At church we've just begun a series about our relationship with God. Alongside services we're doing small groups and reading "Can You Hear Me". This first week began with a meditation on Psalm 139 and Jeremiah 23:23-24. We were to contemplate what it meant to experience the presence of God, to be aware of God's presence and how you know.
1-6 God, investigate my life; get all the facts firsthand.
I'm an open book to you;
even from a distance, you know what I'm thinking.
You know when I leave and when I get back;
I'm never out of your sight.
You know everything I'm going to say
before I start the first sentence.
I look behind me and you're there,
then up ahead and you're there, too—
your reassuring presence, coming and going.
This is too much, too wonderful—
I can't take it all in!
7-12 Is there anyplace I can go to avoid your Spirit?
to be out of your sight?
If I climb to the sky, you're there!
If I go underground, you're there!
If I flew on morning's wings
to the far western horizon,
You'd find me in a minute—
you're already there waiting!
Then I said to myself, "Oh, he even sees me in the dark!
At night I'm immersed in the light!"
It's a fact: darkness isn't dark to you;
night and day, darkness and light, they're all the same to you.
I've shared my feelings with some close friends in the past about how I experience God, but it's something I keep private for the most part for fear some won't understand. Our church is unique in the fact that it provides "open mic" a chance to be a part of service and share "your piece of the mosaic" and that was something I felt I should do because I KNOW how I feel about this. So, while I mull over things here on my side of the woods, I thought I would share with you what I shared with my church family last weekend.
When I’m listening to certain music, epic & pressing in some way, after a few moments a feeling creeps into me that I can’t quite name. My chest tightens, I feel the urge to close my eyes, and I need to move. I can picture the movements, the perfect movements for that piece of music.
Sometimes it’s just the urge to dance that comes over me, without any music at all, a particular move my body wants to make, always accompanied with the tightness in my chest & the urge to close my eyes. Watching performances with the specific type of music or dance has the same affect for me, often with tears.
For me, dancing has always been a very private and guarded thing. I either want to be alone, or somewhere safe, removed and expected, like rehearsal or a performance. Dancing I’m no longer myself, but this puppeted creature, moved about by the music and something that isn’t of this world. It’s how I was created to feel and express, to worship and be. Dance, ballet, is where I meet God, where I see Creation and the only place I can express myself to God and feel like I’m heard. It’s my prayer.
When I see a beautiful movement, feel my limbs stir or see a graceful dancer, to me that’s proof of God’s existence, these ethereal movements orchestrated by a higher power.
I thought about sharing a piece with you all tonight, but I don’t think I’m quite ready. So instead I’d like to share this short clip of Polina Seminova. It may not strike you as particularly epic or intense but I love it because she possesses amazing grace and skill. She moves with the music in her rehearsal clothes in an empty auditorium, feeling everything. I think she feels God here too.
Polina Semionova from Sebastián Acevedo on Vimeo.
