I sitting here watching The History Chanel’s Star Wars: The Legacy Revealed and I realized just how much of a geek I really am. I’m quoting lines from the first three Star Wars movies, all the lines, with the same cadence, pauses and intensity as the actors… without even thinking about it.
Think it’s obvious I’ve only watched them, oh, about a bazillion times?
Who here among us has not been broken
Who here among us is without guilt or pain
So oft’ abandoned by our transgressions
If such a thing as grace exists
Then grace was made for lives like this
Tonight I went to see a movie starring one of my favorite actresses. Judi Dench has been somewhat a hero of mine for a long time. I don’t know exactly what it is — her inner strength, perhaps, that shines through every performance, her wit, her talent, her striking beauty, especially at an age when many women just start falling apart, her class, her power to captivate no matter how small a role she’s playing… Perhaps all of it. I want to be like her when I grow up. Or at least look like her.
Notes on a Scandal gave me a different Judi Dench than I expected; one that disturbed me throughout the film, then left me speechless and in awe of her talent afterward. She plays a discomfiting, complex woman with exquisite deft and with incredibly unflinching humanity. Her character, Barbara, could easily have become a caricature of a crazy spinster, but never does. She is both frightening and at the same time intriguing. Just about the time you think you’ve got her figured out as the crusty spinster with a soft maternal inside, her behavior turns bizarre and alarming. Just as quickly, she returns to her matronly role, just long enough for you to believe her deviant behavior was an aberration, then she does it again. I’m telling you, disturbing.
I have a struggle with movies like this these days. Being a single-never-married woman in my early 40s, I walk a precarious path between becoming, if only in my own eyes, a truly pitiable old spinster, complete with cat and orthopedic shoes, or grabbing the first man that comes along and settling for a loveless, joyless marriage just so I won’t be alone. It takes a lot of strength, courage and tenacity to stay on the path I’m on and wait for God’s best. Any film delving into the life of a "spinster" delves into my own fears as well. Barbara’s struggle was with acute loneliness; the agony of a life without true intimacy and human touch. Its a struggle I am all too familiar with. I’ve felt that agony many times in my life. It drives many people to seek intimacy through sexual encounters, where ever and how ever they may come. Thank God it’s driven me into the arms of God, the arms of Jesus, my Beloved. He has met my deepest needs for intimacy, far better than any man could.
There are no strangers
There are no outcasts
There are no orphans of God
So many fallen, but hallelujah
There are no orphans of God
As I drove home tonight, I wept as I allowed my own fears of becoming a spinster to stand up and say their peace. I’ve spent most of my life shoving my feelings down, ignoring them, denying them or telling them to shut up rather than acknowledging them and letting them have a moment. I’m slowly learning that the only way to deal with my fear is to face it, let it speak, and then to look at Jesus and say, "now what? Help me." So that’s what I did tonight.
This song, Orphans of God, by Avalon began playing. I got their CD, Stand, yesterday and it’s been playing in my car ever since. I wish I could play the song for you here, or at least provide a link to an mp3 file you could listen to. It’s a powerful song I first heard at the Women of Faith conference in Charlotte last year. It’s especially meaningful to me because ever since my parents died in 2003 I’ve felt like an orphan. All my siblings are married with kids of their own. The only real family of my own I had were my parents. With them gone, I feel — well, family-less. I realize that in reality I’m not, but have you ever noticed that feelings just don’t give a damn about reality? They are what they are and they make no apologies and no concessions for anyone or anything, especially reality.
Come ye unwanted and find affection
Come all ye weary, come and lay down your head
Come ye unworthy, you are my brother
If such a thing as grace exists
Then grace was made for lives like this
As I’m listening to this song and pouring out my fears to God, He just wraps His arms around me and listens. Slowly, quietly I start realizing that the life I saw played out for the last two hours was a life without God. It was a life of desperation driven by our insatiable need for community and intimacy; a life that never responded to the daily brush of God’s Spirit upon her own. It’s what happens to each of us when we choose to ignore those soft, persistent caresses, the whispered "I love you"s. Eventually we stop noticing His touch, we stop hearing His whispers. It just becomes part of the background noise of our lives, while our pain and our lonliness takes centerstage.
