I’m a single lady living in a primarily-coupled world. Most of my days, I am intent on and quite happy to live my life; to move forward in this world with purpose and prayer. And I tend to enjoy doing it in the season I currently find myself in: as one whole person… a singular soul.
There are times, though, that I find myself missing someone I have yet to truly know. As a girl who does believe that by the grace of God she’ll find herself rocking a ring someday, there are times that I miss the person who will join my singular soul and make us a plural “one,” as twos often become.
Like when I’m standing at a good friend’s wedding, watching all my friends dancing to a slow song in pairs and I have nothing to do but watch.
oh, I want to dance with somebody…
This was the case this summer at a best friend’s beautiful wedding. I was a bridesmaid, and there on my own. No family, no date, just me and a few friends in the bridal party. I had a blast in my long, flowy dress with my hair curled and pinned and my makeup done. But that time came, late in the evening, when the dance floor changed from lassos and the cupid shuffle to soft sways and love-filled eyes… and I found myself on the sidelines, watching my fellow bridesmaids, each dancing with a spouse or groomsman.
The moment was a little awkward. (It was my middle school wallflower-at-the-dance awkward moment that I never actually had in middle school.) I mean, I’m used to not dancing to slow songs. I’m used to being the individual, not a pair. But sometimes, I just want to dance with somebody.
And as though my desire was known, up the stairs came M, the groomsman I was paired with for the wedding. He offered me his hand and asked me to dance, and for about half a song, we did. It wasn’t magical or romantic… but it was a nice break from sipping water and circling the room. It was also my first real dance with a boy, and I realized that while it’s good to get outside my comfort zone sometimes, I truly would rather wait for most of the slow dances. Because the chorus of the song has an ending that makes a world of difference.
oh, I want to dance with somebody… with somebody who loves me.
I realized that I don’t want to sway on the dance floor to sweet songs with just anyone. I want to slide and glide and twirl with someone whose heart is in it; someone who loves me. I want to dance with the man who waits all night for the slow song so he can have that dance that gives him an excuse to hold me close. I want to be choose-y. Not closed off, or pining away, or hidden in the shadows, but aware that there’s a line I’ve drawn, behind which lies dances that I mean to save for someone special. Aware that I’ll probably be watching my friends sway their way through three slow songs in a row while I watch.
And that’s okay.
Because I know what I want. I believe that someday- maybe not as soon as I’d like; maybe much sooner than I’d expect – I’ll have a dance with my very own somebody. And another. And another. And eventually, I’ll have a full-time dance partner who sways with me, eyes full of love, to songs full of sentiment.
Until then, I’ll enjoy lassoing in my best friends and doing my signature dance move. I’ll make faces across the way to a friend before we start dancing toward each other. I’ll keep learning slightly ridiculous dances like the Wobble and laugh myself silly doing it. Right now, I’m going to live my life. I’m going to dance and sing and laugh and love, right where I am. I’m going to do it as a singular soul, but not as a lonely one. I have love and peace and joy. And when God tells me to move from this season to another, I’ll do so, having experienced the fullness of this singular life.
Right now, I’ll take the quiet solitude of the slow dances I miss and listen to the whispers of God’s love I hear in them.
Right now, I’ll be thankful for this time, this life, His love.
Right now, I am single and experiencing life alongside my First Love. We are dancing; He spins me ’round as I laugh in surprise. We smile at each other before He holds me close. I move, He ever close beside me, as feet glide across the floor. I have His love- real, beautiful, near.
And that is enough.