Swallow Darkness Whole

If you want to know the truth, it's been a rough year for me.  And my family.  Not because of huge, disastrous events and misfortunes.  It's nothing huge or traumatic, but without going into detail--for me, it's been a year of feeling mostly displaced and under strain.  No, it hasn't been all darkness and gloom; there have been bright spots.  Like the camp I worked at over the summer & the kids I befriended there.  My parents moved to the Seattle area which was sad for me, but great for them.  (And they are still inviting me to come and join them, so don't be shocked if I up & move to Washington...)  I guess it's been a mixed bag of a year, but right now I just feel sort of weighed down and frustrated with my life.

I don't say all this to complain, but to explain.  When I share the things that have brought a little bit of light and hope to my life, I want you to understand that they are like islands of relief in what sometimes feels like an onslaught of disappointment.  I am blessed to have such a great family & far-away friends, and I know it.  I also go to a fantastic church & women's group here.  These things help ease my melodramatic sense of stress.  But one other thing that brings relief and even release is music.

In particular, I've recently gotten into a band called Sleeping At Last.  I first heard their song "Umbrellas" on the Relevant podcast and was blown away.  It took me a while to explore their other music, but for a while they had their album up for free on noisetrade.com, and I downloaded it & fell in love with them.  The more I've heard, the more quickly they've become a new favorite band of mine.  Though they have a different sound from Switchfoot (my very fave, for those that didn't know!) they have the same poetic, honest quality to their lyrics.

Recently, Sleeping At Last launched a new project, called Yearbook.  Instead of doing another traditional 10-12 song album, working on the songs for a year, and then recording it & releasing it all at once, they have committed to writing and releasing three new songs a month for a whole year.  They've already successfully completed the first two months, October and November, and I highly recommend them.  Not only is Yearbook and innovative project, the guys in the band are also very vocal about their process and often tweet and update facebook on the status of the songs for each month.  For people like me, who splurged and signed up for the whole year (actually, it was a good deal, considering you get about three CD's worth of songs by the end!), it feels like I'm involved.

The reason I wanted to share about this project is not just because I find it creative, and a perfect example of what post-modern music making can look like.  I wanted to share because I have found SAL's songs to be very encouraging and healing over the last few months.  They have a folksy, acoustic sound, with lots of piano, strings, and yearning, soulful vocals.  But it's not only their sound--their lyrics acknowledge the brokenness and fragility of life, but speak to a an understanding of hope in something bigger, truer, greater, and deeper.  Though I'm a writer, I don't know if words can fully express how much I have needed these songs this year.  Because music has a power that goes beyond scientific explanation and quantification, the best I can do is say that their songs have poured into me, sifted through the chinks in my armor, and filled me with light and hope.  They are not songs to rock out to; they are often more like lullabies that soothe the soul the way a mother helps a fussy child finally fall asleep and rest.

Sleeping At Last's Ryan & Dan paint soft impressionist watercolors with their gentle melodies and poetic lyrics.  They know how to use shading, and they know how to capture light.  The pairing of their melodies with their words have brought tears to my eyes more than once.  Right now, I'm particularly enamored of their song "Emphasis" from "November":

‎"Life is a gorgeous, broken gift/ six billion pieces waiting to be fixed/ love letters that were never signed, sent to where we live;
The sweetest thing I've ever heard/ is that I don't have to have the answers/ just a little light to call my own;
Though it pales in comparison to the overarching shadows/ a speck of light... can reignite the sun/ and swallow darkness whole."

That's just the tip of the iceberg.  They have so many beautiful songs.  On their previous album, "Storyboards," they used film as an ongoing metaphor for life.  One of my favorite songs from it is "All This to Say":

"Before we were born
God gently told us the truth,
but understanding is something that stops
as our bodies bruise...

Layer by layer, the framework was formed
on an epic of paper:
we breathe to explore.
and fast-forward motion
will gracefully show
the flickering story
that all of our sketches unfold."

There are several really great songs from that album.  Though I haven't heard all of the songs from the previous album, "Keep No Score," the aforementioned "Umbrellas" took my breath away (and helped me flesh out a scene near the climactic end of one of my novels!); "Needle and Thread" is beautiful in every way and is something I can imagine singing as a lullaby:

“'You were a million years of work,'
Said God and His angels, with needle and thread.
They kissed your head and said,
'You’re a good kid and you make us proud.
So just give your best and the rest will come,
And we’ll see you soon.'

All the blood and all the sweat
That we invested to be loved
Follows us into our end,
Where we begin to understand

That maybe Hollywood was right:
When the credits have rolled and the tears have dried,
The answers that we have been dying to find
Are all pieced together and, somehow,
Made perfectly mine.

We are made of love,
And all the beauty stemming from it.
We are made of love,
And every fracture caused by the lack of love."

On my darker days, when all I see are obstacles and enemies, it does my heart immeasurable good to hear the gentle insistence of these two musicians who beautifully but firmly remind me that there is a God, and He is Love, and that is the truest thing in all the universe.  Suck a speck of light can reignite me, and if I can be reignited, so can others.  And together, maybe we can swallow the darkness whole.

Of Movies & Miracles

As I write this, I am in between my two jobs for the day and on my twelfth straight day of working.  Thankfully, I have the whole weekend off, but if I am loopy & have bad grammar in this post, at least you'll know why.  I just wanted to bring some extra attention to this really cool story that in the midst of all my other craziness I was able to be a part of.  

