Ross and I spent Christmas Eve in the hospital.
Well, only a few hours, really. That morning, as we were rushing to get ready to visit his parents for lunch, Ross received a disturbing e-mail from his mom. In a nutshell, she said that Ross's dad may have had a mini-stroke, and they were in the hospital, and not to come visit because they weren't home. Naturally, we made plans to visit the hospital at once. We were encouraged by a call from Ross's dad, who tried to make light of the situation as best he could.
I won't get into all the details here, but suffice it to say that, being the holiday, John did not really get the care he needed. An MRI was promised on Christmas Eve and, as of Cindy's update last night, it still hadn't been done. He will likely be in the hospital for several more days.
Ross spent a lot of time being reflective the past few days. Although we had a really wonderful Christmas dinner with my family (it was a pajama party - I have awesome relatives!), I could tell that he was thinking about his dad. And who could blame him? Two of our good friends lost parents in the past few months. A former co-worker of mine lost her grandmother around the same time. We buried a friend from church two weeks ago who was about John's age. And, of course, this year we had two miscarriages.
Of course it was scary to think of losing him.
I got to thinking that is has been a miserable year for so many of my friends. Divorce, death, disappointment, job loss, broken relationships, political upheaval, busted vehicles, and of course, increasingly horrifying news stories, like those out of Connecticut and Oregon, have been on a seemingly endless parade through our lives. I don't know why. In a strange way, I feel comforted. I know that I was not alone in my grief this year. That isn't to say I'd wish loss or destruction on anyone else, of course.
It's just that Christmas has always been a hard time of the year for me, like it is for so very many people. It's a myth, I think, that only unmarried or otherwise lonely people become depressed around the holidays. What about those who have lost a dear friend or relative, or a child - especially those who are experiencing their first Christmas without that person? Those who are missing servicemen or women who are deployed? Those who have been through a divorce, regardless of whether they have remarried? Even those who are questioning their faith for one reason or another - the sweet and hopeful message of Christmas can be a difficult one to understand or accept.
This Christmas should have seen us with a beautiful baby girl. Olivia would have been 10 months old - the perfect age to enjoy her first Christmas. Old enough to smile, giggle, and babble at relatives, but young enough to cuddle and pass from aunt to aunt. Yet that isn't how we spent our holiday, and I don't think I will ever know why.
Still - I am grateful that my family is growing closer through our losses. My uncle lost both his parents last year, and Ross and I offered out home for Thanksgiving dinner. It might have been one of the best things we could have done for the family. Since then we have been spending more time with my dad, step-mum, aunt, uncle, and Gram - it's really all I have left. My sisters are out of town and my mother is out-of-state. My grandmother's brothers and sisters have all passed away, and my aunt and uncle never had children. I don't have first cousins. It's only seven of us. But we're continuing to grow closer. I am deeply grateful for that. There isn't any of that holiday drama surrounding us - unless my dad gets peevish and wants to discuss a hot political topic over coffee...but those conversations are becoming more rare as we realize that spending precious time together is far more important than being "right" politcally or morally. Fortunately, we all know and love Jesus and find our hope in Him. It's He alone who has been our strength this past year, even when we have felt faint and weak.
I have, many times this year, felt like a ghost. We taught the kids around Halloween that there are no such things as ghosts - at least, not like the ghosts Hollywood tells us about. Yet, it is that very image I feel I have been portraying...listless, pale, caught between two worlds and unsure of how to move forward.
In the year ahead, I am praying that this "ghostly" feeling is replaced by the power and conviction of the Holy Spirit, and that I, and my friends, are given new strength to forge ahead. I think another year like this one will utterly break me. I can admit that now. Although my faith is still strong, trust me - it's been shaken these past long months. I keep returning to that place of "Why, God?" and I get no answer. I don't know that I ever will in this lifetime. But that's not as depressing as it sounds.
This year has also brought with it a new infusion of hope. Because of my faith, the very thing that has been shaken and bruised and battered of late, I believe that there is an infinity beyond this life. God has given me a greater sense of eternity this year. I cannot see or comprehend "forever", yet it exists simultaneously with "now" - at least to God, for whom time is no barrier. It's so difficult to put into words, but there is an odd and deep sense of peace that comes to me when I think of eternity. I know it makes some people anxious, or confused, or irritated. Many people - even those who believe as I do - live their whole lives without actually contemplating it. Some dismiss it entirely. Yet because I have contemplated it, and studied it, and believe in it, I have been rewarded with the promise of seeing my children, who died before they were born. I have the promise of dancing with Linda at the throne of Christ. I have the promise of seeing my friends' parents and telling them "You raised some darn amazing kids!"
