Have you ever gotten an award for simply participating? - showed up to an event even though you didn't want to (check) - felt really sick but went to school or work anyway (check) - cleaned up after a holiday meal even though you would rather watch tv (check) - talked to a new person on the metro, at a meeting or a party (check) - wrote a thank you card for a gift, dinner or a friendship (check) The Oscar awards 2019: Bohemian Rhapsody, The Favourite, Black Panther, BlackKklansman, Green Book, Vice, A Star is Born and Roma are the films nominated for best pictures of 2018. Each push the boundaries and communicate the human condition of stories. Bohemian Rhapsody and the explosion of the band Queen in the 1970's tells a story, as they describe, as band member misfits reaching an audience of misfits. It was a prelude to an undeniably magnetic chemistry and the power of music. As we are drawn into the story, we feel the subtle cultural threads of the emergence of aids and the world's support against famine relief through Live Aid. As our feet stomp, a new beat ushers in a cultural shift of awareness. The Favourite weaves the duality of friendship through power and deceit. Two women vying for the love of the Queen who is a pawn in her own world of misery and responsibility. Her internal struggle to be loved leaves her vulnerable to corruption. Black Panther is a beautifully crafted cinematic reproduction of a fictitious world of villains and heroes. The first all black cast of actors and actresses, it ignites the beauty of skin and costume onto a movie screen and articulates a larger context of inclusion and identity. With the premier of Black Panther, a u-tube video gone viral expressed opinion through the eyes of kids. It was a spontaneous explosion of song and dance amongst elementary school aged children at a predominantly all black school the moment they heard they would be going as a school to see the movie. No agenda, just the power of film to be a voice in a silent story. BlackKKlansman is the elusive disease of supremacy and it's ugly and distorted view of reality. It's prejudice extended it's hatred beyond race toward anti-semitism, anti-gay, anti-feminism. The movie is crafted in such a way as to incorporate music, protests and the law enforcement to bring light upon a real story that continues today. It is the challenge we all face toward the eradication of bigotry and hatred. Green Book is a jaunt down rural south between an educated black musician and his white, Italian body guard. It embarks on a story of racism, and music and the judgements prevalent in white America. It is the building of a friendship and how that, in turn, changes the outcome of a story. A Star is Born is a riveting tale of love and heart-ache. It is a re-enactment of one of my favorite movies from the 1970's. Re-vamped through a current narrative, the shine of authenticity is articulated in simplicity; beauty to come as you are and the smashing of two stories into one deep love. It is the raw and complicated messiness of love. Inspiration Song, Shallow (Oscars) Lady Gaga and Bradley Cooper Roma is visually stunning. It is a story about a young teenage housekeeper in Mexico. It weaves poverty and privilege throughout two women's lives but loosely draws on friendship and hardship in the disintegration of la familia. With no fancy story line, it draws you in.
Another movie nominated in the "best actress" category, the Wife held a sentiment that resonated - a writer needs to be read. A writer needs to be read! That is the story in culture today: people needing to be heard and seen. That is the story of the gospel - His story told through our story.
For about six weeks, I was looking forward to a weekend in Portland, Or with my two daughters. One was flying in from Los Angeles and the other was taking a bus from another part of the state. For Christmas, I bought the three of us book tour tickets to see Michelle Obama. It was cold in Portland, Or that weekend. Mid morning Friday, I thought a trip to the Japanese Gardens in winter would be a good perspective. Because of my impending divorce, I had started incorporating mindfulness meditation and yoga into my routine; the gardens in winter were beautiful. Snow dusted trees and grass amid the sound of running water. My daughters paired off and I followed behind. Getting lost taking in the stillness, capturing the beauty with my camera, I delighted in the quietness of winter.
It was such a calming in the midst of my storm. It had been a difficult Christmas and my daughters responded with such grace and compassion. They created the most perfect celebration of the savior's birth only days before December 25th. It was the gentle and simple elements of thought and detail in making our time special. They understood me; they love both their mother and their father equally. This Portland, Or weekend was in response to that.