            A few years back, when I first moved to Pittsburgh, I was feeling a bit like I do now in Austin—out of place, not quite at home, really uncertain of my future.  I was living at home, and I was far, far away from the community I'd developed in college in Missouri.  I didn't know anyone in Pittsburgh besides my family, and while I kind of liked the church they attended, it wasn't the friendliest.  Somehow all my angst catalyzed me into doing some soul searching.  I began to really wrestle with my faith, which I alluded to in my previous post, & it was a time when seeds of change sown in earlier years began to sprout.  I started reading and thinking differently about my faith and church.  I didn't doubt God's existence as much as I wondered what He was really up to.  I had seen people get burned out, turned away, and screwed over by the church (and other Christian organizations).  And just as I was wrestling with how to deal with all this building frustration and discontent, I discovered I was not the only one feeling this way.

            There were several books I read at this time that impacted me and kept me from giving up on the church altogether, and one of them was a little paperback called "Blue Like Jazz."  I don't even remember exactly who recommended it to me, or how I came across it.  (Maybe my journals tell the story, but they're in a storage unit in Branson!  If you remember, leave a comment!)  All I remember is that I was reading it while I worked at an independent coffeeshop and when I finished, I felt so grateful to the author, Don Miller, for his gut-wrenching honesty, that I sat on my stool and wrote him a letter.  (I never sent it.  It's still in my journal.  In Missouri.)

            While some circles consider the book controversial, I know a lot of people have responded to the authenticity and frustration that Miller conveys in its pages.  One of the more moving and profound stories he tells centers around a local college where they have a festival that gets so wild, they shut down the campus and bring in medical units to deal with the drug abuse.  Don & his friends decide that would be a good weekend to spread the word that the campus also has a few Christians who attend.  He jokes with them about setting up a confessional, but his friends surprise him by taking it seriously:

            “Okay, you guys.” Tony gathered everybody’s attention.  “Here’s the catch…We are not actually going to accept confessions.”  We all looked at him in confusion.  He continued, “We are going to confess to them.  We are going to confess that, as followers of Jesus, we have not been very loving; we have been bitter, and for that we are very sorry.   We will apologize for the Crusades, we will apologize for televangelists, we will apologize for neglecting the poor and lonely, we will ask them to forgive us….We will tell people who come into the booth that Jesus loves them.”

            All of us sat there in silence because it was obvious that something beautiful and true had hit the table with a thud.

            That scene inspired director and musician Steve Taylor to make a movie based on “Blue Like Jazz.”  I found out about the project at the beginning of this year, when I read Miller’s latest book, “A Million Miles in a Thousand Years” (in which he tells a bit of the story-editing process.  It was an EXCELLENT book.).  I got all excited because I love Steve Taylor’s movie work, and I love Don Miller’s writing, and it seemed like such a great way to reach a broader audience with a message of honesty and hope.

            But a couple years after the script was done, funding for the project fell through, and a couple months ago Donald Miller announced on his blog that the movie was dead.  Even though I follow Don on Twitter, somehow I missed this news until I started seeing a mysterious hashtag: #savebluelikejazz.  Two guys who are fans of the book apparently felt as disheartened as I did that the movie wasn’t getting made, but they decided to do something about it.  They started a Kickstarter page to raise money, with a very “meager” (for a movie budget) of $125,000 in 20 days. 

            Word of mouth spread through social media and people began pledging $10, $25, $100, $300 to the project.  Within a week they had well over half their goal met.  Suddenly hope was sparked anew in Taylor and Miller.  They had all but given up in the movie, but thousands of people came together to help this movie get made.  If you know me, you know I’m pretty much broke, but I pledged to this, because I am very passionate about it.  There were some disparaging remarks made about couch potato Christians who only give to movies and ignore Africa (or something to that effect), but the truth is, I think it’s past time that stories like this get told theatrically.  I don’t think “Christian Movies” should become some sort of weird sub-genre that includes movies like “Facing the Giants” and “Fireproof.”  I think people like Taylor and Miller need to pave the way for Christians to tell good stories cinematically, with characters who genuinely wrestle with faith and aren’t crazy.

            I share this whole thing because I think it’s an amazing story about people coming together to support something really cool.  I feel like I’m a part of it, and not just because I’m getting a phone call any day now from Taylor or Miller.  I also share it because it’s encouraging to me on many levels.  Like I said, I hope projects like this pave the way for more stories to be told—stories that don’t have to fit neatly in the “Christian” genre.  (Like the stories my friends & I write…)  It also encourages me because I have to do some support raising over the next few months for Ireland, and my number isn’t *quite* as big as theirs was, but it is very high—more than I’ve probably made in my whole life.  It’s a scary number, but watching their goal get met (and surpassed!) so quickly reminded me that if God wants us to do something, we just have to ask and let Him work. 

Because we all have a story to tell...and an audience to tell it to.

Where is Phoebe?

Um, so, the other night I had a dream about someone reading and reviewing my first book, "Found Phoebe."  This person liked it immensely, which left me with a warm fuzzy long after the dream ended.  But when I got up, It got me thinking, whatever happened to Phoebe?  I haven't looked at her story in ages.  I've been so preoccupied with other projects, and oh, yeah, life issues, like moving and looking for jobs....

