I Sing You to Me

So I'm watching Australia like a sap, and at this moment, little half-Aborigine boy says to Nicole Kidman/aka Mrs. Boss, "I sing you to me, Missus Boss, like da first day you came." Then she turns around and Hugh Jackman's beautiful beefy body is standing on the pier and ohhhhhhhhh my goodness I'm such a girl.
So the focus here is "I sing you to me."
I think that is absolutely beautiful. Not really for the whole mating call thing, either, or like the pengiuns on Happy Feet who do a special song and dance to gain couple status. It's cute, but it's a bit unrealistic for me. (As if Australia isn't, but hey-- Baz Luhrmann's movies are awesome.)
I've been thinking some about music. Songs, instruments.
Sometimes, I can't pray. To be honest, I suck at praying. You know, praying is essential in Christian world, and I understand it. But to me, praying is a form of worshipping, and although I believe I should pray more--I should be more afraid of what can happen if I don't pray--I worship heartier in other ways, and music is a way.
Sometimes, I want to sing God to me. I used to be so skeptical of "Modern" Christians and their Contemporary excuse for godly music. My opinions have changed a bit.
I used to skepticize those Christians who would blindly wave their hands in the air, thinking it was a pathetic attempt at doing something. I didn't understand that raising hands was an expression, a worship experience.
I was a bit judgmental back then, and maybe I still am to an extent.
But when I can feel the freedom to do that--to raise my hands, for example--I feel like I am inviting not only God, but others to join in this release. It feels nice and liberating and spiritual. I like the fact that God is spiritual, because I don't have to break him down like a complicated math formula, I don't have to structure him like the sentences I struggle to diagram. I can let him have a free form, let him float and maneuver in whatever path he chooses. To me, God's spirit licks about my heart, like the glowing ember chunks in a fire, the ones that softly pulse with golden shades, ones that sit calmly among rising and falling flames. God is that spurting flame--the one that grows and fades.
I like that--it feels like our relationship to God is inconsistent, but that's just an excuse to back away.
But I like the fact that God seems inconsistent. I know we are the inconsistent ones, but God allows our humanness to journy ourselves through the craziness of life. God wants us to grow, doesn't he? He wants us to realize what he is, what forms he takes, what land he occupies, what people he blesses and wants to bless.
In my classes, God isn't highly spoken of. There are no God fan clubs in liberal arts world, but I take the experience as one of worth. Because these people are still people, and they are good. And if I breathe Jesus down their throat, they'll only cough it back up out of bitter regurgitation. These people have experienced Christians, and sometimes we as God's followers need to be silent.
Maybe sometimes we need to just sing. You never who know might come.