I have the promise of life everlasting. I need that to be my focus for 2013. Health for now, and hope for eternity.
Thursday, December 27, 2012
Friday, December 14, 2012
The Why of 'Who'
For 17 years, I have desperately wanted to be British.
I picked up the dialect as a child while watching Mary Poppins. For Dress-Up Day in seventh-grade, I chose to be Queen Elizabeth I (my mom had a heck of a time with the costume, but she eventually figured out how to make a ruff collar). I was reading classic British literature when my peers were still gasping over Goosebumps mysteries. I had already fashioned my opinions about Shakespeare, Dickens, Austen and Bronte years before my college courses prompted me to write about them.
But, alas, somehow I was born an American citizen, with a mongrel heritage mix of Italian, Belgian, German, Romanian, Slovakian, Yugoslavian, Granish, Czech, Polish, and half a dozen other eastern European nationalities thrown in for good measure (and excellent culinary skills). I'm short, and pale, and a little overweight. I'm a reader before almost anything else, and content to travel on adventures inside my head or on paper fare more than in actuality. I am, you could say, more a Hobbit than anything else.
I am actually in no way resentful of my citizenship. Trust me - I know there are far, far worse places I could have grown up. I have received a good education and all kinds of other perks by being an American. But, I admit, high quality entertainment has not been among them. Not really. Not for a long time.
My husband and I have not had cable since we were married nearly three years ago. We've adapted quite well. We use Netflix for the certain progams we like - though perhaps I should say programmes, because they're mostly British. And mostly Doctor Who.
I was very reluctant to watch my first episode. I know myself; I have an addictive personality (which explains the fourth cup of coffee in my hand as we speak) and I'm a Geek Girl through and through and, as mentioned above, I am a rabid anglophile. Of course I would like Doctor Who. Of course it would devour up all my free time, some of my work time, and a considerable amount of my subconscious as well. After seeing so many references to it on Pinterest (my other "hold-out" hobby), I figured I should probably take a look.
It took about, oh, 7 seconds after his appearance for Nine to become My Doctor. I am pretty sure I watched four episodes that night. My husband was working late and I was bored; I figured I'd give it a go after holding out so long. I got all the way through the first season before I finally confessed that I had been watching a science fiction series without him. He hopped on board right away and Ten became His Doctor. He now walks around the house doing his very best David Tennant impression - which is not very believable since he's bald. Charming, but not believable.
So, what it is about Doctor Who that is so appealing to us? I'm sure that entertainment magazines and internet chat rooms have already spend countless hours poring over this question, but I am going to answer it from my viewpoint: the rare (almost extinct, I imagine!) Conservative Geek Girl Viewpoint.
It's strange that so many Christians in my life would fall passionately in love with a series that doesn't question the existence of God so much as flat-out deny it. Or why we would so earnestly admire actors and writers who are confirmed atheists. In fact, why are we - as people who accept that the divine hand of God created the heavens and earth, that his son Jesus died for our sins, and that that Holy Spirit dwells within all believers - such huge science fiction fans?
I think it's because we believe in a higher power that we're fans. Science fiction teaches us that there is so much beyond our realm of comprehension that someone needs to come guide us along, show us the ropes, and encourage us. That someone could be The Doctor...or a starship captain...or a mysterious wizard...
...Or God himself.
Science fiction teaches us, more than any other genre, that human beings are capable of great, amazing things - as well as horrible mistakes and acts of impressive evil. That our minds are like fuses - once blown, a mass of conflict and challenges. That our hearts have the capacity for love beyond time and beyond measure. Beyond the constraints of logic.
The Bible teaches that, too.
"With God, all things are possible" sounds to me like the best sci-fi premise a person can imagine. "All things." As Christians, we usually reserve this comforting verse to encourage those who desire healing. Or employment. Or maybe help in finding a spouse or starting a family. But, my goodness, how incredibly narrow-minded of us! The One who made the stars can surely navigate them!
Who is to say that God - the real God, the Father, a member of the trinity and the Author and Finisher of our faith - can not exist in the same world as spaceships, lunar landings and forbidden planets? I say that he must exist there! That is not where I was headed today, yet it brings me back to the discussion of why we so adore Doctor Who.
