried scheduling appointments several times before, but tattoo artists I've learned are not shall we say the most…structured, organized individuals.

I called that Wednesday afternoon and as luck would have it, there was an opening.

When I arrived it was painfully obvious just how much I did not belong there. Have any of you ever seen Sesame Street? You know the segment: One of these things is not like the other? Yeah that’s pretty accurate. As I walked in with my “Just a cupcake lookin’ for a studmuffin” shirt, leggings and converse (incase you were wondering I do now realize my outfit choice couldn’t have been more basic) the smell of rubbing alcohol assaulted my nose. The bright white lights made my eyes water and the taste of sanitizer somehow ended up in the back of my throat. I was escorted over to an artist who had a kind smile though this was disguised by the abundance of silver piercings covering his face. 14 to be exact. When I asked him his name-it couldn’t have been more appropriate. Needlez. In the back of my mind I wondered briefly if this was his Christian name, and if it wasn’t-what his mother thought of it. 

When Needlez got through classic questions numbers 1-4, he finally reached the 5^th. Why the bumble bee? Which is what I’m sure you’re wondering as well. If you’re not familiar with the scientific aspect of the bumble bee then buckle up kids! Time for a quick lesson! The bumble bee is much larger than any other bee in size-with their substantial physique, and thin wings it SHOULD be impossible for them to fly. Yet somehow…they do. As a result when they fly they are a bit clumsy and quite loud, but they stay focused on the task at hand. Collecting nectar for the hive and most importantly, their queen. Ill be the first to admit that I am somewhat of a ditz. I have been described as “flighty”, “clumsy”, “spacey”, “out for lunch”,  and so on… but you get the picture. With that being said most people underestimate me. They have a perception of me and feel that because I may take a break from the task at hand to watch a butterfly I cant get a job done. I identify with the bumble bee because I defy the odds. I defy expectations. I get a job done. Speaking of defying the odds…haven’t we all been taught that with God on our side all things are possible?

Aren’t we all just bees working to serve and please (not our Queen but) our one true King?  The body of Christ (the church) works a lot like a beehive don’t you think? God calls us to be workers (or worker bees) (3 John 1:8) to make life sweeter for those around us-the way we accomplish this is by doing our part to show the love and share the message of Christ to those welcome in contact with. If you didn’t know the bumble bee only stings if it feels threatened or you have threatened the queen or their hive. Other bees are the same, but once their stinger is gone-they die. If a bee is more willing to die for their queen than we are to take time during the day to pray or practice quiet time for our King than maybe we need to reevaluate our relationship with Christ. We could learn a lot from these precious creatures and I'm proud to have a permanent reminder of what devotion to a higher power looks like.

I’d like to leave you with a verse that also makes me think of my sweet bee.

“Gracious words are like honeycombs, sweet to the soul and healing to the bones”.

Proverbs 16:24

Go out, spread gracious words and serve your King above all others.

XOXO,

Chance

PS. if you’re a family member reading this I have a feeling when I receive a phone call from you later. Go easy on me!

A Dream Is A Wish Your Heart Makes

The feeling I get when performing remains indescribable. I am now twenty-one years old and still cannot find adequate words to sum up the rush. When taking those few precious steps that separate the curtain from the stage everything in this chaotic, confusing world all seems right. The heat from the spotlight radiates a certain warmth that somehow spreads all the way down from my fingers to my toes. The smell of the freshly polished stage under me causes my feet to crave a release through dance. But all of this deems nothing in comparison to the applause. When I finish performing and it comes time for bows, the applause remains the worst kind of addiction that I could spend an entire lifetime trying to kick with no avail. I sometimes compare myself to Tinker Bell because in a way, I need the applause to live. Most little girls have dreams of being a real life princess, like Diana or Kate. My dream was similar yet different. I wanted to be a princess, but a fake princess. For as long as I can remember I’ve had a dream of working as a character performer at Disney World. Every bucket list, every ten year plan, every 11:11 am OR pm wish on the clock all went into being a Disney character. Fast-forward to 2016, my junior year in college. I made the decision to go through the application process and eventually audition for the Spring 2017 program.

