audacious

(What do you want from God?)

In a word? Answers.

I have faith, but I also have questions.

Can predestination and freewill coexist?

If God knows all our days than does what we do really matter?

How did two people populate the whole earth?

Why did God send the flood? Did humans get evil faster than he thought?

How did all the animals fit on the ark?

How do science faith and history interact? Can they?

It is all so otherworldly—so beyond my human capacity to understand.

I may never get all the answers. But I choose to believe.

an open letter to the gods and a reaffirmation of faith: To the Humans of the Metamorophoses

You hopeless people— trapped in the lifeless cycle of fear, failure, and transformation. You are playthings for the gods, subject to their every whim and command— every impulse and desire.

I am not you.

I have hope. I do not fear death or demons and in Him there is no failure. I am transformed— I was dead and now I live. I am not the object of his hate, but his grace—not the victim of his rape but the recipient of his great love. For he has conquered Chaos and my inheritance is 

the Golden Age that never ends.

an open letter to the gods and a reaffirmation of faith: To Minerva

You are the goddess of wisdom and of technical skill. You weave beautiful tapestries but they tell stories that have come to an end. You strike the earth and create life, but with the same hands you strike a girl and take life.

You are not my God. Like Arachne I do not fear you. But unlike her, my story will not be destroyed.

Because my God is the God of all wisdom and expertise. He weaves tapestries of grace—stories only he knows the end of. He creates life in song and with the same voice gives us forgiveness.

an open letter to the gods and a reaffirmation of faith: To Bacchus

{just some background to this series: this past semester, in my literature class, we studied Ovid's Metamorphoses, a poem--epic in length but not quite in structure--that follows the story of humanity and the Greek/Roman gods from creation to Augustan Rome. There are some very complex thematic elements that Ovid brings up including the nature of change and humanities' relationship with gods and authority, that have made me think critically about what I believe. Hence these drabbles.}

...

Your mother, raped by Jove. You, born out of your father’s thigh. Delivered by nymphs; raised by your aunt. God of everything countercultural and sexual—of disorder and chaos. God of the grape vine and wine that stupefies.

You are not my god. Like the daughters of Minyas I do not fear you. But unlike Orpheus, your bacchantes cannot silence my song.

Because my God has no beginning and no end. He restores order and instills beauty where chaos once reigned. He is the vine and he provides me with life—stupefies me with his grace.

This is my God.

Whole.

It’s spring in New England and there are potholes. Like, oh-my-gosh-I’m-going-to-loose-my-car-in-one-of-these potholes. The solution for this is to simply patch them. So, dark, serrated lumps— attempted patches— scar the streets. But, this isn’t long term healing. When winter comes again their seams will form new holes.

Relationships are like this. Sometimes in winter, hearts break. But don’t reach for a patch. Because patches sit like scars on your soul— dark and rough. And where their seams meet your skin they will make new holes.

So forgive, my friend. Rip up the road and pave anew. It will make you whole.

Jagged Edges {there's fear}

Don’t get too close. I might hurt you.

It’s not purposeful. Trust me.

I don’t want to cause you pain.

It’s just that I’m a little broken in all the wrong places.

You know, against the grain. I’m ragged— they haven’t been neat tears.

More than scars—they’re physical demarcations. Deformations.

And if you get too close my serrated edges. They will cut you.

In all the wrong places. They will more than leave scars.

You’ll be deformed. Like me.

I don’t want that for you.

Don’t get too close. I might hurt you.

{it’s ok. I can heal you}

oh Father, forgive me! {in which i share a piece of my heart}

Let’s just say I don’t agree with some (ok, most) of my coworker’s lifestyles.

And (if I’m honest) I’ve found myself judging. I’ve found myself shrinking away from them—avoiding contact because it’s uncomfortable (but God is the God of discomfort). Just this afternoon as I was about to go on break I noticed that one of my coworkers (the one I have had the most trouble interacting with) was also on break. So what did I do? I purposely sat where he wouldn’t see me so that I wouldn’t risk the awkwardness of maybe having to eat with him.

But as I thought about what I had just done I realized that it was not at all what Jesus would have done. In fact, it was the very opposite. Jesus himself provided food for the tax collectors and sinners. I had the opportunity to share a meal with someone Jesus died for, someone who needs a savior just as much as I do. I had the opportunity to build a relationship in the way Jesus so often did, to break bread with this sinner so in need of a savior. But instead I turned my face away in scorn.

cynical hypocrits

“Just be yourself—everybody else is already taken!”

“Be your own kind of beautiful.”

“Being yourself is about the prettiest thing a person can be.”

“Just be yourself—it’s enough.”

Blah. blah. Blah.

“You should join that club it will look good on your résumé.”

“You should really do another class next semester because colleges look for a tougher senior year.”

“You have to pass this test in order to do the next field study.”
“It’s ok, employers really only look at the grades for the classes in your major.”

So be yourself as long as yourself is good enough.

response

Hi! My name is Kelly to! I am six! How are you? I am good. I love flamingos! They are my favorite animal. Is your flamingo pretty? I like plaid! Could he keep the monsters out of my closet? Does your flamingo have a name? I would love to have your flamingo if you can not have him. Where do you live? Could he fly to my house? I can not wait to meet him! Can you send me a picture? My address is on the envelope! I am glad you love flamingos! I hope you like college!

Sincerely,

Kelly

imaginary friend

WANTED

Kind owner for a pleasing plaid flamingo.

This flamingo is well traveled and well behaved.

He enjoys trying to camouflage as one of your shirts in your closet and riding on the back of your bike. He also enjoys a good game of go-fish.

