Saturday, July 18, 2015

My dearest God,

We wandered through the art gallery, a simple exercise, yet, not so much as we wandered with expectancy to find the sacred movement in the art work.  Not expecting much, my own weakness, I stepped inside the gallery to view Maine:  As They See It.  I moved from painting to painting.  Oh, my at first the light drew me, then the treasures, the gems hidden from the eye until a closer look caused me to want to enter the scene, the landscape, the water, the outer cove, and then with great wonderment my eye caught those who gathered to view the exhibit.  The joy, the expectancy, the appreciation, your hand, your spirit blew into each room, each person gathered.  I smiled and I smiled.  Surprised, perplexed, overjoyed, I felt your spirit wind upon my face, my skirt, I could almost feel your breath blowing causing even my clothing to move with the wind, much like a little girl with a brand new dress, moving from side to side, listening for the swish, swish of her big, beautiful dress.

Each painting directed me to you in subtle ways, gentle, provoking.  I felt I was one with the painting, one with the gallery, one with the people, one with your spirit.  I felt the movement; I moved too.  How could such an exercise give pause and cause to dance with your spirit?

I was captured by the beauty of your spirit, the glory of color and texture on the canvas, emanating in the rooms, knowing full well the artists all painted with the same spirit power, sense of wonderment, and passion.  I got caught up into you.

Holy God,
mover of spirit,
sound and life,
thank you
for the dance,
the beauty,
the exquisite moment
of illumination
and joy.

Love always, Andrea