We encounter the unbelievable on a regular basis: the tropical fish that can survive out of water for months at a time, the child born with eight limbs, the man that ate his way through an entire car, rust and all.

Lorraine is 95 years old. She is slumped in a wheelchair now, but her body holds the residue of soft fluid lines, shoulder to hip, hip to knee, knee to ankle. Arms hang akimbo, each jutted in a slightly different direction. Her hair is swept around at the nape of her neck in a soft bun; her mouth, down-turned at the edges and mostly unresponsive. But her eyes, those gray eyes were sharp. And they cut me that day.

When I opened the waiting room door to wheel her into the examination room, she surprised me with the unbelievable. She lowered her voice conspiratorially, struggled to raise her neck, and looked up, her eyes unclouded.

“You know, I was a dancer once,” she said. She shifted her gaze to her spindly legs, mere straw shafts under loose fitting stretch pants. Her metal cane made a hollow scraping noise against the spokes of the wheelchair as we turned a corner. “I began dancing when I was seventy-five years old. My children and grandchildren had grown up and I realized it was time to do what I was created to do. I was just a little bit late.”

The joy moving over her face was unbridled. No longer was she 95 and wheelchair-bound, reserved and uncertain. All signs of anxiety visibly drained from her face as she stopped to remember the pirouettes and petit allegros. She had known what she wanted and went after it. Recklessly.

What’s holding us back from living a life of such complete reckless abandonment, a life that is so filled with the passion and drive that we only look to the future, rather than becoming weighed down with the past? What’s it going to take for us to make bold moves for God outside of the normal routine? For us as a generation to rise up and execute a peaceful revolution, one grounded in God’s love, grace, and faithfulness?

I think part of it lies in understanding what God created each of us to do.

So often I forget that God has a unique plan for each one of us, one that allows for the dual purpose of serving Him in heaven and His people here on earth; a plan that allows us to use our His gifts for His glory, no matter the talent; a plan that will bring us unspeakable joy just by following His cues.

Why then do we have such a hard time grasping all that God wants to give to us?
This is a call for action: for the artists, the number-crunchers, the musicians, the handymen (and women), the teachers, the socialites, the librarians, the computer scientists and the political scientists alike. For the weary and the strong, the shy and the outspoken, the healed and the broken.

Embrace the talent that God has instilled in you. Use it to bring glory to His name, to reach out to each other, to form lines of mutual understanding and edification.

Don’t give into the unbelievable– dance recklessly. Know the song that’s on the tip of your tongue. Sing it boldly, just as you were created to do.