I had a brief career in dance.

My mother took me to lessons every week in Mrs. Baxter’s basement.
She paid for the tutu, the tap shoes, and the tambourine.
I learned the shuffle-ball-change step and memorized the routine.

But when recital day came,
I refused to go on stage.

While my friends were lining up behind the curtain for the performance, my mother whisked me outside for a breath of fresh air and to dry some tears. She tried to convince me that I would be fine up there in the bright lights with a gymnasium full of people watching, but I stomped my little tap shoe on the parking lot blacktop and shook my head (and my tambourine). Then we got in the car and drove home.

There was no more talk of lessons after that,
officially ending my dance career at the age of five.

Somehow, that tambourine stayed with me through the years. It ended up in the dress-up box my children played with, along with my tutu. (I’ll spare my son the embarrassment of posting an adorable picture of him in the tutu.)

What prompted this traumatic memory?
I read Exodus 15 this week.

“Then the prophetess Miriam, Aaron’s sister,
took a tambourine in her hand,
and all the women came out following her
with tambourines and dancing.”
Exodus 15:20

Dear Miriam.

Moses and Aaron’s big sister was among the Hebrew slaves who left Egypt in haste, not taking time to let their bread rise. The people grabbed what they could and got out quick, before Pharaoh changed his mind again. As Miriam gathered up a few things, she saw her tambourine and thought, “I’m going to need that someday.” So she stuffed it in her bag and carried it with her as she walked between the Red Sea walls of water. Then she watched as the walls collapsed on the Egyptian army. In awed silence, the Hebrew people stood on the shore—safe and free and delivered.

Miriam knew what to do.
She picked up her tambourine and gave it a mighty shake.
She did a victory dance and sang, “He has triumphed gloriously!”
Evidently, she told all her girlfriends to pack their tambourines as well.
The ladies led the people in songs of worship.

There’s a beautiful truth here.
When you’re in the midst of chaos and in great need of deliverance—
when the enemy is in hot pursuit and you seem to be cornered—
when your only way out is through an unfamiliar path—
don’t forget to bring along your tambourine.

Someday you’ll need it.
You will dance again.