Dance...the word sparkles in my mind and twinkles in my eyes...Dance.
Some words are visual in their very sound and dance is one of them. My idea of dance is a rhythmic movement in response to inner or outer music. A release of emotion that requires no words...that is a glorious truth that makes me smile for I am by my own admission a lover of words. There used to be a running joke in my family that I made up words...and sometimes I did; but it was never in a premeditated way, rather it was a on the spot response to an idea or experience.
All of us have non-verbal ways of expressing ourselves...I've had a babyhood tick of ringing my hands...one I suppressed as I got older.
I suppose you realize by now that I am intrigued by dancing...and as those who know me know...intrigued is all it is...I'm so for real! I've never taken a dance class and am not exactly the most graceful creature around. But part of my fascination with dancing is the heated response one get to the topic. It is definitely not a causal conversation starter.
Maybe that is why I've chosen it as a vehicle to share something. Most of my life I've looked at the world as the devil's kingdom. But while its tragically true that this unique planet is the devil's playground. He hijacked it only after my Creator Lord designed and set it in motion. The enemy is regulated to disarray, distorting and destruction. To extinction or extremes is his motto. And though he has limited power to miraculously glitter and glamour his death traps, they are all an appeal to instincts that beckon to the glory of God's original purpose. Dancing, in my dictionary, is no exception.
I was created to be a beautiful, graceful, harmonious, intimate creature...sin leaves me ugly, awkward, at odds, and relationally broken. No wonder I have a pull to an art that graces me with a promise of the first! That said I will agree that dancing has been for the most part successfully hijacked. It is now commonly viewed, at least within conservative Christian communities, as a practice of the flesh and a sinful pass time. One preacher I recently heard commented on the whole topic with a dismissive "it is an advertisement of your sexual prowess". If dancing is an expression of emotion--then it can be good or bad; there can be a time for it to be and time for it to be not. Interestingly enough that is exactly what Ecclesiastes 3:4 seems to be saying. There is "A time to mourn and a time to dance."
I've come to at least one conclusion while writing this. The devil doesn't deserve the credit of creating dancing. It is not his tool exclusively. Now the ramifications of what I'm saying I've still to flesh out...does that annoy you? I am being honest though...
In order to set some of your hearts at ease, I will say that because of some of my other conviction you won't find me studiously dancing away under the hand of a master dancer...though that fantasy has crossed my mind...but neither will you hear me condemning the whole concept as an art bred in the devil's workshop.
I am becoming more and more all about reclaiming the Lord's design. The devil is a liar and I don't want to assist his propaganda campaign. If we approached things in this light don't you think we'd do a better job of presenting truth as the beautiful thing that it is?
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Sunday, January 4, 2009
Roomate-Bride
It was a wedding I had been looking forward to. My Weimar College roomate was getting married! It was to be a December wedding and I was sure, it was to be a study in contrasts.
My roomate-bride is Korean, her groom Romanian, the Church chosen Japanese-American and the bridal party an assortment of Asian-European-Hispanic-African-American young folk! I expected it to be a unique and special celebration not only because of these facts but because having co-habited with the bride, I knew it would be a reflection of her: delightfully simple, spiritually deep and muiscally oriented. I was not disappointed.
The music enchanted the charming sanctuary from the echos of a small orchestra, the pathos of a latin sole and perfect-mood setting pieces. A reverant, spiritual atmosphere undergirded the entire ceremony apart even from the beautifully crafted wedding sermon, the first I will remember I think. And simpicity was the code of mode as only black and white outfits can be, completed only with a Bible and a trinity of red-roses on evergreens. The groom was sporting an hour-old-haircut at the hands of the Canadian bridesmaid and looking for all the world like he'd managed somehow to shallow the golden egg! The bride's jet-black hair framed her beautiful fresh-faced glow, with only a hint of lip-gloss setting off her natural pearl pink cheeks. Having a blond groom that towers over you, made the bride appear only more adorable!
The mood before the ceremony was seriously light: if that is possible. I mean to say that the groomesmen were a serious lot, only now and then breaking into a sheepish grin at one or two of the ridiculous comments springing in gales from the bridesmaide's side. A light mood was making me join in with the best of the girls. But behind my teasing and jesting words, a slightly disconcerting unease was taking hold of me but for all the world I could not put my finger on what was wrong.
From my vantage point in the ceremony...and let me say that this is the first wedding in six that I've been a part of that had the bridal party sit down for the ceremony-great idea if you ask me! I searched the bridal scene and crowded church for some sort of an indication of what was causing my disrest. Many of my Weimar-College-days friends were there, some as dear as always and others reminders or co-partners of mischievousness glory! I scanned the bridal party and internally grinned at the demure faces the girls now sported, one or two appeard quite taken with the scene, dreaming of their own day perhaps. The married girl was the only one still having a hard time being serious, she was always the leader in fun no matter what the occassion. One bridesmaid for sure was having an internal struggle over her outfit, anxiously reviewing all its flaws. The boys, I mean, groomsmen were perfectly composed.