Even those of us who are connected to God, who are followers of Jesus, devoted, faithful, even strong –even we can get so wrapped up in our pain that we don’t notice His touch and His whispers. I’ve been in such pain and depression, in such darkness in my own soul that I could not see my hand in front of my face. Sometimes my pain, and often times my fear, was so strong that God’s presence became just background noise. I could barely distinguish His caresses on my spirit from the searing pain in my heart. And His whispers were lost in the roar of agony. I remember one time, Easter Sunday 2004, finally wailing and screaming to Him, "NOW is the time! You said You would rescue me at the appointed time. Well, that time is NOW. I need you NOW. Come NOW. I cannot do this anymore. Come NOW!"
There are no strangers
There are no outcasts
There are no orphans of God
So many fallen, but hallelujah
There are no orphans of God
He came. With smoke in His nostrils and consuming fire shooting from His mouth, He came and rescued me. I’m not kidding. I saw it as clearly as if with my physical eyes. I saw it. He came roaring out of the heavens and scattered and routed my enemies — those accusing voices, the screaming fears, the blistering agony of abuse and loss — just as Psalm 18 describes. Then He knelt beside me and said, "I’m hear, baby. I’m here. We’ll get through this day." I was raw with pain, but I wasn’t alone. I never was. And I never will be. He walked with me through that day, and every day since. Including tonight, as my fear got in my face and I let it say its peace.
I think of some of the people I know who are in such pain. I think of the hurtful words I’ve read from people in terrible pain, striking out at those who caused their suffering, not even realizing how hurtful their words are. My heart aches for each person involved. There are followers of Jesus all over the world struggling to hear God’s whispers, unable to distinguish between the caresses of God and the searing pain of their own soul, in desperate need for God to come roaring out of heaven and scatter their enemies, who feed on them like vultures.
O blessed Father, look down upon us
We are Your children, we need Your love
We run before Your throne of mercy
And seek Your face to rise above
Our pain can lead us to believe we are orphans; that God has abandoned us and we are alone in our fight for justice, for peace. But sometimes feelings lie. They don’t tell the whole truth of what is happening.
God is already at work, fighting for us, scattering our enemies, putting right what went wrong. He longs to spread a healing balm on our wounds, and cradle us in His strong arms until our tears are spent and we finally find rest. But He won’t force Himself on anyone, even His Own.
There are no strangers
There are no outcasts
There are no orphans of God
So many fallen, but hallelujah
There are no orphans of God
I wish I could take away the pain I see written in all the words of so many hurting people! But I cannot. They cry out for justice and recompense, and they are ready to fight to get it. I don’t know that their actions will accomplish anything more than creating more hurt and pain, but I could be wrong. Only God knows these things. I only know I cannot give them what they long for. Only God can. All I can do is cry out to my Beloved, "NOW is the time! You said You would rescue Your people at the appointed time. Well, that time is NOW. They need you NOW. Come NOW!" And then watch Him act.
There are no strangers
There are no outcasts
There are no orphans of God
So many fallen, but hallelujah
There are no orphans of God
"Orphans of God" written by Twila LeBar and Joel Lindsey, sung by Avalon
I’ve been watching the SAG awards and my heart is aching. I so miss my home!!
I can’t believe that after all this time I see feel that LA is home; that the Industry is still home. Many have talked tonight about feeling so grateful to be a part of the acting tribe.
I miss my tribe! I don’t have one anymore and I really miss it.
My tribe had been the assistants; everyone from PAs to writers and producer’s assistants. My tribe was all of us who worked one job while working toward and dreaming of another. My tribe was all the wanna-be-soon-to-be’s. My tribe was sometimes at Sony, sometimes at Disney, but mostly at Paramount. Oh, man, how I miss those gates!!
My tribe was also at Mosaic. People who understand what it really means to be "on mission" with Jesus. Who understand the sacrifice it takes to live this life unplugged from the Matrix. Who relate to the not only the struggles but the joys of walking with Jesus; the very personal, quirky ways of God, and who are not afraid to enter into the hard conversations, live life over the edge and give of themselves till they bleed.
I miss LA more than I can say. I miss the feel of the city, the diversity and the crazy people. And yes, even the smog and traffic. I miss driving to the studio every day, walking through the gates and eating lunch at the commissary. I miss talking writing stuff with friends and my bosses and acting jaded about the "industry" at large. Most of all I miss my tribe. My peeps. I miss the creative community, both in the Industry and at Mosaic, who challenged me every single day to make every moment count, to create beauty where ever I went and to be light to the dark world how ever I could. Oh, God, how I miss it all!!