But I haven't given up on her story, not entirely.  I have a first draft of the second book nearly finished (though I haven't looked at it in several months!).  It's been so long since I invested in her story that I'm curious whether anyone else is still thinking of her.  Back when it first came out, I got a lot of questions about a sequel.  Lately I've been working so hard on my Dark Lightning books that I had to put Phoebe on the back burner, so to speak.

You guys are the readers, what do you think?  Should I keep working on Phoebe's stories?  Is there still interest in sequels?   Should I work to get "Found Phoebe" picked up by a publishing company, or try to market the version I have a bit more?

I'm open to any & all (constructive) thoughts.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/jmrichards/4561008472/

Avatar: Environmentalist Manifesto, or Retelling of the Gospel?

So, I realize I'm a bit late to be getting on the Avatar train, and as such, probably someone else has addressed this and potentially done a far better job than I will. Still, Story is kind of my life; and though I've been immersed in a great number of stories over the last two months, I feel that Avatar provides a unique opportunity to engage in some story analyzation. Which, if you know me, is one of my most favorite activities in the world.

I went to see Avatar yesterday with my parents, who came into to Austin from San Antonio to hang with me, since all three of us are STILL looking for jobs in Texas. (Curse you, economy!!)
Anyway, we debated on a few options, but went with Avatar, and I have to say, I really didn't know what I was in for. I knew that there were blue people, and the premise of humans using Avatars to communicate with the Na'vi. (Btw, let me insert this sidebar here, before I get too immersed: Navi is actually the Hebrew word for prophet [and one of about ten words I remember from my semester of intro to Biblical Hebrew courtesy of Dr. Bolger.]) But I wasn't quite prepared to have it invoke such strong reactions in me, even knowing that I tend to be a little more sensitive to stories than some people.

Afterward, I scrambled to make sense of why I got so drawn into the movie. Was it because it was visually stunning? Was it because it appealed to the greenie in me? Or was it something even a little deeper?

Eleven years ago this April, I attended a convocation at my college where the speaker used another James Cameron epic as an illustration that would change my life. He used the movie "Titanic" to explain the gospel, and the Gospel to make sense of the success of "Titanic." I had never heard anyone do anything like that before, and it shaped the way I forever looked at stories. Now I'm going to do the same thing for Avatar. (**Incidentally, if you haven't seen the movie and don't want the story spoiled, you should probably stop reading right here.**)


According to that speaker (John Eldredge), the gospel can be broken down as a four act play. I've heard of others using five and six acts, but I'm going to stick to JE's four for now:
Act One, Eternal love. Act Two, The Entrance of Evil. Act Three, The Battle for the Heart. Act Four, The Kingdom Restored.

Act One isn't just about Eden. It's about a world that was created out of the love and community of the Trinity. So for Avatar, it's not just about how Pandora echoes Eden. It's about the Na'vi and their connectedness. I don't want to overchiristianize a story that was probably never intended to be understood as a Christian story. But I think here are spiritual truths to be gleaned, as well as some amazing spiritual imagery.
On Pandora, the Na'vi care about each other, they care about the other creatures, and they care for their world. There's something about the way they live which hearkens back to the charge given Adam and Eve in the Garden.

Act Two was what really got me agitated. There's always a villain in our epic stories, because there's a villain woven into our own Story as well. Just as Satan tempted Eve and brought about the destruction of paradise, Pandora has it's villains also. And oh, how I hated them. Parker Selfridge was the calculating company man after the bottom line, and Colonel Miles Quaritch was the militant head of security bent on crushing any opposition. They both profess to be willing to try diplomacy first, but their tactics and habit of depersonalizing the Na'vi as "savages" and "blue monkeys" illustraated their true motives.
I really, truly hated Quartich in a way I've not hated a villain in a long time. Often bad guys are complex, manipulative, selfish, and even crazy; Quartich was simply evil. He was single-minded in his purpose and committed to his worldview that taking the mineral "unobtanium" was his job, his right, and took delight in destrying anything that got in his way. As such, he embodied a description of our Enemy as given to us by Jesus: "The thief comes only to steal, kill, and destroy." Yep, those were pretty much Quartich's objectives, and he enjoyed it.

Act Three is the battle. It's also the part of the story we're all in right now in our larger Story. In Avatar, it took Jake Sully sacrificing his place with the humans to rally the Na'vi. It was a people united to fight together. The battle was fierce and brutal. And perhaps you noticed as I did that like many epics, there was a tipping point. There's always a moment where everything looks lost for the good guys--heroes are dying or on the brink, and it looks like good will be defeated. It is only then, when everything is darkest, does the tide turn.

Act Four is the Kingdom Restored. In other words, the good guys win. Things go back to being good again. This is really a crucial point of any epic. Perhaps not all heroes live to see the kingdom restored. But their deaths were not in vain; much good comes of the battles they fought and the lives they gave. In Avatar, the mercenaries are sent packing and Pandora once again belongs to the Na'vi. And Jake, the hero, dies in his human form and is reborn as one of them.

I feel like I could draw so many more spiritual parallels from Avatar than environmental ones. I mean, yes, the message could be boiled down to "you can't take whatever you want, just because you want it," which is something every two year old ought to be taught. Though the religion of Pandora was denounced by the Vatican recently and certainly isn't Christianity, there were some interesting symbols. There was the Tree of Souls, of course--a holy tree to that people; and the way Jake's avatar was covered in the "seeds of Eywa" was akin to a baptism.

