Makenzie danced all over the United States. Missouri, Minnesota, Arizona, Louisiana, Texas, New York; many were impacted by this little ballerina named Makenzie. As a result of her influence and after she was killed, tributes of all sorts were created by those who love her. Youtube hosts many of these done by her fellow classmates and me as well (Click Here for her celebration service tribute video). Dance studios have choreographed pieces in her memory as a tribute to a life well lived and cut short. (Click Here for Caitlyn Cannon’s description of a tribute dance).
Last Saturday, the Minnesota Classical Ballet Academy – where Makenzie danced in grade school – dedicated a dance choreographed to Mozart’s Symphony No. 40 in honor of Makenzie. Within the context of the performance, a little girl occasionally walked on stage, mingled through the dancers and stood to the side, watching the others turn and move to the music. At one point, the little girl wearing lavender (Makenzie’s favorite color) knelt down and recited the words to our families evening prayer.
“Now I lay me down to sleep; I pray the Lord my soul to keep.
If I should die before I wake; I know the Lord my soul will take.”

We couldn’t hold back the tears and they washed down our faces as we were once again reminded of Makenzie’s purity, faith and joy. Surrounded by our friends, we watched the little ‘Makenzie’ stand up and be carried off by a man in white (God) as the dancers continued to perform with passion and grace.
At the end of the dance, as the last chord faded into the air, all of the performers slowly made their exit, save one. A lavender sashed ballerina, on pointe and back facing the audience, gracefully tiptoed off-stage, leaving an empty space the size of the one in our family. Wonderful. Stunning. Symbolic. Painful. But Beautiful as well. A tribute to my little ballerina who is dancing arm in arm with Jesus.
Peace
todd
Life Changing Links …
- Makenzie’s Celebration Service Online – Click Here
- Tribute Video played at her celebration service
- “I Dance For You My King” (Video: Makenzie’s song by Anthony Celia)
- “Image of Grace” (Video: Song written and played by Nathan Stocker)
- “Makenzie Memories” (a blog by one of her best friends, Katie Davis)
This past Sunday we celebrated ‘All Saints Day’ in the Church calendar. The day holds deep meaning and reverence as Christians everywhere remember those who have “gone before us” (as we gently say); those who, by God’s Grace, have been brought into His arms and whose lives while on earth, serve as examples to those of us still here. It is a festival, if you will; a festival that praises God’s Grace and the memory of the people we love.
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Yesterday, it happened again. And I noticed the same thing today. In the morning, the sun strolled up and out from sleeping behind the horizon. At mid-day, the clouds sauntered across the sky. Into the evening, the wind hushed it’s howling and Day graciously released her dominance to Night. Minute by minute, hour by hour, time marched on.
without her. However, because of the promise that God made me, Makenzie is not not in my tomorrows. Because she knows Jesus, believes in who He is and makes Him her King, Makenzie is living in His presence in the heaven that will one day be my home. Imagine; experiencing life with no sadness – no feeling of loss. Imagine; relationships that are pure and without envy or pain. The heaven that only Jesus can give is the totality of perfection, and … There will be no clocks.
Makenzie had a
This morning, Kellie gifted me with an hour-long massage at the spa residing in our hotel. Swanky and relaxing, the spa had all the accoutrement one expects when spending money just to have a backrub. Anyway, as I walked into the dimly lit room, Natasha (yes, that’s her real name) invited me to disrobe, climb under the covers that were draped neatly over the massage table and relax after she had given me a few private moments. Now, I have had a few of these things before so I sort of knew the drill. But this time, her exit was different than what I expected. As she was leaving, she pointed to a little, wicker basket that hung by the door. Woven into and hanging down from the rim of the basket were tattered, stringy braids; each ending with a sachet filled with pebbles, dried flowers and pixsy dust. (Ok, probably not pixsy dust but who knows; this is the epi-center of “spirituality,” so they say).
“My Idle Mind is Makenzie’s Playground”
When Makenzie died this past June, I never realized how deeply that wound cut. In my mind, I thought, “Ok, after a few weeks, things should be back to ‘normal.’” Foolish thought; especially in response to the loss of someone who brought so much joy to my life and the rest of the entire planet.