We went to a dance event tonight. It was a country event, but we came for the west coast swing finals part of it, and the social dancing after those events. My man and I did.
And it was awesome.
We danced with each other and with other people. I gave him a sort of mini lesson after we first went downstairs and he got a bit overwhelmed just by seeing everything. (Apparently he had spent the whole day being scared and nervous and trying to create reasons not to come because of that. I had kept asking him all day what was wrong and what was going on, since he was being so snippy and unkind toward me and stressed and all. He had only ever told me that he just needed to ‘get over it’ about each little thing.m, though he never really did… until we started dancing, that is.) He then asked me to dance in the main room before and after the competitions and awards, and he voluntarily sought out four other women and danced with them (always while I was out of the room, naturally). And he and I danced more and more, and I showed him more and more bits, and he got better and better. And it was awesome.
I had begun being comfortable with the idea that I likely would not get to do west coast swing with my husband, whoever he would be, because I never much liked the men who would frequent events and get involved in the typical social culture of dance events and all – read ‘lots of alcohol and sleeping around and being pompous’ – and found it unlikely I would meet my man at any event. And then this guy showed up. In our first night of knowing one another, he voluntarily offers up that he grew up doing a bit of ballroom for kids, and that his favorite dance was probably west coast swing. He’d only learned a bit, and it was all self-taught, but he loved it. And so, God blesses us…
Thank you, God, for this lovely opportunity. Thank you for bringing my man and me together. Thank you for this awesome step into the dance world for the both of us this weekend. Phew. Thank you. In your name, I pray. Amen.