Let me end by saying this: "Avatar" is by no means a Christian film. That said, if you or someone you know enjoyed it, you can certainly draw spiritual parallels and truths from it. As Arthur holms said, "All truth is God's truth." If you have friends who need to hear (or be reminded of) the gospel and who like Avatar, don't be afraid to use the story to point to Christ, and our place in the larger Epic we're all in.

Blah!

Okay, honestly, I've had a lot more going on in my head these past few weeks than you would guess. I kept meaning to get it out, post it here, but I just haven't. I don't even have a really good excuse!!

Even now, though, I don't really have time to spill stuff that's been rattling around in my brain. Just know that I've been wrestling with things like:

• Vulnerability
• Love
• Honesty
• Patience
• Friendship
• Personality Types and Temperaments (try my quiz!)
  
• and the Themes embedded in the Harry Potter stories. (Did you see the latest movie? Wow! There was some powerful stuff going on there. That's all I'm saying for now.)
  

But see, my second favorite thing (well, possibly tied for first, even) to do with these issues, besides writing about them, is talking about them with other people. I love to hear what other people think about this kind of stuff.

So, if you have any thoughts, post 'em! No joke! I wanna know--we all wanna know--what you've been thinking about.

Holding out for a...

Well, Dear Readers, it's time you knew the truth about me. So I'm going to come clean.

I

am

a Geek.

It's true. According to the McGill definition, geekiness is generally described not by level of intellect or how much studying you do. Instead it is defined by the level of your obsession and passion for something. Thus, geekiness extends to many areas of study (i.e., movie geek, sports geek, video game geek, underwater basket weaving geek, etc.). Characteristics include (but are not limited to): frantic shrieking and/or hyperventilating when the object of your geekdom is mentioned, ridiculously belabored conversations regarding the geek-worthiness of the particular subject, and large amounts of trivia, factoids, lines and lyrics being stored in your memory for handy dispensing on the uneducated, un-geekified masses. [Correction: the consise McGill definition of a geek is: "unhealthily obsessed." Also, please Nerds, do not take offense; I count myself among you, too.  {Nerdfighters, too.}]

Now, there are many areas I would admit to geekdom (and many you could probably guess without straining a single brain cell), but I'm here today to discuss one in particular: Superheroes. The truth is, I had no idea how geeky I was when it comes to comic book heroes. By no means am I nerdy enough to be an expert (geekiness doesn't require you to know things like the first ever appearance of Spider-Man was in what comic book released on what date, or who the original inker for the Fantastic Four was--though it often helps). When I went to see X:III with a group of people my age, I was surprised at how few others were outraged by some of the movie's blatant character redirection (don't even get me started, unless you want to see geek-fury). And certainly, if I may be slightly sexist for a moment, none of the girls seemed all that interested in the heated discussion that followed. Nope. Just me. Is it odd that I am into comic books? You would think not, in this day and age; but I still am a bit of a rarity. Truthfully, I'm about as geeky about superheroes as I can be without surrendering my second X chromosome. (And if you're curious as to why more girls don't read comic books, pick one up some time. You'll find less cleavage in a Victoria's Secret catalogue. Seriously. Don't ask me why—you already know the answer. I just wish they could understand how unrealistic that is...and how unappealing to a lot of females.)

I grew up being fascinated by heroes—any old swashbuckler would do in a pinch, but it was those masked men who really caught my interest. The intrigue of the double identity drew me in, as well as the daring rescues and commitment to helping those in need. I used to love to watch the old black and white Zorro show on Disney. And when I was a little older, I watched cartoons every Saturday morning—Batman, X-Men, and Spider-Man. I loved them. Now that I'm a lot older, I still find myself drawn to the caped crusaders. And not just in a hero-worship-fantasy kind of way. I recently read a fantastic book called "Superheroes and Philosophy" which discussed a lot of the philosophical, theological, and moral motivations behind what superheroes do.

In case you're wondering, yes, I do know that superheroes don't really exist. But it's fun to think about what it would be like if they did. (I've even written a story about it.)I've been watching the Sci-fi show "Who Wants to be a Superhero?" hosted by Stan Lee, since it premiered a few weeks ago. I know, I know, it's reality, and generally I really hate reality TV. But this one at least has challenges that are interesting to me. I still don't totally like...well, any of the contestants left, really. With good reason, I think. If nothing else, this show has proven to me that most people are not cut out for a superhero's life. Can you take a guess why?

Most people think about how cool it would be to have superpowers—like being able to fly, or turn invisible, or blow up something just by staring at it. The truth is, it wouldn't be cool at all. (Okay, maybe a tiny bit.) But most of the time it would freak other people out, so you'd have to keep it to yourself. And then you'd have to decide: are you going to use your powers for others, or for you? That's the difference between a Superhero and a Supervillain. And if you stop to think about it, what's the fun, really, in always being at the beck and call of a helpless humanity? That's why the Spider-Man comics coined the famous phrase "With great power comes great responsibility." And all heroes seem to struggle with the weight of that responsibility—even though they want to do what is right. It's not easy to put everyone else first.

And that, I believe, is at the core of why I love superheroes so much. Not because of how cool they are. But because they represent a struggle that is central to another group of people—ones that actually do walk the earth among us: Christians. We, as followers of Christ, also wrestle with our responsibilities. And have been from the beginning. (Look it up.) We may want to do what is right, but so often our desire to help others, to reach out to the lost, gets swallowed up.

