Monday, February 28, 2011

Muddy Maddy

I always chuckle inside myself when I tell people my name is Maddy and often receive the response, "Nice to meet you Muddy." I like mud. Sometimes I don't correct them. I like to pretend my name is Muddy.

Mud is a fickle thing. 

Or maybe, as a human, my relationship with mud is a fickle thing.
Society accepts playing in mud as an acceptable act for infants and toddies.
Somehow after that comes an awkward space of judgment for this act of enjoying the wet earth.
(( I'm not talking hard core mud activities like biking or mud runs--new month's resolution p.s.--I have a deep respect for such things))
And then all of a sudden the act of slathering muddy muck on your face is considered a luxury in old(ish) age.


Last Friday, a few pals and I (Meesh and Georgey) went on a little mud romp of our own...
running bare foot through the empty campus was priceless...
the deep puddles greeted my happy toes with what I can only describe as "puddle-joy"

When we reached the ultimate mudslides of the lower campus fields, I felt like a deeply dehydrated dog, overwhelmed by the sudden excess of the thing I had for so long been thirsting for. 
This was manifested in the excessive giddiness with which I and my dear friends slid and screamed and ran and wrestled and danced and sang and was a grand feat. 

 Genesis 2:7
"Then the Lord God formed the man of dust from the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living creature."

Monday, February 7, 2011

Alone on a Bicycle for Two

She and Him have a song called Black Hole.
The best line of the lick is "I'm alone on a bicycle for two."
This song has been stuck in my head for a long time.
I have wrestled with these lyrics over and over again, piecing together and tearing apart what these words mean to me. They now mean a great lotty lot.

Word Picture
((Tandem biking is in my future. Hopefully near. Also this analogy is probably not very theologically sound. Sadly, though my dad is a pastor, his theology and wisdom did not pass to me.))

I feel like my relationship with the Lord is like a tandem bike. 
He's in the front and I am in the back.
He is there to guide me and he could drive the whole show without me.
He chooses to let me come along for the joy of the journey.
He has a purpose for my being there with him, things to reveal to me along the way as well.
Nice deal, eh?
Sometimes my black little heart tries to steal the show.
I try to steer the whole thing from the back, acting like he doesn't exist. 
I idolize myself, as well as my desires, as greater than God.

I'm alone.
On a bicycle.
That was made for TWO.

I Corinthians 10:14 "Therefore, my beloved, flee from idolatry."