Tag Archive | love

Beauty and the Beast: A Movie Review

beauty and the beast“Can anyone really be happy if they’re not free?”

Yes, I did take out my phone during the movie so that I could jot down this quote from Disney’s live action “Beauty and the Beast.” My 14-year-old daughter and I finally got to see this amazing movie with some friends on Friday night. I had read the hype. I had seen the posts about the gay kissing scene. I couldn’t believe all that was being said in such scorn.

Fake news doing its best to cast dispersions wherever it can.

A father’s love for his daughter (Maurice, played very well by Kevin Kline, and Belle, portrayed beautifully by Emma Watson of “Harry Potter” fame) and a daughter’s love for her father take a very close backseat to the love story of Belle and the beast in this grand tale. What was added to the original animated movie and what was left out did not take away from the pleasure.

I went into this movie with an open mind, wanting to watch it critically, yet not wanting to jump to any early conclusions. I soon found myself caught up in the fun of the old songs brought to new life and the way computer generated imagery brought to life the household objects in the beast’s castle.

Gaston (Luke Evans) was as dastardly in this film as he was heroic in The Hobbit: “Battle beauty and the beast castof the Five Armies.” The mob mentality of the citizens on the hunt for the beast reminded me sadly of how easily people are swayed by one charismatic person’s twist of the facts. Does the beast have claws? Yes. Does he have big, sharp teeth? Yes. Use those things to scare people and a mob is born.

Though the timeline is vague, it appears to be a few days later when Belle has become friends with the beast. He takes a chance and addresses the idea of someone like her ever having affection for someone like him. When she suggests, “Why not?” he is encouraged and asks, “So you could be happy here?” That’s when Belle says what I’ve quoted above: “Can anyone really be happy if they’re not free?”

When Belle discovers that her father is in danger, the beast immediately says that she must go. He’s willing to give her up, though at this point he loves her, because he knows it’s the right thing to do. Through her act of caring for him after the wolf attack even though she was very afraid, and his letting her go, though it would condemn him to beasthood forever, sacrificial love is shown.

Love grows not from boasting and blustering about how wonderful we are and how much the other person needs us, but by the acts of kindness that help the other person see how valuable they are, despite appearances. Belle tends the beast when he’s injured, even though he had raged at her just moments before. The beast gives Belle access to the most wonderful library (definitely her love language) she has ever seen. Small acts; huge results.

Courage, hope, service to another, sacrifice, freedom. These are all themes brought out and examined all from within the package of a well-loved story and grand musical numbers that will continue to stand the test of time.

Love that is required and devotion that is paid for is not real. Only when we give those things freely can we be truly happy.

 

images from (1) movies.disney.co.uk and (2) IMDb

Fairytales: A Guest Post From Instagram

My 13-year-old daughter recently posted something on her Instagram that I wanted to share. I was blown away by her words. I fixed the spelling but left the punctuation as is.

prince on horse“You know the perfect fairytale has a prince and a princess, and in the tale, the princess is in danger and the prince comes to rescue her? Well let me tell you one of those fairytales right now.

It’s about a prince, a noble, kind, and truthful prince who loved his princess very much, but his princess was in danger, she was in danger of herself, she was broken.

The prince made it his mission to help her, for even though he loved her, he could not be with her if her shattered parts were never mended.princess by hedges

He sacrificed everything to be with her, fixed her with the power of his blood, and he took her and told her to trust him, he loved her with all of his heart, and he promised her that one day, she would be his bride, and they would live happily ever after in his kingdomperfect kingdom. The End.”

Sappy teenaged-girl story? Or a truth for the ages?

He loves us. Oh, how He loves us.

 

 

 

 

 

photoillustrations from: imgur.com and Pinterest (2)

No Perfect Parenting, part 2

Last week I mentioned a couple of articles on parenting that I had recently read. (See that post here). The author of the article on spoiling kids and I have agreed that everyone is entitled to their own decisions on how they parent. We also agreed that we can’t know everything about someone’s parenting style without knowing them personally and in depth so, with that in mind and with respect, here are some responses I have to some of the other things in her post:

I don’t think my kids learn to be generous because I give them things they haven’t earned, but because they see me giving to others who are in need. We support full-time missionaries as a family. We support friends who go on short-term mission trips. They’ve learned to set apart 10 percent of their allowance or work earnings every month and then choose a ministry they want to support with it. This summer, my boys are helping send a couple and a graduating high school senior from our church to Italy on a missions trip. They see me put dollars in the baseball helmet of the high-school team trying to raise money to purchase lights for their field. They see their father take a homeless man into a restaurant to buy him a meal. They see me buy gas for a woman who says her debit card was stolen and she needs to get to work.