Superheroes aren’t just great role models for humanity; they’re great role models for Christians. (Okay, not all of them. The ones that top my list? Flawed as they are—Spider-Man, Batman, Superman, Rogue, Nightcrawler, and The Thing.) They show us what it’s like to serve others constantly, and to struggle between being others-centered or self-centered. There are lots of reasons to love superheroes: this is just one of my favorites.

Resurfacing

Hello. My name is Jessica, and I am a Movie Addict.


(This is the part where you say, “Hello, Jessica.”)


They say you have to admit a problem before you can fix it. The trouble is, I don’t know how motivated I am to “fix” it. Do I watch too much TV and too many movies? Yeah…probably. But I’m conflicted about whether that’s really such an awful thing. Certainly it has impacted my blogging time. *ahem!*

In the past month or so, I’ve been to the theater more times than was probably good for my bank account (because I often treated) and rented quite a few as well.

As I indicated in my last post, I saw Superman Returns. I loved it. I think it’s my favorite summer movie so far, and that’s including Pirates 2.

Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man’s Chest was good. I enjoyed it—but I didn’t leave the theater saying, “That was awesome!” or anything. And you know why? Because it’s the middle of a trilogy. Seriously. The second installment of any trilogy is notoriously darker and less beloved. Think Empire Strikes Back, Matrix Reloaded, and The Two Towers. They always leave at a somewhat bleak point; the story arc hasn’t resolved and so you don’t know how it’s going to end. Endings are key. It’s rare to like any story most of the way through but hate the ending.

I also saw The Devil Wears Prada. It was good. Not quite as funny as I’d sort of thought it’d be; but interesting none-the-less.

And I rented:

Yours, Mine & Ours—ehh. Take it or leave it. It’s family fluff. It was alright.

Just Friends—mostly stupid. A little funny, and a good ending, and I guess a good message, if there was one—but mostly stupid humor.

Just Like Heaven—way better than I thought it would be. Very cute, funny, and sweet. And a nice pairing of actors.

On a Clear Day—very good. This is a British film, set mainly in Scotland, so you know I like it. Good story, if a little choppy and disjointed in some places, but overall full of the importance of family, friendships, integrity, and purpose. Plus, Billy Boyd is frickin’ hilarious. I love him. *sigh.*

She’s the Man—if you don’t like Amanda Bynes, don’t bother. But I happen to find her very funny; and since the whole movie kind of hinges on whether or not you find her brand of improv, timing, expressions, and tone of voice funny…I really enjoyed it. I laugh at her if I even watch five minutes of “What I Like About You.” But also, it’s an interesting take on Shakespeare’s “Twelfth Night,” in the same way that 10 Things I Hate About You updated “Taming of the Shrew” and Clueless reinterpreted “Emma.”

Well, I guess that’s it…I did see most of Cellular on TV…that was pretty good. Intense. There’s probably something I’m forgetting, because this list doesn’t sound so impressive and time-consuming after all. Maybe it’s just that I’ve also been buying and re-watching too many movies, too.

I don’t know. I guess my feeling is that I “collect” good stories, and that includes movies just as it includes books. Sometimes you come across a good one, sometimes a stinker. Some people watch movies purely to be entertained. I look for meaning and depth and something that points to lager truths about who we are and what life is about. But that’s just me. And I like to laugh and be challenged in the process, if possible. Is it a waste of my time? What do you think?

______________________

Addendum:
I just saw Lady in the Water last night, and I had to blog about it.

I loved it.

A lot of people seem to want all of M. Night Shaymalan's movies to be just like Sixth sense...which is ridiculous. Now it may be partly because the ending was ruined for me...but Sixth Sense is my least favorite of his. My favorite was Signs. Until last night.

Lady in the Water was a perfect example of why I go to movies. It was beautiful; it had deep meanings and underlying themes. It spoke of purpose and love and redemption. I don't know what else to say. I was blown away by the movie. I don't want to rave too much and build it up too much...knowing that the critics are already griping about the movie. (So what if Night himself is in the movie? Is that so horrible? Matt Damon and Ben Affleck won a freakin' Academy Award for a movie they wrote and starred in. Geez. Give the guy a break. They just didn't like what happened to the movie critic in the story!)

Anyway--go see it, and if you disagree with me, tell me why. If you liked it, I'm also very open to discussion. I am already anticipating a long and probably geeky conversation with Brianne in which we both pull the movie to fibers analyzing it.

Arrividederci!

Victorious Female Delighted

So…what a week!
I started a NEW job this week…which means until the end of October, I am technically working three jobs. Which might explain why I have been lax of late in blogging…*sigh*…sorry.

The new job is an office position in the Administration Office for Pregnancy Care Centers. Ironically, it is located in a wing of the church that my dad also happens to work in. So that’s cool. I am happy to announce to those of you who have been following the “Retirement Saga” that I have given my notice to my bosses at the dentist’s office, and it went well. So as of the beginning of November…I’m done.

Now…for those of you who smiled at the title of my blog…yes, I was referring to the Lemony Snicket books, A Series of Unfortunate Events. I was ecstatic to find Book the Twelfth, The Penultimate Peril, at Wal-Mart the very day it came out. I finished it the other day; it was as good and bad as usual. Good, because Mr. “Snicket” (aka Daniel Handler) has a very funny way of writing. And bad, because terrible things really do happen to the Baudelaire orphans. But at least Lemony always warns us ahead of time. The next book will be the last one, and if I do not get a few answers (specifically as to why Mr. Snicket has dedicated his life to researching the events of the Baudelaires) I will be sorely disappointed.