In the hours that followed the Japanese gardens, I tried to get into their stories and lives. With no agenda and no expectation, I meandered. It was later that night, that I received an email that the book tour had been canceled due to an impending threat of snow. I tried to push back the disappointment at the words I read. So we went to the Oscar nominated documentary shorts that next day. This category draws upon the film makers story by diving into the human condition in four 20 minute "condensed" gut-wrenching stories of people's lives. I felt drained. As we left, I begged my heart for the escape valve of decompression and asked my daughters to let me know what they were thinking. Quick to respond, they said, mom... "we are not all verbal processors." Funny but true, we continued along our way. We had a snow storm that day in Oregon but nothing worthy to cancel a book tour. I didn't vote for Barrack Obama. I was far to the right; I always had been until about five years ago where my story started to be influenced by other stories. Perhaps it was the quiet and deliberate protests or the conversations. Possibly, it was my daughters involvement in the elections or in researching for themselves the stories of others. Maybe it was the articulate voices through my daughter's camera lens or the posters that shouted inclusion from my other daughter's quiet and still voice. Either way, the wave of a movement toward listening began to change in me what I heard. In the past years, I reached out to my father where his story began to illuminate and change my perspective of him. What was being chiseled out in me was the soot of judgement permeating the imperfect belief systems I had created in the internal marrow of my childhood. The more I listened, the more I questioned. I was growing up. Where my daughter fell short of her reading goal last year of only 60 books, I struggled with having read 6. Where all three of my children's affinity toward podcasts strengthened their desires to communicate a story, I listened acutely to the tune of those around me. When social media began to soften into a quieting distancing like a life ring drifting out to sea, my voice softened too. I felt alone and dis-oriented in the movement toward change. I grappled toward the stories told on and off the screen. I listened to Michelle Obama's book, Becoming on audible. I enjoyed hearing her voice telling her story and how her childhood permeated subtly into a larger platform as she had a front row view of life in the White House. Although there was no snow, it was overcast that day. The dark clouds held strong under the skies of a simple Saturday in February where we wandered for hours in a book store, sipping coffee in an old hotel and taking black and white pictures in a vintage photo booth. We walked on sidewalks with no umbrellas and when a stranger, with quiet anticipation hugged my daughter and said, "I thought that was you" and talked about the pictures she had taken, I took the substance in. When my other daughter said, "this was her roommate's sister's design" in a clothing shop, she had me take a picture of them in the clothes so she could send them took pictures to send to the designer. It was here in these moments that I drank in the goodness of youth. Having been filled up that morning with a sense of inclusion, I was open to the dusting of the savior's story upon the fragmented pieces of my heart. You see, for me, church doesn't begin and end with the sermon on Sunday. It is the journaling in the morning, the scripture readings throughout the week, the fellowship at church on and off the sidewalks of a sanctuary. It is the permeating of a story that meanders its unyielding way through the stories of others as His and mine blend into the rich fragrance and taste of life. This day, my daughters led and I followed. Light snowflakes had turned to rain as we made our way toward the unfamiliar path of an enclosed building. Outside I noticed 2 or 3 large black men and a smaller Asian man. They walked toward us. They were strangers walking toward a common ground. Entering the side doors of an alley, I walked into a marketplace filled with young people. I told my daughters I would meet up with them as I decided what to eat. The large room was filled with people - their stories as unique and different as they appeared. Each food court brimming with the flavor of culture; beer and food and television and i-phones and music and laughter and the quiet rumble of people talking. The crowds left little room to sit. Life poured out in the unfolding of an experience. In techno color, my black and white opinions were shifting toward the inclusion of an idea. Having little opportunity for one of my old favorites, a bacon & cheese hamburger, the words, "gluten-free" buns, got my attention. I joined the line. I stood behind the same strangers I saw outside. One was lost in conversation with the cashier; I smiled. In waiting, I began to talk to the tall and handsome young black man that was about my daughter's age. Pretty soon, I learned he and his friends were from the East Coast and were showing their friend from Hong Kong parts of the United States that included a trip to Portland, Oregon. We talked about the storm that didn't happen and the cancelled Obama book tour that my daughters and I were going to attend. This opened the conversation further. We began to laugh and smile and tell stories. Later, having retrieved my food and beer order, I approached my new friends with a smile. I thanked them for the great talk and toasted their friendship as we all lifted our raised glass of beer. I wanted to continue into their story but instead wished them well as I found my daughters. Give us this day our daily bread. Matthew 6:11 My heart beamed with the feeling of inclusion. Would my daughters even understand the short interchange that had taken place with me and strangers moments before? Having finished my lunch, I offered to buy us dessert and as we talked with the person at the counter, he spontaneously and out of kindness gave us our order free - the owner had given him permission to honor patrons once in a while with gratitude. Jesus answered her, "if you knew the gift of God and who it is that asks you for a drink, you would have asked him and he would have given you living water." John 4:10 Time and time again, Jesus and the disciples wandered the lands in an opportunity to spread the good news of the gospel. They encountered people hungry for the word of God. As I live my life with the ups and downs that surround me, I dig deep into his word and the worship of his truth in order to live out my days in an unfolding story, His story. Would the rendering of the stories found in the Oscar nominated movies this year have more resonance than those that surround us? I am drawn into the stories around me too: the loss of a child, the loss of a relationship, the personal growth found in learning something new, the victory over a disease or oppression or the praise and rejoicing found in the birth of a child. It is showing up in the story of life and being changed by it that matters. I began with the word, award because it is the ones we don't receive or even the ones that aren't told that have ability to change us. The simple things: - showed up to an event even though you didn't want to (check) - felt really sick but went to school or work anyway (check) - cleaned up after a holiday meal even though you would rather watch tv (check) - talked to a new person on the metro, at a meeting or a party (check) - wrote a thank you card for a gift, dinner or a friendship (check) Or in the consistency of being available to be molded from the inside out and through the hands of faith and that our story develops into the likeness of Him. As I close this month's post that includes some of this year's Oscar nominated movies, there was one movie that left the audience in a quiet silence. It was such a peace-filled stillness of gratitude that I would be amiss not to mention it. The movie didn't talk about faith, even though the protagonist was a Christian, it wasn't a message about racism or sexism or violence or hatred even though it's message addressed the contrast to those things. It was a simple message ending a quiet gratitude. The movie, Won't you be my neighbor? is a challenge to change and be changed. Will you? Jesus longs to call you into a life with purpose. May your life leave you breathless and changed for having made the journey. Blessings to you, my friend, as your life unfolds. Go in peace. Inspiration: Song, Raise a Hallelujah by Bethel Music
Pictures purchased through Adobe; inspirational videos may be found on U-tube, scripture found in the bible and the stories are uniquely my own, told in my voice. Copyright 2019
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AuthorA fellow point guard for the faith; a writer, deep thinker, music loving, jeep blazing ... follower of Jesus. Archives
June 2019
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