Do I lavish affection on my kids? That was a lot easier to do when they were little. My teenage boys don’t really go for that so much anymore. But I hug them and tell them I love them often. Do I do things for them that they could do for themselves? Yes, on occasion. But I tell you what, my 11-year-old knows how to make her own bed, and her own meals, and do her own laundry.  If she needs clean clothes, she knows how to do it. But if I’m doing a load that needs more to be full, I’ll do hers with mine. And I help her fold stuff and put it away sometimes. None of my kids are going to leave my house without knowing how to keep something clean and keep themselves fed in a healthy manner (now, whether they pig out on Pop-Tarts once they’re on their own is a question for another day).

Do I make them the center of my universe? Absolutely not. They are an important, sweet, vital part of that universe. But Jesus is the center. And David comes next, no matter what. When they leave the nest, he’ll be the one staying here. And they know that. They complain every once in awhile that we always take each other’s side. Yep. Pretty much. But what they don’t know is that behind closed doors, we talk things out and occasionally win the other to another way of thinking. In our house, it’s usually about changing Dad’s mind about pets.

My kids are not allowed to speak unkindly to each other, they aren’t allowed to laugh if one of the others gets hurt. If they want something, they work for it. But that’s about stuff, that’s not about love. We don’t ever tell them they’re not good enough to get something. Yes, the harsh reality will come at them soon enough, but I’m certainly going to do my best to get them ready to face it while they’re still in the safety of my home. You break something that belongs to someone else? I still love you, but you’re paying to replace it. Or you receive grace from the owner, which I’ve seen happen more often than not. Not gonna happen in a store. You break it, you buy it. You didn’t win a game? You don’t get a trophy. I’ll tell you I love you and that I’m proud of your effort. But the winner gets the prize.

You want that new iPod? Better start looking for extra jobs to earn it. I’ll teach you how to do that, but I’m not doing it for you. The essentials I gladly provide as God gives us provision, but the extras are on you. God loves to lavish good things on His children, so ask Him to provide that which is the desire of your heart. Oftentimes, we find that our desires change as we seek to align them to God’s desires for us.

IMG_1112 - Version 2My bottom line is this: our children are very, very important. They are vulnerable, empty pots that will get filled with whatever comes along to fill them. Will it be Jesus or will it be the world? If I keep them filled up with the love and heart of Jesus, there won’t be room for anything else. I want to raise independent adults who know how to do things for themselves, and who rely on Jesus for every step they take.

How about you? In what ways do you help your kids be independent yet reliant on Jesus?

 

 

I See You

IMG_7606This morning, I noticed this cryptic message on my desk. I would normally attribute this kind of message to my husband, as we have been known to hide a small flyer with the Geico eyes on a stack of money in each other’s underwear drawer. But he says he didn’t do it. Must have been one of my kids. Perhaps fans of stalker movies would be unnerved by such a thing, but my mind immediately went to the movie “Avatar,” which came out in 2009.

The premise is that a group of ugly Americans bent on mining a precious ore from the planet Pandora send in a specialized team to try to talk the indigenous people, the Na’vis, into moving away from the area where this substance is most concentrated. If they don’t leave, the company plans on wiping them out. Problem is, this place is where their central spiritual life lives. It’s a bit more complicated than that, but, in a nugget, “avatars,” or beings made to resemble the Na’vis, are controlled remotely by an amazing scientific process of a sort of mind control. Anyway, a crippled former Marine gets the job of an avatar guard for a team studying the planet for research reasons, gets separated from his team, and ends up falling in love with one of the Na’vi women. In the process, he agrees to infiltrate the people and try to convince them to move. What he learns changes his mind. They cannot be moved, and should not be moved, and the wealth-aquiring aspirations of the mining company are really evil. (Check out this link if you want to know more.)

OK, so, what does that have to do with seeing? Well, instead of saying, “I love you,” Jake, the former Marine, and Neytiri, the Na’vi woman he loves, say “I see you.” It goes deeper than just saying, “Oh yeah, there you are.” It means I know you. I am a student of you. I am invested in learning your soul.