And for those of you who don’t know anything about the books, VFD stands for the name of a secret organization in the stories…but it also stands for just about everything else and is used as a form of code. So I was signaling other volunteers by titling my post the way I did.

Also, I finally sent off my stuff to Red Lead…I will keep you updated as I hear from them to know when production will begin on the printing of “Found Phoebe.” It may take several months before it is available to purchase (and even then it may be pricey). Hopefully everything will go smoothly, and God will use this opportunity to open other doors, and let others read my work. (You can pray about that.)

I have realized recently that this is something I very much want to do with my life—write stories that touch people’s hearts and minds and waken them up to the truth about reality—and I am growing more passionate about it daily. I know is something that is in me to do…I just can’t see exactly where it is going to take me yet.

But when could anyone see the end of his or her own story? 

A Change of Clothes

Every Friday night I go to the Pittsburgh Chinese Church. For the past two years or so I’ve been teaching a class there—no, not English—a Bible class for Kindergarten to Second Graders. They’re good kids. (And, as you can tell, they really like it when I pull out my camera phone.)

The girls are really sweet and affectionate and always want to sit by me. They even went so far as to start bringing water bottles to class because I am notorious for bringing one every where I go.

The boys, on the other hand…I feel like I’m always telling them stop. Stop talking, stop running, stop hitting…you get the idea. It’s not that they’re bad: they’re just really energetic. And I just know that if I could keep their attention for more than thirty seconds, they might learn something. They are very smart. (In all fairness, I have to ask the girls to stop talking just as frequently. They just obey quicker.)

These boys are also really funny. I think some of them have secret aspirations for being stand-up comedians. They each like to try to crack everyone up. And more than once in a while, they end up cracking me up, too.

This week I was giving a lesson on telling the truth and how truth is important. For an illustration, I had a paper doll named “Joe.” On one side, Joe was frowning because he told his mom a lie. To emphasize his sad state, I colored his shirt blue and gray (not that I have anything against those colors; it’s just that sometimes my artsy, symbolic side gets carried away) and gave him green cords. On the other side, Joe is smiling because Jesus has set him free from sin. This time I colored his shirt bright yellow and orange—again, for emphasis—and put him in blue jeans.

Well, when I “freed” Joe (he was stuck in a “sin” envelope) I showed the class the happy side. I asked them why Joe was happy now.

And Andrew (who is in second grade) said: “Because he got a new shirt and new pants.”

Now Andrew is a very smart kid, and I know he knew the “right” answer. But I have to tell you, after a surprised pause, I burst out laughing.

“Well,” Andrew explained, “I like his new clothes better. I don’t really like green pants.” I laughed even harder. I had to borrow a scrap of paper from Joie, the girl next to me, so I could write it down that instant. It may not sound as funny now, but take my word for it. It’s just one of those things that happens in my class.

I shouldn’t be, but I’m always surprised when they come out with things like that. I’m not surprised when Andrew gives me the “Sunday School” answer; he goes to a Christian school and Sunday School and his parents are active in the church—in fact, Mandy, his mom, coordinates the Friday evening classes for the kids and teaches as well.

The truth is, though, if you ask kids a question, especially in a bible class they will either give you the “God” answer, or the most obvious answer. Most of my kids know the “Jesus” answers, so I usually try to get them to dig a little deeper and think a little more personally about it. I don’t know that I really succeed; they are, after all, only about six or seven.

I don’t get frustrated with them if they don’t use their reasoning skills. I just try to challenge them. But sometimes it’s nice to be reminded that not everything is deep. I mean, I’m big into symbolism and meaning, and I’m sure I could use the anecdote for a sermonette about how when we come to Christ, we do in a sense get change of clothes; we are told to put on things like humility and love like garments.

But that’s not what Andrew meant. He was speaking form that gut-level simplicity and honesty that somehow, I find myself admiring. The truth is, I wouldn’t really want to wear bright green pants, either. That’s probably why I found it so funny. He looked past my symbolism and got to what really mattered to him.

I don’t really want to go into the whole “child-like faith” thing. Even though I really believe it and it’s a big part of why I love working with kids, it’s become a bit cliché to bring that up when sharing a funny kid anecdote. That’s not really what this is about, anyway. It’s really about how funny kids are, and how refreshing their simplicity can be. It’s funny because we think we have the world in better perspective when we’re older and understand the “real world.”

I just think that sometimes, maybe it’s the other way around, and kids have the better perspective. Of course something more important happened to Joe than a change of clothes. But come on, now. Would you want to be wearing a blue and gray shirt with kelly green corduroy pants? Especially after such a special and spiritual experience like Joe’s? I didn’t think so.

"Christian" Fiction

I am an aspiring author. That’s what it says in my profile to the right. Basically it means that I really really like to write (hence, the blog that I pound away on for a very small audience) and that I hope one day to be published and recognized as an author. As opposed to a girl who works for a dentist and at a coffee shop and writes in her spare time.

I have actually written a book; I hope to be self-publishing it in the next couple of months. You can read a little more about it on my humble web page, listed under my links to the right. I’m not going to synopize it right here. But if “Found Phoebe” does get taken on by Red Lead Press, you can be assured that I will also add a link to where you can order it online.