I think what we love so much about it - beyond the deliciously camp effects, the charming actors, the incredibly clever script, the devious plot twists and emotional resonance - is the churning compassion that makes up the greatest portion of the Doctor's thought process. Although we continue to uncover his past scrap by scrap, we repeatedly see his deep, intrinsic love for others, and compassion that leads him frequently to sacrifice himself or what he cares about for the good of others. He sees all life as precious - and proves it by offering mercy to his enemies and encouragement to his allies. There is so great a well of selfless love in him - and it is not innate. It was born of grief, loss, and pain. Yet such things did not twist him into a hermit or a miser. They unplugged a well of nearly endless empathy and celebration that gushes out of him to the point of nearly drowning those he most treasures. There is no criticism in him, only curiosity. Admiration. Love beyond the physical.
How can we not love a character like that? How can we not infinitely prefer him to "our" own media models of self-seeking housewives, airheaded co-eds, crooked father figures and doped-up high schoolers? How can we not see just a glimpse of Christ's infinite compassion pouring out of this demi-god of a man? Even if the writers and creators don't believe in a higher power at all, they have managed to build for us a man more Biblically Christ-like in many ways than the "Christ" we worship in our churches today.
There, that was bold. I said it.
The Christ of scriptures was passionate, joyful, excited about everything. He adored his friends - his "companions", you might say. He was a teacher. He desired his followers and friends to understand things on a deeper level. Sometimes He was mysterious. There was a lot about Him that others simply couldn't comprehend; the vastness of His mission was too huge for them. He had an infintely strong sense of justice and yet showed mercy. And, okay, yeah, I guess you could even say He "regenerated", if you want to go that far.
I think it's interesting that in our "Christian" nation, we don't have those kinds of heroes on television. But in "atheist" Britain, they do.
Don't get me started on Sherlock. That's a whole 'nother can of worms. Awesome worms. British worms. But long-winded worms, nonetheless, and I have things to do today.
I picked up the dialect as a child while watching Mary Poppins. For Dress-Up Day in seventh-grade, I chose to be Queen Elizabeth I (my mom had a heck of a time with the costume, but she eventually figured out how to make a ruff collar). I was reading classic British literature when my peers were still gasping over Goosebumps mysteries. I had already fashioned my opinions about Shakespeare, Dickens, Austen and Bronte years before my college courses prompted me to write about them.
But, alas, somehow I was born an American citizen, with a mongrel heritage mix of Italian, Belgian, German, Romanian, Slovakian, Yugoslavian, Granish, Czech, Polish, and half a dozen other eastern European nationalities thrown in for good measure (and excellent culinary skills). I'm short, and pale, and a little overweight. I'm a reader before almost anything else, and content to travel on adventures inside my head or on paper fare more than in actuality. I am, you could say, more a Hobbit than anything else.
I am actually in no way resentful of my citizenship. Trust me - I know there are far, far worse places I could have grown up. I have received a good education and all kinds of other perks by being an American. But, I admit, high quality entertainment has not been among them. Not really. Not for a long time.
My husband and I have not had cable since we were married nearly three years ago. We've adapted quite well. We use Netflix for the certain progams we like - though perhaps I should say programmes, because they're mostly British. And mostly Doctor Who.
I was very reluctant to watch my first episode. I know myself; I have an addictive personality (which explains the fourth cup of coffee in my hand as we speak) and I'm a Geek Girl through and through and, as mentioned above, I am a rabid anglophile. Of course I would like Doctor Who. Of course it would devour up all my free time, some of my work time, and a considerable amount of my subconscious as well. After seeing so many references to it on Pinterest (my other "hold-out" hobby), I figured I should probably take a look.
 |
| My favorite Doctor! |
So, what it is about Doctor Who that is so appealing to us? I'm sure that entertainment magazines and internet chat rooms have already spend countless hours poring over this question, but I am going to answer it from my viewpoint: the rare (almost extinct, I imagine!) Conservative Geek Girl Viewpoint.
It's strange that so many Christians in my life would fall passionately in love with a series that doesn't question the existence of God so much as flat-out deny it. Or why we would so earnestly admire actors and writers who are confirmed atheists. In fact, why are we - as people who accept that the divine hand of God created the heavens and earth, that his son Jesus died for our sins, and that that Holy Spirit dwells within all believers - such huge science fiction fans?