I recently read a really great article by Dr. Kelly Flanagan (see “Why One Text Message is More Romantic Than a Hundred Valentine’s Cards) about how something one loves is something one searches for when it’s missing. It’s called “object permanence” and babies learn that as they grow. That’s why “peek-a-boo” works with babies. Now you see it. Now you don’t. When you show up again, the child is thrilled. But if you take something a baby is enjoying away from them, they won’t go and look for it; they simply assume it doesn’t exist anymore. Eventually, they learn that it’s still around somewhere, and if they want it, they need to find it.

Dr. Flanagan asserts that letting your significant other know that you’re thinking about them throughout the day is more a sign of how much you love them than the most extravagant of gifts. A text message saying “I’m thinking of you” once a day can do more for your relationship than a dozen roses once a year. When you’re not there, I’m searching for you. When we’re not together, a part of me is missing. When I’m with you, I really see who you are. I see into your soul.

More than 20 years ago I heard a wonderful sermon by one of my favorite pastors, Chuck Swindoll. It was titled “Love, Sweet Love” and it contained the ABC’s of what love does: I Accept you as you are; I Believe that you are valuable; I Care when you hurt; I Desire what is best for you and I Erase all offenses.

I see you.

Happy Valentine’s Day

Always Keep Looking At Jesus

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This morning, the day before we celebrate Thanksgiving in America, I was reading a devotional by Pastor Ed Young. His last words to me today were these: Always keep looking at Jesus, and tell others what you see.

With so much controversy, meanness and downright hate we hear from everyone from the press to the people on the street these days, these words are brilliant. Always keep looking at Jesus, and tell others what you see.

Oh, if only everyone, even those who don’t follow Him, would do that, how much different would things be? When I look at Jesus, I see obedience. He always and only did what His Father told Him to do. He obeyed his earthly parents. The result of that was a perfect life, lived always at the center of the Father’s will. How did He do that? Well, being fully God Himself helped, but He listened. He often went off to a quiet place to pray. His food was to do the will of the One who sent Him.

When I look at Jesus, I see compassion. He healed those who came around Him—and even some who had to have someone come in their stead. He spoke kindly. He had life in His words for those who were dying. The only time he spoke roughly, it wasn’t to sinners, it was to those who thought they were godly, but were “whitewashed sepulchers.” They might look good on the outside, but inside, they held only death. Hypocrites. He had no tolerance for them. The lost He lead to life. I don’t know who said it, but I love this quote: Jesus did not come to make bad people good; He came to make dead people live. Jesus’ words brought life to those who heard Him.

When I look at Jesus, I see unconditional love. He knew people all around Him were bound for hell, and He loved them. He spent time with them—yes, sinners! He taught them. And then, in the act of ultimate love, He died for them. The Scriptures say that without the shedding of blood, there is no forgiveness of sins. Without forgiveness, people perish. Ultimate love, ultimate compassion, ultimate obedience.

When people see me, hear me, read what I write, can they tell I’ve been looking at Jesus?

When you look at Jesus, what do you see?

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He asked “Will you?” I answered, “Yes!”

sc0079bb1f The day was June 12, 1990; the place: San Bernardino, Calif. We were anticipating the wedding of a friend a few days later, and then a 7-week separation as David traveled to the former Soviet Union to record several languages of the JESUS film. We had talked about marriage, shopped for rings in an out-of-town mall so no one would see us, and decided to wait until fall and the end of a busy travel schedule. Or so I thought.

But in order to spend a little time together before our separation, we decided to go up to the Arrowhead Springs Hotel, then the headquarters of Campus Crusade for Christ, and enjoy the view and each other. David had arranged to borrow a red-and-white-checked tablecloth from friends, packed a picnic basket with crystal goblets and Martinelli’s sparkling cider, and a book of poetry. As we sat on the back lawn overlooking the city, David, with a bachelor party to attend in a short time, suggested we pray together. We closed our eyes, clasped hands, and prayed for safety in his travels to an unstable part of the world, and for our hearts as we were separated from each other. In the middle of the prayer, David stopped and said, “Hold on a minute, God.” I thought he was getting choked up from the emotion of the moment.

Far from it, apparently. With my eyes still closed, giving him a minute to compose himself, I felt his hand on my chin, lifting my head and encouraging me to open my eyes. He looked into them and said something like, “Will you marry me?”

The rest is just a blur. I think I said “yes” first, and them something about, “I thought we were going to wait,” and then he pulled out the ring and placed it on my finger. Yea!