A lot of people have asked me, “Is this a Christian book?” The answer is: yes and no. First of all, no, it is not an explicitly Christian book. By this I mean that Phoebe does not go to church, have a conversion experience, nor is there any mention of God. But at the same time, yes, it is a Christian book because I am a Christian, and I am the author. My worldviews are inherent in my writing, just as “The Lord of the Rings” was not an explicitly Christian book, either, yet is loved by many Christians because of the deep theological themes found there. I am not comparing myself to J.R.R. Tolkien; I am just using his work as an illustration. Although my book is not exactly an allegory, there are parallels and Christian themes in the story; furthermore, my book does not endorse any unscriptural activities.

But as a Christian Author, and even just as a Christian Philosopher in college, I have wrestled with this question: what makes something “Christian Art”? I actually took a whole class about it my senior year, thank you, Dr. Wilson.

I think as Christians, we have a tendency to separate ourselves so much from the mainstream culture that we have created our own little bubble of a sub-culture. There was a time in my life when I thought this was good, but I don’t any more. Part of the problem is that the mainstream market has become so liberal that there isn’t a lot of market for Christian religious art. To compensate, we created publishing houses and media companies that would produce Christian art. But to whom? Not to the world, who needs it the most. But to us, so that we could be surrounded only by what is good and theologically sound.

Yes, I know the verse in Philippians where Paul tells us what things we should think on. And I know we are called to be set apart, to live in the world , but not be of it, and certainly not to love the world or anything in it.

But if Christian musicians are just singing about God’s love to Christians, and Christian authors are just writing books about living life as a Christian and selling it only in Christian bookstores, how are we changing the world?

I am not ashamed that my book does not have the plan of salvation in it. I think God uses all things to draw men to him. I think he uses people who don’t even know Him to spread truth, without them even knowing it. I think His truth can be found in very unexpected places, because it is His world, and He is sovereign, and He has put truth in our hearts. I think you can find elements of the gospel everywhere: in movies like Braveheart and Star Wars, in shows like LOST and ALIAS, and in books like Susan Cooper’s “The Dark is Rising Sequence” and yes, dangit, even in the Harry Potter books.

I still haven’t finished “Heaven is Not My Home,” but I do agree with Dr. Paul Marshall that it is our responsibility as Christians to redeem the world, and to bring to light those truths we find. “Found Phoebe” is about fairies and fairy tales. Why? Because fairy tales (as John Eldredge and even C.S. Lewis would say) present a deep view of reality. They show us what is really going on. As does all effective art, Christian or not. 

ALIAS

I love Alias. I do. I just bought Season One this weekend—I got it previously viewed from Blockbuster so it was only $25!!! I love bargains!—and I finally watched the first three episodes last night. I really love it. And I think I’ve finally figured out why.

There are many reasons to like Alias. There is Sydney Bristow (played brilliantly by Jennifer Garner) for starters; I’m hard-pressed to think of any guys who don’t like her. Or girls, for that matter, though not quite in the same way—they save that for Michael Vaughn. There’s the action: Sydney is just awesome at kicking butt and not taking crap from anyone. I mean, talk about girl power. There are the very, very cool gadgets, usually provided by the very nerdy but nonetheless adorable and funny Marshall.

There is the music, from J.J. Abram’s opening theme, to the song selections for each episode, to the scoring by the brilliant Michael Giaccino (who also does the fantastic music for LOST). There are the plot lines: not too hard to follow if you keep up, and with enough twists and turn to leave you surprised. Often VERY surprised (Season Four finale, anyone?).

Then there are the characters. They are very complex and fascinating; real, three-dimensional, believable, and sometimes unpredictable. They are strong, smart, funny, snarky, ruthless; you either love or hate them—sometimes both in the same moment—but very rarely do you just not care about a character. They are human; they mess up, make mistakes, fight, and do their best to do what they think is right.

But I think the real reason I love it—along with thousands of other viewers—lies elsewhere. I think it has more to do with…escapism. Or just fantasy-ism in general. I’m talking about a preoccupation with spies that goes back almost to childhood for me. It started with mysteries and sleuths in grade school, like Nancy Drew and Trixie Belden and their ability to sneak around and dig up clues and pay attention to small details. It progressed to shows in my pre and early teen years like Remington Steele, Scarecrow and Mrs. King, and my favorites Mission: Impossible and MacGyver (*sigh* who deserves his own blog of tribute). Really, with a background like that, it was only a matter of time before I fell for Alias.

It’s perfect, really. For one whole hour every week, I get to be a spy. I get to vicariously live out my secret espionage desires. I get to see the world, kick butt, save lives, and the best part is, I come home without a scratch. Or any bruises. Or the fear of retaliation. Living out as Sydney, I get to imagine what it’s like to be an important part of a critical and covert organization.

I get to pretend for a little while that I have a vital role to play, a job that no one else can do as well as me, a role that no one else can fill, a job that could very well save the world. I get to go behind enemy lines, sneak into their base camp, and steal back valuable items and information, even rescue people.

John Eldredge would probably say that the reason I like Alias so much is that it is a picture of me and my role in the Larger Story—the Story we all are living out every day. He doesn’t normally write about spy stuff—he’s more into epics, fairytales, and war-ridden dramas—so I’m just speculating here. But all that stuff about being behind enemy lines, and going undercover, having a critical role to play—that stuff is so Eldredge.

In his book “Waking the Dead” (in my favorites list, I recommend it to everyone) he outlines three Eternal Truths that we find in stories we love.