I think it's because we believe in a higher power that we're fans. Science fiction teaches us that there is so much beyond our realm of comprehension that someone needs to come guide us along, show us the ropes, and encourage us. That someone could be The Doctor...or a starship captain...or a mysterious wizard...
...Or God himself.
Science fiction teaches us, more than any other genre, that human beings are capable of great, amazing things - as well as horrible mistakes and acts of impressive evil. That our minds are like fuses - once blown, a mass of conflict and challenges. That our hearts have the capacity for love beyond time and beyond measure. Beyond the constraints of logic.
The Bible teaches that, too.
"With God, all things are possible" sounds to me like the best sci-fi premise a person can imagine. "All things." As Christians, we usually reserve this comforting verse to encourage those who desire healing. Or employment. Or maybe help in finding a spouse or starting a family. But, my goodness, how incredibly narrow-minded of us! The One who made the stars can surely navigate them!
Who is to say that God - the real God, the Father, a member of the trinity and the Author and Finisher of our faith - can not exist in the same world as spaceships, lunar landings and forbidden planets? I say that he must exist there! That is not where I was headed today, yet it brings me back to the discussion of why we so adore Doctor Who.
| Everyone else's favorite Doctor (but, yes, I love him, too!) |
How can we not love a character like that? How can we not infinitely prefer him to "our" own media models of self-seeking housewives, airheaded co-eds, crooked father figures and doped-up high schoolers? How can we not see just a glimpse of Christ's infinite compassion pouring out of this demi-god of a man? Even if the writers and creators don't believe in a higher power at all, they have managed to build for us a man more Biblically Christ-like in many ways than the "Christ" we worship in our churches today.
There, that was bold. I said it.
The Christ of scriptures was passionate, joyful, excited about everything. He adored his friends - his "companions", you might say. He was a teacher. He desired his followers and friends to understand things on a deeper level. Sometimes He was mysterious. There was a lot about Him that others simply couldn't comprehend; the vastness of His mission was too huge for them. He had an infintely strong sense of justice and yet showed mercy. And, okay, yeah, I guess you could even say He "regenerated", if you want to go that far.
I think it's interesting that in our "Christian" nation, we don't have those kinds of heroes on television. But in "atheist" Britain, they do.
Don't get me started on Sherlock. That's a whole 'nother can of worms. Awesome worms. British worms. But long-winded worms, nonetheless, and I have things to do today.
Now Leaving The Shire...
Very few people appeared to be over 35 years old. The vast majority were short, dark-haired and wearing glasses. The girls were in simple clothes - drab coats, skinny jeans, and functional boots. The guys wore Star Wars or Avengers T-shirts. Some wore suspenders. There was pleasant and polite chit-chat among the fans as they nibbled on popcorn and rattled boxes of Milk Duds (okay, the Milk Dud rattler was my husband). Someone booed at an advertisement for Twilight-themed gift cards.
It was nice to be among my people.
I'm still a little surprised that we were able to get tickets - even a week in advance, one of the midnight showings at our favorite theatre was already sold out. Ross and I nabbed tickets for the 3-D showing against my better judgment. I might be a Geek Girl, but generally I can take or leave 3-D. Like roller coasters. They're fine and all, but I prefer not to be involved with them, thanks.
Plus, paying $14 for a movie ticket gives me a rash.
Still, we packed our buckets of snacks like good little Hobbits (I brought homemade chocolate cupcakes in my giant purse) and struggled to find two seats together. Pastor Stephanie had given up a heads-up that they had opened the theatre two hours in advance, and even at 11:00, she and her family had to split up because most of the seats were already taken! We ended up sitting near the front, to the far left. Which I disliked. But hey...what are you going to do? At least it wasn't the front row.
The previews seemed to last longer than usual - or maybe we were all just chomping at the bit after over a year of tantalizing trailers and teasers. Although, I did let out an audible "Squee!" when they previewed the upcoming Star Trek movie. With Benedict Cumberbatch as The Ultimate Bad Guy. Mentally I prepared a summer's worth of dates with Ross - most of them centering around science fiction or superhero movies.
Not that he'd mind.
I won't release any spoilers here. No, really. 'Cause I absolutely despise it when we Whovians who have some, er, catching up to do accidentally read the spoilers that are vomited all over Pinterest and tumblr! So, no, I won't do that to anyone.
