Wouldn't you like to marry this guy?

I used to think that I’d like to marry a man who sings and dances. Now I know it’s a requirement. What happened, you wonder? I moved away from home and realized that not everyone in the world believes that life is a musical. Most families don’t break into spontaneous song and dance routines in the kitchen. (I know, you’re shocked, right?)

The day I walked into my parents’ house over Thanksgiving, I was already singing. It’s a musical house. Something about the atmosphere makes me burst into song, and something about those laminate floors sets a girl’s feet to dancing. I can’t imagine the home I one day make for myself as being any different. There’s just something magical about the way five voices can join into a chorus of “Whiskey in the Jar” as my parents laugh along.

My future husband must sing and dance. This is a non-negotiable. You may be laughing and thinking I’m crazy, but I’m perfectly serious. Although I already wrote a post about trashing my list of things I’m looking for in a husband, there are still a few things that are permanently ingrained in my mind. I simply choose not to dwell on all of them at the same time, or even one of them for very long. Just because I want to marry a man who sings and dances doesn’t mean I’m taking auditions.

I hope you don’t feel like I’m sending conflicting messages by saying, “Trash the list, but know what you want.” If the list works for you, keep it. As long as the things you’ve set in your mind aren’t distracting you from life here and now, keep thinking about them. Just don’t ever compromise. Know the things that are non-negotiable, but don’t think about it all the time. Here’s my encouragement of the day:

Don’t sacrifice the big dreams, because you may have to sacrifice the small; and one day when you look back, you will have sacrificed them all.

The man doesn’t have to have dark hair and the perfect smile, but if singing and dancing is a requirement, don’t even look at that guy who’s barely squeaking through Amazing Grace. It won’t end well.

Now if you’ll excuse me, my feet are itching to dance…