Its not that Nashville is bad, or that my church is unfriendly. Its just that it isn’t home. Mosaic is home. LA is home. I don’t know if anything will be able to replace them in my hearts, and I am working to make the new places I find myself in homey, to make them home as much as possible. I guess it will just take more time than I thought. I really do love Nashville.
But times like tonight remind why I love the Industry so much. There is a culture and a language I understand, that is my heart language. I fall naturally into it. When the actors talk about loving the green room and make up trailer, and hanging out around the craft services table, I understand them on a heart level. When S. Epatha Merkerson won her first SAG award at the age of 54, my heart soars because I know what it means to work so hard in such a hard industry and it gives me such hope that a woman can still get awards in their fifties in such an age-biased industry.
How awesome LA is! Yes, my friends — and all who stop by — if you live in Los Angeles, revel in it. Dance in the moonlight and sing on the freeway on your traffic-ridden drive to work. Smile at the homeless waiting at corners to sell you oranges or wash your windshields and feel warm inside that some film team decided to keep the work in your part of town instead of taking their money and jobs to Canada. Yeah, the rent is too high, housing prices are ridiculous, gas is downright unaffordable and the traffic is maddening. But man, you live in the most diverse, most amazingly entertaining and delightful city in the world! Revel in your home. Nothing can compare.
Its around this time that one’s stress level goes through the roof. If the thought of finding a parking space at any shopping establishment isn’t enough to drive you to road rage, the thought of spending a "joyous holiday" with family most likely will.
I know. None of us suffer from that problem. We all have perfect families that get along so well it makes the Cleavers look dysfunctional. (pah-leese.)
I saw the movie "The Family Stone" last weekend. I want to go into this in more detail, but as I need to leave for the airport soon I’ll just start the conversation and we can delve deeper when I come back next week.
The movie left me feeling disturbed and melancholy. It took me several days to figure out the real reason why — the obvious reason of the film’s ending notwithstanding (I won’t spoil it for those who like surprises). I realized after some self-probing, and prompting from God, that I saw myself in the lead character and felt cheated by the ending the writer’s gave her. She’s the nervous, uptight, perfectionistic oddball in this gathering of laid-back self-proclaimed group of tolerant artists. But the truth is, it’s the family that’s more intolerant, uptight and insecure than Sarah Jessica Parker’s character. They are the ones who have already determined that she doesn’t fit, and she becomes the scapegoat for everything that goes wrong during the holiday.
I understand her. Very well. I lived that life. I still live it in my mind. Family dynamics stick with us even when all our family is gone.
I wanted her to be celebrated for who she is, not be pressed to conform to the Stone Family image. She wasn’t and she did.
Some might say they see the ending differently; that she was just with the "wrong man" and the right one brought out the tolerant, calmer side of her. But I disagree.
Talking with friends over the last few weeks, I’ve heard many stories of the various dysfunctional families out there and the frustrations my friends face when going home for Christmas. And by the way, I believe we ALL come from dysfunctional families; because every parent is broken and struggles and doesn’t get it perfect, or right all the time. That means we all grow up with unmet emotional needs and unhealthy patterns of behavior. More on that another time. I understand their frustrations. I experience my own when my family gathers. I’m sure you do too. I’m going through counseling to discover all the subtle and not-so-subtle ways this has affected who I am today and to learn how to become the person God created me to be.
My question to you is, how do you deal with the brokenness in your family? Do you run from it, or face it head on, or get sucked into its vortex? Each year you go home for a holiday, how much to you rail against the role you’ve been given in your family? Or do you just roll your eyes, grit your teeth and get through the holiday by reminding yourself you only have x-amount of days left before you get to go back to being who you really are as an adult?
Do you even see the dysfunction in your own family?
What does God say we are to do when we find ourselves at odds with our own families, for godly, healthy reasons?
I saw The Skeleton Key tonight. Good movie overall. I like scary movies and this one has a few good "jumps" in it — where you butt may leave the seat. 🙂
What struck me most was the spiritism pervading the Old South. Living in the Land of Many Churches, I sometimes forget that this is also the Land of VooDoo and folk religions of many kinds.
