Allyn and I were married two years ago this December. At our wedding reception (which was epic BTW) we did a choreographed waltz to Norah Jones’ song “Come Away with Me” and it was a lot of fun and really, really good for our marriage. Now I’m not talking about the song itself or any of the deep theological principles found in its lyrics (hah!), but rather the preceding experience of learning to dance.
Our first attempt at a dip – note the ease and grace with which I let my fiance lead me and the death grip I have on his right arm!
Let me throw some advice out there: if you are in a serious relationship and want to experience a little heat then you should take dance lessons. Let me add a clarification so as not to disappoint any of you or cause you to think that this blog has taken a salacious turn. When I refer to “heat” I mean the kind of situational intensity that causes your true personality to rise to the front. The kind of activity where you are so overwhelmed by multitasking and working together with another fallen human being that you are unable to maintain the mask of niceness. This kind of heat is very good for a relationship. It pries away the facade that we can put on when we are at our best and reveals what really lies underneath. It is a small picture of what marriage is and what it was created to do. The Bible uses word imagery to evoke a similar idea – God uses the furnace of trials to bring up the dross (basically the yucky, impure stuff) and purify the gold.
Let me give you the basics of the two personalities that God has melded in this marriage of ours. Allyn is laid-back. He is a phlegmatic kind of guy and can easily just go with the flow. He has ample amounts of patience. He is very smart and can be a perfectionist at times, but he can be slowed down by his engineerish drive to do the research so he can really understand how a thing works from the ground up. I am not laid-back. I am driven by my to do list, by unrealistic expectations that I put on myself, and by some amount of a deep need to people please (not my best quality). I don’t do patience very well, and especially not when it comes to extending patience and grace to myself. I like to be good at things and I like for things to be easy. Put me in a situation where the task is difficult, I am not naturally inclined toward it, and others are watching, and you will see me struggle. No more mrs. nice guy.
With that picture in mind you can just imagine how our first few lessons went. I felt like I picked up on my steps pretty quickly and decided that I would help Allyn with his. So when he took a moment to process and try to remember what came next I would ever so gently force him toward the direction he was supposed to go. I do this because I love him and I am a helpful and considerate soul. Or maybe because I love me and I am an impatient and ungracious dancer.
So we battled through the first few lessons until Allyn finally told me (more kindly than I would have told me) that my helping was not, um, helpful. I had to learn to be patient and let him figure out his steps because, truly, his job is a lot harder than mine. When dancing with a partner it is the man’s job to make the woman look good. Really. His job was not only to know his steps but to lead me as we waltzed or foxtrotted across the floor. What I came to realize later was that his job got even harder in the context of a crowded ballroom. Now he not only had to know his steps and lead me in the direction we were dancing, but he also had to be aware of what was going on next to us and how to get us across the floor without colliding with other couples. My job was to know my steps, to relax, and let him lead. I had to trust him – to trust that when it came time to really do this he would know his steps and that he would have my best in mind. What a picture of marriage.
Taking a twirl at our reception
Allyn and I have not “arrived” in our marriage or in our dance ability, and I’m not sure that we ever will, but we are thankful for this gift of marriage and for the refining work that it does.