The only reason I must find a new home for this pleasant flamingo is because I’m moving away to college. Growing up. But I am hoping to find another child who could love him as much as I have. If you are interested please write a note to:

Kelly Mardy

P.O. Box 2598

Huffington, IL

somewhere in the grey

Even without colors, they were able to make us laugh and cry, these performers hidden in the grey scale. Even with all the power that color has these comedians and singers, news reporters and characters, conveyed their emotions and the emotions of others. Even though it was visually less intoxicating they still managed to captivate their audiences. And maybe the effect was even more acute without the added distractions of HD and surround sound. Maybe their personalities and stories were all the more vivid because of the simplicity.

Regardless, somewhere in the grey a whole lot of color was hiding.

on love, emotion, and commitment (a double drabble)

LOVE: A strong affection (a moderate feeling or emotion) for another arising out of kinship or personal ties. (Merriam-Webster Dictionary)

Would we demote love to this simple definition?

Love is not merely a strong affection; neither does it arise out of kinship or personal ties. For love is death to self (no moderate feeling would promote this) and it reaches far beyond those we will ever meet.

Only in the 4^th definition given by Merriam-Webster do we find something closer to a complete meaning.

LOVE: “an unselfish, loyal benevolent (marked by or disposed to doing good) concern for the good of another.”

This, more or less, is love; concern for another despite personal desires, despite fickle feelings. It is everlasting; it is binding.

But again, it is so much more. It is an emotion that feels fiery passion, but is not driven by this unpredictable force; rather it is driven by the desire for good in another, a desire for hope, and peace for another even at the cost of your own happiness. But even more importantly it is the action upon this drive.

“Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends.” John 15:13 (ESV)

regarding you {forever and always}

On spring twilights I’d like to go dancing in a parking lot.

On summer evenings I’d like to sit and watch the sunset and hold your hand.

On autumn afternoons I’d like to jump in some crunchy leaf piles with you.

On winter mornings I’d like to cuddle next to you and sip a not-too-hot mocha.

And when the storms come and when the darkness falls I’ll be forever truly yours.

And when the sun shines and when the mist rises, I’ll stand here next to you.

Because in every season, on every day I’d like to be with you.

photography

There is such satisfaction in capturing light on mirrors, turning something three-dimensional into electronic pixels. It’s tactile—cool LCD screen pressed against my nose, smooth shutter release button, hands wrapped around the textured plastic grips; it’s auditory—pressure against the shutter relaying a crisp, two-toned snap; it’s olfactory—inhale, exhale, pause, click; it’s visual—looking through the viewfinder, capturing moment for memory; it’s even gustatory—saliva and tongue pressed against the roof of my mouth, teeth clenched, as I pause everything to preserve this moment. It’s a complete activity, this thing called photography, engaging all senses, body, mind, and soul.

a fan letter

Dear Harold,

I watched your show the last night and I just wanted to add my well wishes to everyone else’s and say a big HAPPY BIRTHDAY! It is so awesome that you are now the oldest living avocado. I mean wow! A whole century is a long time for anyone to live—let alone an avocado. I love hearing your life stories—you’ve lived through so much. I especially like the ones about your wife and how you survived the wars. So inspiring!! I hope someday I can have as many amazing stories as you!

Sincerely,

An Adoring Fan

power outage

Everyone was going about their typical closing business. I was counting my drawer. The other cashier was sweeping. The baker was baking. When BAM! the lights went out. It’s never been so quiet. The whole plaza—parking lot, and every others store: black. The generators kicked in very quickly, but still, there is something about loosing power that makes you feel like a kid again. That made Katie (jokingly of course) call out for her daddy, that made Justin run out side, that made the only four customers left giggle like little girls, and Sam dance in the parking lot.

A Sometimes Fool (for last Saturday)

She was collected, organized, and mostly perfect. Her socks were always matched and her hair always straight. She never talked with her mouth full and nothing ever surprised her. She had it all together; people marveled at her neatness and how organized her life was.

But sometimes, in the every-once-in-a-while, the occasional momentary lapse of reason that sporadically overtook her she would let everything go--speak before spoken to, disregard her turning signal, dance like nobody is watching, jump off cliffs. And it was during those times that she was happiest. She was a sometimes fool.

The traveling log {part 2}

Day 14: Two weeks into this trip. Realized this morning that my boat was still tethered to the dock. That explains a lot.

Day 15: Finally making some progress here. I’m about half way to the middle of the lake. The wind is helping a lot.

Day 16: made it! The view from out here is amazing. So glad to be safe from the people who burn.

Day 17: Enjoying freedom.

Day 18: Having some trouble sleeping. The weather has been decent, rain when I’m thirsty, sun when I’m cold.

Day 19: Feeling more rested today. I’ve never been happier.

the traveling log {part 1} (for 5.22.13)

Day 1: Just me, the lake and my boat. But I can’t steer because I don’t have hands. Very hot. This should be interesting.

Day 2: I don’t think I’ve gone very far, can still see the bottom of the lake so it can’t be very deep. Some clouds today which made it a little cooler.

Day 3: It’s raining. I’m afraid my boat might completely fill up with water. But at least I have something to drink.

Day 4: Watched the sunrise this morning. Very beautiful. Also got to see some fish jumping. Maybe I’ll do some fishing today.

Peter (for 5.21.13)

Jesus rebuked me today. It was just that he was talking about how he was going to die and be murdered and he can’t die! He told me I didn’t understand, that I was setting my mind on things of man. But doesn’t he understand? I left everything. There is no going back. If he dies that’s the end for all the others and me. He can’t leave us now. Doesn’t he see all he’s doing? All the good that is happening through him?

“Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.”

(1 Corinthians 13:12)