The movie reminded me of my time in Ethiopia. How the witch doctors there work in conjunction with the Ethiopian Orthodox church, handing out "blessings", spells, amulets and all manner of things to ward of evil spirits, heal sicknesses and ensure long life and good crops.
As a western culture, and as Americans especially, we tend to forget what the rest of the world knows: the spirit world does exist and really does interact with the physical one. Spiritism and folk religions are alive and well in America — and impacting and influencing people all around us every day.
Ignoring it or not believing it has any power, as the movie clearly points out, does not negate its power. And don’t be fooled, it does have power. God allows Satan and his minions to "rule" here on earth. As spiritual/supernatural beings, they do have power. That’s why it is so vital that we as followers of Jesus step into the lives of others and envelope them with His love. We are like candles in a pitch black room illuminating the Truth so others may find their way to Him.
On my way home my mind began turning over what I’d seen and contemplating what God would have me do to help those blinded to the Truth of His love and His redeeming power. I was so deep in thought I hardly noticed when I arrived home. I guess I am still a missionary at heart, ’cause all I could think of was, "Jesus, how can we reach them? What will it take? What needs to be done?"
Sometimes I just need a little kick in the pants from God to remind me how wide the field and how ripe the harvest, and that it’s right in front of me.
I tell you, open your eyes and look at the fields! They are ripe for harvest. Even now the reaper draws his wages, even now he harvests the crop for eternal life, so that the sower and the reaper may be glad together. — John 4:35-36
Is it real life, or is it reel life?
I don’t know when this all began in my mind, but I was very young when it did. I mean very young.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve lived my life like I was in a movie. It made life more interesting to play at home, do my chores, attend church 3-plus times a week, go to school — especially go to school — imagining someone was watching what I was doing at various moments of the day, to see life through the "eyes" of a camera lens — long before I ever had one of my own, I took in my surroundings as if I were a camera panning and zooming, tracking and rack-focusing. This propensity didn’t fade as I got older. Even now I will drive to work, sunroof open, music blaring, and take in my surroundings as if it were a scene in some movie, unfolding the drama of life with every mile, whatever cd currently playing becoming the soundtrack.
I watch movies and find msyelf captivated by the feelings and emotions they invoke. Just the simple pan-back, pull-out movement of a "happily ever after" type ending entices me to live, to have an adventure, to suck the marrow out of life. I see the beautiful sky, the vibrant colors, the joy, contentment, and rest our heros now enjoy and I want it. I want to experience it too. I want life to be like a movie. Adventure, drama, tears, laughter, love — especially love, the kind that fights for what is right, for what is best, no matter the cost — and happy endings. Especially happy endings. I could use one of those about now.
I guess I really am a drama queen…
I’m watching the movie right now… not even an hour into it and already the battle is begun.
Why is it that Achilles got all the fame from this war, when it appears to me Hector had all the valor? Or am I missing something?
Forgive my ignorance. It’s been a long time since I read this story. And at that time I didn’t much care for details….
A place grownups say doesn’t exist. A place some would say you can only go in your mind. A place children visit everyday. And laugh and play and live as children ought to be able to live.
No, not the ranch, God forbid I talk about children visiting there!!
I’m talking about the place James Barrie created in "Peter Pan". Tonight Nina, Toby and I went to see Finding Neverland, a film inspired by the events surrounding the writing of the play. It’s an amazing story, a beautiful, sweet, filled with great performances, two-tissue movie.
I left contemplating Neverland, the possibility of its existence and what it really looks like. I wasn’t ever enthralled with the movie versions of Neverland, either animated or live-action. Perhaps that’s why I never bothered to read the book it came from. Now, however, I think I might like to. I’d like to see what kind of images the words conjure in my own mind. Would I see fairies and pirates and mer-people the way the movies make them look? Or would I see creatures far beyond the ability of artists to capture on celluloid.
I’m pretty convinced it’s the latter more than the former. Mom used to tell me all the time I have a very vivid and creative imagination. I’m not sure she always meant that as a compliment, but I always took it as one. 🙂 I don’t know how my imagination compares to others. I can’t crawl inside their heads and see…. but I do know I can imagine quite a bit, and always have. As a child, I lived more in my imagination than in the real world. I thought that I would outgrow that once I became a "grownup". I never did. Is that a bad thing??