Now, 23 years later, as I think about what that day meant, I realize that his simple “Will you?” was much more complex than I first thought. By saying yes, I was agreeing that I would be his biggest fan. I would know him better than anybody and allow myself to be known. I would love him best, judge him least. I was agreeing to live 1 Corinthians 13, not keeping a record of wrong, never giving up. sc00863cfeHas it always been easy? No. Has it always been worth it? Unequivocally, yes.

It’s been 23 years, three kids, three miscarriages, two cats, two dogs, numerous fish and crabs, one bird, two apartments, one cross-country move, two houses, one set of parents dying, one set of parents divorcing, his mom moving in, lots of laughter, lots of tears, and always, without fail, a boatload of love and grace and forgiveness.

Happy engagement anniversary, Hunny. I still will.

Thankful today for:

901. history

902. summer break

903. a successful first year of teaching 6th grade

904. the chance to work on Mackinac Island for a few days

905. air travel–even if I don’t like it very much

906. gift cards

907. bike rides

908. family visits

909. possibilities

910. roses

Rocking a Mile in His Chair

rocking chair

Today, April 9th, marks the 7th anniversary of my dad’s death. I vividly remember the call from my mom. She asked me if I was sitting down. That’s classic, isn’t it? My first thought was that she had found out some bad news about her health; she was suffering with pancreatic cancer at the time, diagnosed just 6 months before. What she said instead came as a complete shock: Dad was dead.

Just a week or so before they had returned from a cruise. Just that weekend they had gone on their annual getaway  with the group of friends they had known since college. Apparently, they had come in from that weekend just that day. Dad didn’t feel very good, so he went into the living room and sat down in his favorite rocking chair. Several minutes later, Mom went to check on him, and he was dead.

My dad was an alcoholic. He had congestive heart failure and high blood pressure. It had only been a short while ago that he had almost died falling down the stairs at their house and then gone through alcohol withdrawal while recovering in the hospital.

But I was still shocked to hear that he was dead. What I found out later was that Mom hadn’t exactly been forthright with us about his health. Even on their cruise the week before they had called 911 from the hotel before they embarked. Apparently, the EMTs were frequent visitors, and I knew nothing about it. It’s hard being more than 2,000 miles away. She didn’t want us to worry.

My dad was not a touchy-feely, hugging, emotion-revealing kind of guy. I can probably count the times he told me he loved me on one hand. That used to make me really angry. Girls need their dads to lavish them with love so that they grow up secure in their identity as females, confident of who they are as women. I didn’t get that, and I felt gipped.

And then I look at the rocking chair that now sits in my bedroom–the one that was given to my parents when I was born–the one in which my dad took his final breath–and I try to see things from his perspective. I try to rock a mile in his chair.

He grew up the only child of older parents, and, if my grandfather was with him anything like he was with us, he didn’t get much huggin’ in his home either. I imagine he didn’t get many compliments or encouragement.

He always felt that he married up and that he never really fit in with my mom’s family, never fully felt the approval of her parents.

He worked in an industry that was constantly growing and changing, and therefore he went through many job changes and many seasons of being out of work.

He had three kids in four years–that’s enough to drive anyone a little crazy–and another 7 years later. The financial responsibilities that were on  him were great, and not helped by his desire to live a lifestyle that he felt would allow my mom to maintain her place in society. Or so he perceived.

And frankly, he didn’t handle it well. The drinking grew worse, the jobs became less steady, and the downward spiral of depression and alcoholism finally took their toll. To look at him on the outside, you really wouldn’t know it was that bad. He could laugh, he drove a nice car, he loved to travel. But I think inside was a sad boy who never got the kind of love he deserved.

I miss my dad. I’m not mad at him anymore. I sit in his favorite chair and remember what he was like before the pressure got too bad. He used to take me to Golden State Warrior games for my birthday. He loved college football games and he and Mom had season tickets to the Cal Bears. He loved cars, he flew small planes, he sailed, he collected Kodak cameras and loved to take pictures, he loved traveling and eating fine food. And I’m sure he loved his kids; he just didn’t know how to express it.

Love you, Dad. Hope to see you in heaven. And when I see you, I’m going to give you a big hug.

Thankful today for:

851. the opportunity to go work with my husband out of town

852. a son with a driver’s license

853. good students, both the ones I teach and the ones I parent

854. no more lows in the 40s

855. dinner parties

856. close grocery stores

857. an abundance of choices

858. free stuff

859. hope

860. my sweet 4-year-old nephew whom I hardly ever get to see 😦