The Song on the Inside of God

At the creation, as you stood alone on the earth, right before you began shaping man from clay...what were you thinking? Was all of creation rejoicing in the beauty of its Creator?
Were you basking in the glow of new born creation, untainted by years of pain and futility? Did you miss a certain voice that was still inside of you? The voice that you were about to give breath to, about to give sound to? Did you long for that voice? Was the praise empty without it?
As you put your hands in the clay was there this sound inside of you directing your hands? The sound of man still on the inside of God. The sound of praise from yet unshaped lips, longing for form in which to fill with the resonance of this sound, this song on the inside of God. The sinuses as they are formed, the lungs, the caverns on the inside that would buzz with the vibrations of this song on the inside of God. The song of praise that you withheld only to bestow on the crown of your creation. The song on the inside of God. Lips, tongue, throat, larynx, were you excited as you shaped these things? The labyrinth of the inner ear, the marvel of intricate design, a millenia of thought, the wonder of love perfected in a form to wonderful to have been comprehended by any other creation!
The form of Jesus, was it hidden inside of you until that moment? Had the angels ever beheld you like this before? Were they all freaking out, the living creatures burning with wonder at this new facet of you...God as Lover? The God who had only need to speak and his imaginings appear from thin air. This portion, this piece, the pinnacle.
You get down in the dirt, get dirt under your fingernails. You breath in the smell, knowing its all about to change. Was there any moment of hesitation, looking down history to see what man would do to hurt you? Was there a moment? There couldn't have been. You would have seen it all before you even started creating. You had to know the risk you were taking by putting so much of yourself into one being, and then giving him a will to choose you...or not.
You come to this clay, shaped like the visible part of you, you come to him and the music swells, the leaves rustle in the wind, the birds all flying around to find better seats on nearby branches. The music grows and grows, these romantic strains, strains of yearning, strains of longing flutter, soar, through the air...and you kneel down. The music stops, it breaks apart, silence, a pause...a breath in, a breath out...a breath in, a breath out. Adam's eyes flick open, the music breaks in again. It's a sound no ones ever heard come from God. A song of Man, a song for Man, the song of a Father, the song of a Lover, Man responds. This song that has been in God from eternity past has now passed into him, a transformation from eternal being into clay, creates a body for this sound, a cathedral that has two legs and can see. Praise is perfected in that moment.

You let go of a part of yourself, trusting that Man will give it back. But it's a risk because he may not. Your heart open and vulnerable, you're risking like a lover, you're open like a father, you are like none have ever seen you before.

And its not just some short term relationship you're after. You designed longevity into this Man. You allowed for a long discovering of the wonder with which he was created to spur worship, cause you love the sound of the song that was in God. Because you long for that sound to come back to you. It's our highest gift, the aim of wonder, the song that started as you laid your hands in the clay. The song you want back for yourself, the song that you will get back. How high a gift to give this sound that belongs to you back to you. The song that started with the dream inside of you...The song on the inside of God.

I am the song on the inside of God.

"Let me see your form"

I felt the pull to sing today. It's been a while. I went to the Boiler Room, locked myself into the first floor and started playing my couple of chords on the sticky keyed keyboard. I was surprised to find myself drawn to the Song of Songs. Even more surprising was the pull to chapter two. I can't remember the last time I sung from chapter two. I have been unconsciously avoiding the Song. I am not sure why, but I sort of feel like the intensity of singing from it has been too much for me for the last few years.

I started singing, “Behold he comes...leaping on the mountains, skipping on the hills...” C to F, C to F...

Moving into, “Winter is over, the spring time is come, the season of singing is here...Rise up, my love, come away...flowers are a-blooming on the mountains, in the crags of cliffs...” A to G to F, A to G to F...

Then: “Oh my dove, in the clefts of the rock, in the secret places...Oh my love, in the wounds of the lamb, in your closets, let me see your form, let me hear your voice...”

On the inside, in the caves of my heart there was all sorts of things coming up. I felt Jesus' desire for me, and it made me mad because I felt like he said, “Anna, what if I was a black man and desired to see your “form”, and said it was lovely?”

I have long struggled with despising black men for thinking that I am beautiful without knowing me. There is something inside of me that thinks there is something wrong with these men. I have blown them off for the most part because the vast majority of “responses” to my “form” have been lingering looks or cat calls from strangers. Then there are the black men that I actually know. The ones that would not dream of disrespecting me, the ones that love and honor me. They give me the same look sometimes. They use more veiled compliments as to not be vulgar, but still, is there something wrong with them too? Or is it me?

My response to this was, “I didn't know I was so mistaken.” I felt completely convicted. I felt like Jesus was telling me that I was spitting in face of the Unique part of His nature that is embedded in every people group/culture. Something that I believe whole heartedly, though I never dreamed that it would translate into something like this.

I honestly don't know how to respond to this. I asked for the gift of repentance, and feel like this is a deep cavern that needs some serious overhauling so it may take time, but I am willing.