I don’t visit Neverland like I used to. For many years I left my "adulthood" at the door and stepped into a world of magic and mystery. It’s amazing how adulthood can eventually steal you away from Neverland and keep you tied to the "real world". I was immune to that theft for most of my adult years, with only small bouts of adult-ness. Until last year. "Finding Neverland" points out that the death of someone you love, more than anything, can steal a person away from Neverland and leave them forever trapped in the Land of Adult. But it also brings up a question that has haunted me for ages: when does "believing" in magic and mystery become folly? When does imagination turn into pretense and/or denial of reality?
Can one live Neverland and in the real world? The movie would have us believe James Barrie did. He was Peter Pan, and also playwright J.M. Barrie… boy leader of Neverland’s lost boys and society’s man of the theatre…
But is it just more movie trickery, or can it really be done?
Adria and I watched the movie "Saved!" tonight. Wow. And whoa. I think I need to watch it again….
I highly recommend this movie. It was hysterical! And, unfortunately, so very true. There were many times I didn’t know whether to laugh, because honestly it was truly very funny… or whether to give into my embarrassment and hide my face in shame, because I’ve been that person, done that stuff, said those things, acted that way….
What a reality-check this movie was for me. The scenes where they are worshipping, I felt so uncomfortable… like I was either watching something I shouldn’t be a witness to (like two people making out), or like I was witnessing something that everyone knew was fake, but no one wanted to admit. I wonder if that’s how people who aren’t followers of Christ feel when they walk in on worship at churches?
It’s embarrassing to look back over my life and realize how many times I’ve acted like pretty much every character in the movie. I’ve been preachy, holier-than-thou-but-sincerely-intentioned Hilary Faye, and I’ve been rebellious Cassandra. I’ve been confused and earnest Mary, and misguided, troubled — dang, what was Mary’s boyfriend’s name?? — and push-around, passive aggressive Roland.
Amazingly enough, the most Christ-like character that I saw in the movie was the pastor/principal’s son — wish I could remember his character’s name as well… What he says to Mary, when her secret "sin" is finally, publicly, revealed is soooo Jesus: "Mary, I don’t care." How many times has Jesus said that to you when you’ve come to Him broken, ashamed and exposed? "I don’t care about that. It makes no difference to me. I love you. Period. Nothing can change that."
And Mary’s line at the end: "Why would God make us all so different, if He meant for us to all look the same?" Amen.
As usual, and as should be expected, they got some theology mixed up and backwards. But what I’m learning is that a little heresy is always to be expected. No one’s perfect, so no one’s gonna get all of God perfectly down. I think He knows that and is willing to work within the "margin of error". In my own life I’ve seen Him do WONDERS in that margin of error — which has often been a wide one.
Some of the classic lines I picked up from my first viewing:
"I hit Jesus with my van, EVERYTHING IS NOT OKAY."
"This is NOT a weapon, you idiot!" Mary, indicating the Bible Hilary Fay just threw at her, hitting her square in the back
"This is the most Jesus-centric band…!!" Hilary Faye, referring to her favorite Christian band….
Side Note: I think I’m gonna start referring to things as "Christ-centric"… sarcastically of course, especially those "family friendly" Christian radio stations… but don’t get me started on THAT topic… (YIKES!)
"I just thought she was doing a lot of stress eating… I didn’t want her to get a complex." Mary’s mom
And I really liked the raw honesty of Mary, standing in front of the church steeple, swearing in frustration, fear, confusion and anger. Been there. Done that. Maybe that sounds and looks like heresy, but I’ve learned God appreciates it and honors it far more than when I try to be all holy and pious when all that’s in me is screaming to high heaven because my world is falling apart at the seams. I think this is a true example of God’s command to us to let our "yes" be "yes" and "no" be "no". Honesty. Integrity — who we are outside is who we are inside.
I really do want to watch it again. There’s so much in this movie… it’s subtle, but potent.
Again, I highly recommend it, especially for Christians. It’s good every once in a while to get a reality check on how the rest of the world sees us. I do have one warning: if you don’t want the truth, if you don’t want to feel uncomfortable or have your paradigms shaken, don’t watch. This is not the movie for you. This will not make Christians feel good about how we’ve communicated Jesus to the rest of our culture. Nor should it. We haven’t done a very good job.
Okay… end of sermon for the day… Time to listen to a little Mindy Smith, read a little Orson Scott Card and head off to bed.