All I will say is that Martin Freeman was born to play Bilbo Baggins. That should come as no surprise to anyone who's already planning on seeing the movie - or anyone who's ever seen him act in, like, anything. Tiny, itty-bitty almost-spoiler alert: there is a brief scene featuring various woodland creatures being helped by a kooky wizard. One animal present is a small hedgehog. There are rampant internet comparisons of Martin Freeman to hedgehogs and Benedict Cumberbatch to otters (if you're a Sherlock fan, you get this...if not, move along). Therefore, I could not help but miss Sherlock during that scene and wonder why the BBC is trying to destroy my life by slowly devouring it with excellent programming. Moving on...there was a great deal more comedy and light-hearted banter in this movie, as compared to the Lord of the Rings trilogy. There are a few gentle nods to the other movies, but this is very easily a stand-alone movie, for anyone whose husband (or wife, for that matter) might be goading them into a sci-fi or fantasy movie night.
Speaking from a conservative perspective, for anyone who might have teenage or pre-teen fans in the house, I'll say that in general there is less violence than LoTR. However, it does look more realistic because of the technological advancements made since the trilogy was released. Tiny, itty-bitty almost-spoiler alert: there are several body parts chopped off in this movie. Bad guys' body parts, of course, but it might be jarring to younger viewers. There's not a lot of blood, though. On the flip side, the presentation of the dwarves in this movie is quite different than the Gimli we meet elsewhere, and makes for a more "fun" fellowship than surly Sean Bean and L'Oreal spokes-elf Legolas.
So, basically, I'm saying: go see it. The 3-D is pretty darn neat, but it's not necessary for the enjoyment of the film. The great acting, humor, beautiful scenery and spectacular CG take care of that.
It was nice to be among my people.
I'm still a little surprised that we were able to get tickets - even a week in advance, one of the midnight showings at our favorite theatre was already sold out. Ross and I nabbed tickets for the 3-D showing against my better judgment. I might be a Geek Girl, but generally I can take or leave 3-D. Like roller coasters. They're fine and all, but I prefer not to be involved with them, thanks.
Plus, paying $14 for a movie ticket gives me a rash.
Still, we packed our buckets of snacks like good little Hobbits (I brought homemade chocolate cupcakes in my giant purse) and struggled to find two seats together. Pastor Stephanie had given up a heads-up that they had opened the theatre two hours in advance, and even at 11:00, she and her family had to split up because most of the seats were already taken! We ended up sitting near the front, to the far left. Which I disliked. But hey...what are you going to do? At least it wasn't the front row.
The previews seemed to last longer than usual - or maybe we were all just chomping at the bit after over a year of tantalizing trailers and teasers. Although, I did let out an audible "Squee!" when they previewed the upcoming Star Trek movie. With Benedict Cumberbatch as The Ultimate Bad Guy. Mentally I prepared a summer's worth of dates with Ross - most of them centering around science fiction or superhero movies.
Not that he'd mind.
I won't release any spoilers here. No, really. 'Cause I absolutely despise it when we Whovians who have some, er, catching up to do accidentally read the spoilers that are vomited all over Pinterest and tumblr! So, no, I won't do that to anyone.
All I will say is that Martin Freeman was born to play Bilbo Baggins. That should come as no surprise to anyone who's already planning on seeing the movie - or anyone who's ever seen him act in, like, anything. Tiny, itty-bitty almost-spoiler alert: there is a brief scene featuring various woodland creatures being helped by a kooky wizard. One animal present is a small hedgehog. There are rampant internet comparisons of Martin Freeman to hedgehogs and Benedict Cumberbatch to otters (if you're a Sherlock fan, you get this...if not, move along). Therefore, I could not help but miss Sherlock during that scene and wonder why the BBC is trying to destroy my life by slowly devouring it with excellent programming. Moving on...there was a great deal more comedy and light-hearted banter in this movie, as compared to the Lord of the Rings trilogy. There are a few gentle nods to the other movies, but this is very easily a stand-alone movie, for anyone whose husband (or wife, for that matter) might be goading them into a sci-fi or fantasy movie night.
 |
| Because beards turn any story into an epic! |
So, basically, I'm saying: go see it. The 3-D is pretty darn neat, but it's not necessary for the enjoyment of the film. The great acting, humor, beautiful scenery and spectacular CG take care of that.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)