       There were several audition dates and locations and I decided to go to Atlanta, Georgia. The morning of October 4^th mom and I packed the car and headed to Atlanta. The car ride was nine hours. We stayed the night at a hotel and when I woke up the next day I began a set of rituals for the audition. Hair, make-up, vocal exercises, stretches, coffee and prayer. I felt as though I was having an out-of-body experience. It’s a crazy reality isn’t it – when you’re actually in the moment that you feel like your whole life has led up to so far?

After introductions from the casting director and choreographer they brought all of us into a ballet studio.  They taught us about a 45 second choreography routine and had us perform in groups of four for the director. I have never felt better about an audition in my life. I walked away knowing I had nailed it, my dance steps were on point, my gestures were big and tip: if your cheeks aren’t burning from smiling so wide after a performance-you’re not doing it right. After all of the contestants danced, our casting director told us that there would be some cuts before we went to the next round. I was number 112. He called the numbers and asked us to respond, “here”, as I prepared myself by forming the letter h with my mouth I heard him say “106, 107, 108, 128, 132” and so on…The ground fell from under me. As I was walking out of the room I peeked a glance and noticed the people who had stayed were mostly tall, skinny and strikingly beautiful girls with either olive skin, blonde hair or bright blue eyes. Years worth of insecurities flooded back: I had already determined that it was because I wasn’t skinny enough, tall enough or even pretty enough. I had driven nine hours to go to a 30-minute audition to be cut and now turn around to travel nine hours back home. I called my mom trying to be strong. It was when I saw her that howls began that would put a were-wolf on the night of a full moon to shame.

Fast forward - the next week was Fall Break and over the two-day vacation I took a trip with two of my friends to North Carolina. It was a nice escape but as soon as I was alone with my thoughts on that plane ride back home my mind was filled with the fog of self-doubt and loathing. There was a girl sitting next to me that I hadn’t paid any attention to - the only thing I noticed about her is that she had a love for rings and bangle bracelets. As the captain called over the intercom that we would make landfall in the next fifteen minutes I peered out the window, but my view was blocked by the girl’s arm resting across it. Before I could become frustrated that she was obstructing my view of the cotton candy colored sky, something caught my eye. There was a single medal hanging from one of her many bangles. The only medal. It was a huge gold medallion that read in clear black ink, “Everything Happens For a Reason”. You may call it a coincidence-I call it divine intervention.

            I will never forget what my friend Emelie said to me when I told her I had been cut at the audition… “maybe this is the universe’s way of telling you your personality is too bright to be hidden under a mask”. I was immediately struck by my favorite verse, Matthew 5:16-24. Don’t we do that as people? We forget about the light that shines out of us and from within us. The kind of light only possible when you have Jesus in your life. Just like in the verse, we should not be hidden. Whether that is by a bowl or a mask. We tend to hide our lights. What I hope you take away from this post is it’s extremely easy to say, “if you want to make God laugh-tell Him what your plans are” but it’s another thing entirely to live it. It is not and will not be easy, but has anyone ever said that being a Christian would be easy? Not to my knowledge. I’m not saying to “give up” on your dreams if something doesn’t work out the first go round because it’s not God’s will. No way! The casting directors will soon learn my name, my face, my eyes, even the freckle under my cheek because I will not give up on this dream until there’s nothing left to give. What I AM saying is in the end we will find that the clock of our lives does not tick at OUR pace, but rather HIS. The Lord works in mysterious ways. His ending to our story is something much more beautiful than we could have ever dreamed-simply because it was designed by Him and for Him.

           I hope you also remember to never let anyone dim your light. There will be those who attempt it-I can promise you that. Consciously or subconsciously they will try, but that doesn’t mean they will win. The only opinion we should be seeking approval of is our one TRUE King. In his eyes I am His Princess and, I would take that ANY day over Cinderella.

Leave a comment telling us a situation in your life that led you to believe that “everything happens for a reason”. 

XOXO,

Chance