She made me uncomfortable.
She made me squirm.
I didn’t want to think about it, much less write about it.
I plugged my ears and sang, “Lalalalalala.”
L.L. quotes Sister Wendy Beckett, nun and art critic, as saying when she speaks about Piero Della Francesca’s painting, The Baptism of Christ:
“Jesus is totally folded in on Himself, aware only of the Father and the Father’s love, and its significance. This is what we long to be in prayer: one who is utterly given, stretching out beyond the immediate to the absolute reality of God.”
Similarly, she says, “The essential act of prayer is to stand unprotected before God. What will God do? He will take possession of us.”
“Becket, nun though she is,” L.L. writes, “speaks the language of sex. Utterly given. Stretching out. Unprotected.”
It makes perfect sense.
To think about prayer, communion and union with our Bridegroom, in the language of sex.
I don’t think God blushes.
I mean, He created everything, after all. And everything was good.
Except for man to be alone.
So He created woman.
And they became one.
He also compared our relationship with Him as that between a husband and a wife throughout Scripture.
And inspired some pretty graphic language and images in the Song of Songs.
Solomon’s poetry drips with the intimacy of love between him and his new bride. I want to shield my eyes and cover my ears and tiptoe away from them.
It’s so intimate.
I read it again this morning in the Message, and though I don’t believe you can force deep interpretations on it, I couldn’t help but think of God’s love for His beloved–you and me.
The syllables of your name murmur like a meadow brook.
No wonder everyone loves to say your name! (1:3)
But back to prayer.
Not so much those times when I list my offenses or lay out my requests.
But those times when I shut myself up with Him.
To spend time with Him.
To know Him.
I come alone. Just as I am. Unprotected. Unashamed. Vulnerable. And allow Him to undress me layer by layer. He does not flinch at the sight of my scars and wrinkles. But only gazes with eyes of love. And then stripped down and stretched out, I open myself to take Him as He is.
I surrender all.
We become one.
And I am whole and wholly beautiful.
And now I’ve made myself blush.
This post is a gift in response to Week 6 of God in the Yard. L.L. makes me think too much.