My eyes lingered on the bride. And my feelings intensified...ahhh...at last. The source of my disconcerted feelings had been discovered. In her flowing vail and soft glow I searched for that girl: my roomate. The connection between that girl and me was missing. That was what was disconcerting. It had been over four years since we shared extended time together but my spirit longed for a spark of connection, the kind that exists apart from words or gestures. I longed for that spark of the girl that had made me laugh like no other, who loved music and hated kimchi. the girl who disliked beds and gave strong backrubs. The girl that had joined me in a blood-coveant of swearing off boys after a climatic discussion on boy-distractions and the virtues of focused service for God...ahhh the passionate reasoning, earnestness and youthful...misguided ideals?!
The composed bride setting before me seemed far removed from that girl. Then it happend, the one moment that changed everything.
She laughed.
No, you don't understand. She laughed her no-holding-back-Rina-laugh! I don't even remember what she laughed at, some witty remark from the preacher I suppose, but who cares...she had laughed. And in that one laugh I heard, I saw, I connected with the bride-who-had-been-the girl-that-had-made-me-laugh many times before.
I settled back in my chair and watched the smiling audience, heard the earnest speaker and smiled at the bride...an inner peace flowed through me. Brides are still girls the were roomates who laughed and cried and made strange covenants...brides are the best!
My roomate-bride is Korean, her groom Romanian, the Church chosen Japanese-American and the bridal party an assortment of Asian-European-Hispanic-African-American young folk! I expected it to be a unique and special celebration not only because of these facts but because having co-habited with the bride, I knew it would be a reflection of her: delightfully simple, spiritually deep and muiscally oriented. I was not disappointed.
The music enchanted the charming sanctuary from the echos of a small orchestra, the pathos of a latin sole and perfect-mood setting pieces. A reverant, spiritual atmosphere undergirded the entire ceremony apart even from the beautifully crafted wedding sermon, the first I will remember I think. And simpicity was the code of mode as only black and white outfits can be, completed only with a Bible and a trinity of red-roses on evergreens. The groom was sporting an hour-old-haircut at the hands of the Canadian bridesmaid and looking for all the world like he'd managed somehow to shallow the golden egg! The bride's jet-black hair framed her beautiful fresh-faced glow, with only a hint of lip-gloss setting off her natural pearl pink cheeks. Having a blond groom that towers over you, made the bride appear only more adorable!
The mood before the ceremony was seriously light: if that is possible. I mean to say that the groomesmen were a serious lot, only now and then breaking into a sheepish grin at one or two of the ridiculous comments springing in gales from the bridesmaide's side. A light mood was making me join in with the best of the girls. But behind my teasing and jesting words, a slightly disconcerting unease was taking hold of me but for all the world I could not put my finger on what was wrong.
From my vantage point in the ceremony...and let me say that this is the first wedding in six that I've been a part of that had the bridal party sit down for the ceremony-great idea if you ask me! I searched the bridal scene and crowded church for some sort of an indication of what was causing my disrest. Many of my Weimar-College-days friends were there, some as dear as always and others reminders or co-partners of mischievousness glory! I scanned the bridal party and internally grinned at the demure faces the girls now sported, one or two appeard quite taken with the scene, dreaming of their own day perhaps. The married girl was the only one still having a hard time being serious, she was always the leader in fun no matter what the occassion. One bridesmaid for sure was having an internal struggle over her outfit, anxiously reviewing all its flaws. The boys, I mean, groomsmen were perfectly composed.
My eyes lingered on the bride. And my feelings intensified...ahhh...at last. The source of my disconcerted feelings had been discovered. In her flowing vail and soft glow I searched for that girl: my roomate. The connection between that girl and me was missing. That was what was disconcerting. It had been over four years since we shared extended time together but my spirit longed for a spark of connection, the kind that exists apart from words or gestures. I longed for that spark of the girl that had made me laugh like no other, who loved music and hated kimchi. the girl who disliked beds and gave strong backrubs. The girl that had joined me in a blood-coveant of swearing off boys after a climatic discussion on boy-distractions and the virtues of focused service for God...ahhh the passionate reasoning, earnestness and youthful...misguided ideals?!
The composed bride setting before me seemed far removed from that girl. Then it happend, the one moment that changed everything.
She laughed.
No, you don't understand. She laughed her no-holding-back-Rina-laugh! I don't even remember what she laughed at, some witty remark from the preacher I suppose, but who cares...she had laughed. And in that one laugh I heard, I saw, I connected with the bride-who-had-been-the girl-that-had-made-me-laugh many times before.
I settled back in my chair and watched the smiling audience, heard the earnest speaker and smiled at the bride...an inner peace flowed through me. Brides are still girls the were roomates who laughed and cried and made strange covenants...brides are the best!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
