Miss Independent Fell In Love

Some would say I’m a little independent.  Or a lot independent.  And I suppose it’s true–I’ve gone and done and seen a lot in 27 years.  The thing is, even the most independent of us are still prone to falling in love…

The Meeting

The story of our meeting may seem random.  Because it was.  We met at a Lindy-Hop exchange in Knoxville, TN in October of 2007.  An exchange is an entire weekend devoted to swing dancing–Lindy-Hop and related dances in particular.  Yes, these events really do exist.  People gather from near and far just to dance with each other, day and night.  It was at one of the “late nights”, a dance that goes into the wee hours of the morning, that Erin Young (now Fassl) introduced them.  She and Seth had danced together a few times that day, during which Erin found out Seth also lived in Nashville.  Always eager to connect local dancers, Erin introduced Seth to Shawna Johnston and to me, and the three of us formed a fast friendship.

The next afternoon, Seth and I found ourselves enjoying the sunshine and some good conversation on a grassy knoll at an afternoon dance and pig roast.  At that moment, Seth knew he was a goner.  He knew he was in for something special in getting to know his new-found friend.  I, on the other hand, was enjoying myself but was pretty clueless about Seth’s little epiphany.  Over the next weeks and months back in Nashville, Seth began hanging out with his new dancing friends and getting to know us better.  This consisted of a large variety of activities, from dumpster diving to church to dancing, all of which afforded him the opportunity to get to know me (and the others, of course!) a little bit better.

Meanwhile, I found it mysterious that this boy I had just met came to hear my stories from Mozambique, where I had spent the previous summer.  Other than this, I remained clueless, but still enjoyed our new friendship.  Then, in December of that year, I began a new job teaching 7th grade English in one of the roughest school’s in Nashville.  Through the extremely difficult semester that followed, I learned that I could count on Seth to cheer me up and give a listening ear after a bad day (and most of the days were pretty bad).  Whether it was with a surprise hot chocolate and a back rub, going for drinks, or just dancing on Saturday night, Seth brought some joy in a dark time.

When the semester finally ended (Praise Jesus!!!), I needed a change of scenery and took a trip to Europe to visit friends and family.   Unbeknownst to poor Seth, I was seeking employment in London while there, wanting to flee the world of American Public Education.  Fortunately for both of us, God had other plans.  I was not granted a visa and returned to Nashville to look for a new job—and a new place to live.  Still Seth was there, to help me move out of my apartment, to provide a garage in which to store my things while I was couch-hopping for a month, and then to help me move my things into my new home.  He was there to play pool and dance downtown, to watch movies on his roommate’s gigantic television, and, of course, to dance (and frequently drop me on the floor) on Saturday nights.  And he was there to celebrate with me when I found a job teaching Kindergarten for the following school year.

After a disappearing act of his own (while switching jobs), Seth started finding excuses to call me again, usually related to a dance.  On one Saturday afternoon before a dance that night, I, as I sometimes tend to do, had locked my keys in my car.  Having AAA membership, Seth offered his services and magically appeared to spend the next 3 hours waiting with me and then to buy me dinner “because you’ve had a long day and I had a good day at work.”  A couple weeks later, while I was home recovering from Strep Throat, Seth texted to ask me to the Vandy homecoming game.  This happens to be my alma mater, and Seth happened upon tickets to the game.  I agreed to go and Seth rushed from work to pick me up.  Unfortunately, the friend who had given him tickets had also given him bad information, and the game was over by the time he got to my house.  But the evening was not lost, as the two of us went to Sarah Burros’ house for Susanna’s yummy taco soup (where it was Seth and all the Vandy grads).  After that, Seth and I found ourselves talking for hours, late into the night.  It was then that I realized I had feelings for my friend and it was then that Seth decided he’d be crazy not to make a move.

The next weekend, it was me and all the Greenville grads, as I went with Seth to a Housewarming/Halloween party at Jacob and Katie Eckeberger’s apartment.  After some shameless flirting and time that passed too quickly, we ended up back at Seth’s house watching the childhood classic ET.  It was then that Seth made his move…and held my hand (aw, how sweet).  This was the beginning of what would turn out to be a rich and meaningful relationship—just two weeks before we returned to the Knoxville Lindy Exchange, where we had met the year before.

The 7 months that followed were filled with late night walks, hours-long conversations, sunrise on Love Hill and early morning trips to the Pancake Pantry; joint experiments in the kitchen, goofy things that make us laugh, meeting friends and small group at the Kuos; spending holidays together, the Winter Solstice party at the Marion farm, and MLK weekend in Atlanta; dancing and kisses (lots of kisses) and falling in love.

