Come Dance on My Team

Weddings are usually held inside, with shoes on, DJ's, and sometimes even waiters.  But why not mix a little new in with the tradition?  Our friend who had hosted with us two summers ago got married this past weekend a few weekends ago* in what was quite possibly the most clashing of cultures I'd ever seen: a traditional Episcopalian wedding held in the middle of a festival/camp ground complete with BBQ.

The weather was beautiful and the bride was so happy.  Two genuinely people-people were starting their lives together with their dearest friends at hand and the beauty of God's creation wrapped around us all.

After the BBQ dinner a five-piece indie band hit the stage and we hit the dance floor.  You know me, that's exactly where you'd expect to find me.

A little girl about 8 that I'd never met before came up to me and grabbed my hand while we were waiting for the next song.  She looked up at me and said, "You're going to be on my team."  Now, that sat well with my competitive personality, thinking of dancing as a team sport, so I nodded and told her that I was glad we were on a team together.  I had seen this girl tear up the dance floor earlier, I figured she could help me with my moves.

As the music started she asked me, "Why are we holding hands?"

"I don't know," I replied, "that was you're idea."  But I don't think she heard my response as she reached up and grabbed my other hand and we started dancing away.  Behind her, Whitney was having a blast on the floor tom while Kelsey manned the egg shaker.  All around us were others hitting tambourines and dancing bare footed on the hay.  And me and that girl, we danced and danced and danced until we won.

The best part about the wedding was that we got to camp out afterwards under the stars- no, under the millions of fireflies that lined the river banks and lit up our temporary home in beautiful strobe.  In the city fireflies become a distant memory.  One time, we were volunteering at a homeless shelter and one of the men asked the group if they got to see fireflies at home.  The kids started to answer but the man got this sad look on his face.  He told us that he hadn't seen fireflies since he was a kid.


Whitney and I walked out to the edge of the river and enjoyed the fireflies and I remembered to appreciate this opportunity.  "How do you know when to leave something so beautiful?" Whitney asked.  I'm not sure I answered, because I didn't know.

When I got home, I scrubbed the dirt off my feet, checked behind my ears for ticks, and collapsed on the couch.

I mean, sprung up off the couch and went to work.

We've got our 3rd week of groups in fourth week of groups in*, and I'm a little nostalgic for the fun of hosting: meeting new people, getting accustomed to their quirks, serving hands-on in the areas of most need in Philly.  But that night we got back, I was glad I got to get a solid ten hours of sleep.

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*Yeah, a little late on the post here.