The Proposal

Then, on May 31st, Seth took me to Sambuca, a nice restaurant downtown that has live music and amazing food. His excuse for this rather nice date was that it was our 7 month anniversary, and we didn’t celebrate 6 months because his parents were in town. He had informed me that morning that we had a date that night, telling me to wear something nice that made me feel pretty. That evening, Seth picked me up and surprised me with reservations at Sambuca. We had gone there once for his birthday and both enjoyed the atmosphere. But he loves going to new restaurants, so I was surprised he was taking me somewhere he’d already eaten before. Of course, there were reasons for this, as I would soon find out…

Seth had a vase of beautiful red and white roses waiting on our table for us when we arrived (he’s thoughtful like that) and we took our time with an appetizer and drinks. We enjoyed some live fusion jazz, enjoyed seeing each other after I’d been in Florida for a week (during which Seth had flown to Kansas City to talk to my parents about our future). Just before the main course was delivered to our table, Seth suddenly had to go to the bathroom. Of course, the food was delivered while he was gone, so I was concerned that it was getting cold. Then Seth came back saying he needed to take his camera up to the front because the manager had seen it and wouldn’t allow us to tape the band. Earlier in the evening, I had noticed Seth had a new camera in his case, this one a video camera. I had asked him all kinds of questions about it and we’d taken a couple of pictures and short videos. Now he said the manager had seen it out and was insisting Seth bring the camera to the host stand until we leave. This was when I knew something was going on. A minute later, I see Seth walk past our table, without stopping or looking at me, and before I knew what was happening, he was sitting down at the piano on stage and dedicating this song to me…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=42huBaD2XMQ

dancing…and living…in community

Those who know me well know that I recently (a couple of months before going to Mozambique) discovered a great love for partner dancing, along with a warm, welcoming and tightly-knit community of swing dancers here in Nashville.  I have been blessed to be getting to know and love this group even as I’ve fumbled and stumbled around the dance floor with my beginning lindy-hop skills.  As He tends to do, I saw the Lord use my new hobby to grow, challenge, and change me in many many unexpected ways.  On an individual level, I was challenged to see and know God in new ways through the nature of leading and following in a good dance.  Perhaps that’s not entirely unexpected.  But on a larger scale, I also began to see a community that functions in ways that I had rarely observed before.  I saw an assortment of people, brought together by the common ground of the dance floor, who genuinely loved and supported one another both in and outside of that one activity.  I saw men and women who were learning how to value and serve one another.  Most of all, though, I saw a group of people who had loads of fun together, and who with open arms invited anyone and everyone to join in. 

At a time when I needed community—and fun—more than ever before, I quickly became deeply grateful for all the ways this community enriched my life.  Let me say that I am intimately connected with my church family here, daily supported, challenged, and encouraged by my spiritual brothers, sisters, mothers and fathers.  In fact, I could not have made it through a crucible of a year without them.  But God simply began to broaden my perspective of what community is and how a community functions—and He did this outside of the church, which planted in me a hunger to see some of those dynamics develop within the Body of Christ.  Then, as I went to Mozambique, where I “lived in community” for 3 months, without time or space to myself, surrounded and supported and challenged by other Holy Given students and the broader, group-oriented culture, I found myself continuing to seek out and ask questions about this thing called community…and, it turned out, its connection to dance.

A close friend, talking about music, dance, and culture, said to me that in “its best and truest form a dance is a way to really explore, appreciate, and respond to a piece of music with someone else.  Being able to share and…experience the music with another person is an amazing process…And just like music, dancing can transcend language.”  There is something intangibly beautiful in our ability as human beings to create and appreciate music and then dance in response to it, and I think this is true not only in partner dancing but also in worship.  On my first Sunday in Pemba, as we were having church under the circus tent, the worship leader took a moment to explain to us visiting Westerners that in Africa, people dance in church.  And dance we did.  As the music changed to a more African beat and style, the sea of people began to pulse and move as one organism.  Eager dancers gathered in the front—as many as could possibly squeeze into the available space—to dance and lead together.  Some songs had certain repetitive patterns while others were led impromptu, the steps changing every few phrases.   Think Electric Slide but more fluid and spontaneous, with endless variety and opportunity for improvisation.

I immediately fell in love with the community aspect to the dancing there.  Everyone was joyful, jumping and moving as one—old and young, men and women, white and black.  Whereas Western-style worship to me reflects Western culture as it generally facilitates individual experiences with God and invites the individual to enter into the Presence of the Lord within the larger group, the dancing worship that so captured my heart in Africa brought the whole community together as we moved in unison, watching and learning from each other, laughing together, sweating together, praising God with our bodies.  It took something that is a natural expression of humanity and brought it into the Holy of Holies, where it became an intangibly beautiful, communal expression of the joy and redemption of the Lord.

“Sing to the Lord a new song

            his praise in the assembly of the saints.

Let Israel rejoice in their Maker;

            Let the people of Zion be glad in their King

Let them praise his name with dancing

            And make music to him with tambourine and harp.

For the Lord takes delight in his people;

            He crowns the humble with salvation.”

~Psalm 149:1-4