1. Things are not what they seem.
2. This is a world at war.
3. You have a crucial role to play.

I can see all of these applying to Alias. Things are not what they seem. No one is what he or she seems. Sydney is not just another pretty face. Her father is not just an aloof airplane parts salesman. Even Vaughn, we learn, is not really Michael Vaughn. (Whatever that means, J.J.!!) SD-6 is not part of the CIA. As far as being at war goes, there are always bad guys to fight, some more prevalent than others. And Sydney, as well as the other main characters like Jack, Vaughn and Marshall all absolutely have a crucial role to play.

And so it relates to us; this is why we love it. Because we know that in our world, also, nothing is ever quite what it seems at first glance. There is conflict going on everyday with everyone. And whether we feel it or not, we each do have an important role to play, something designed just for us in all our uniqueness. Maybe it’s not as dramatic or dangerous as what Sydney does, but…since nothing is what it seems…then again, maybe it is.

JOBS

What is it about jobs that are so stressful? Seriously. Even the people I know who actually somewhat enjoy their jobs still come home at the end of the day exhausted and glad to be away from work. There are all kind of theories out there about this.

My dad describes it as the traffic light principle, and I don’t know who he got that from. You know, some jobs have a lot of red lights, things you just hate to do and aren’t that good at, some have a lot of yellows, things you can do but don’t enjoy, and a few greens, which are things you love to do and are good at.

The Christian theory is usually that because we are living in the world after the Fall, we all share in the curse that was given to Adam: that his work would be full of labor and futility. But not all Christians agree on what our “job” or our “purpose” here on earth really is. I’m reading a book right now called “Heaven is Not My Home” by Paul Marshall. The jury’s out, but it is an interesting look at the idea that our job is the same as it was in genesis, to rule and take care of the earth.

My current job is nowhere near that fulfilling. It’s what my dad would call a “red-light” job, full of things I don’t really enjoy. It’s not that they’re hard; it’s just boring. I’ve literally been falling asleep at my desk. And if my boss happens to read this while he’s in recovery from surgery, well, I’m sorry. But you know, Doc, you can’t really blame me since neither you nor the Mrs. exactly enjoy your jobs, either.

I’ve actually noticed that environment makes a huge difference to me in whether or not I enjoy my job. If I get along with my boss and co-workers and/or customers, I can handle a lot of tasks I wouldn’t normally care to try. (Also, I’ll do just about any chore if I can have my music playing.) But if I feel dumped on or boxed in it really stresses me out. I took one of those IFES type tests and the work situation it described as being not a good fit for me was basically my first job out of college.

My résumé reads like a hall of shame; part-time jobs I had for a little while until I couldn’t take it anymore or I was lucky enough to be moving on. I worked in the Cafeteria in college, and the dish room at six am was pretty torturous. When I took a year off between high school and college, I actually worked in a factory. It was horrible. I’ve never felt so much like a robot. The summer after college I worked at a theme park—which sounds fun in theory. But I worked the concessions stands. Outside. I had to wear the long-sleeved dresses, bloomers, and stockings of the 1800’s settlers in the highly humid Missouri summer. All day I got asked, “Aren’t you hot?” by people walking around in bathing suits, tank tops, and shorts. After college I worked at a couple preschools—the Montessori kind. I worked with some great kids and some neat ladies, but I just couldn’t handle all the structure they imposed on the kids. Plus, my job was usually more about keeping the room clean rather than interacting with and teaching the kids. Even now, my job is mostly about cleaning. I don’t have anything against cleanliness; it’s just not what I want to do for a living.

So far in my short life I have only had one job I truly loved, and that was in College. I worked in the Community Service department for three out of four years. It was great. I went into elementary schools, latchkey programs, boys and girls clubs, nursing homes, and a food pantry. I’m not sure if I loved it because it was highly relational, because I had a good balance of routine and variety, because I felt like I was doing something worthwhile, or a combination of all three.

I just applied for a job in a coffee shop this week. I’ve been looking around for another job for month, in part because my boss keeps talking about retiring. Just because he can’t make up his mind doesn’t mean I should be left without a job. I’ve applied at a library, a bookstore, and with a couple of ministries. Nothing happened. I keep asking God what it is he intends to do with me and the gifts he’s given me. Now I’m going to be going in for training at the coffee shop, Café Latte, next week. Did I mention I don’t even drink coffee? I guess that’s not a big deal. I’m not thrilled about the prospects of early mornings and impatient consumers, but it might not be so bad. (I always think that at the beginning of a job. Always.)

What I really want to be when I grow up is a writer. There are a lot of other things I’d like to do: teach, play in a band, record a song, study in another country, make a movie….but I really love to write. I’ve written two books so far. I hope to eventually get a website up about them, but I still might blog about them sometime. I’m also hoping to self-publish one of them in the near future.

I just wish that my sense of self and feelings of accomplishment weren’t so wrapped up in what I’m doing for a living. I mean, I have to pay the bills; that’s a given. But I can have dreams, can’t I? We all graduate from college bright eyed and hoping to land our dream job right away—or at least a job in our field. Some of us do. But I have very few friends who are really fulfilled in their jobs. I’m not just writing this to say work sucks or complain about the economy. I’m just wondering, like I’m sure others are, what went wrong? Is this as good as it gets?

I know deep down it’s not, and I’m grateful that I decided to reread John Eldredge’s “The Journey of Desire.” I love his books so much I will save it for a separate blog. He writes of how we were meant for so much more…but that it’s just possible we won’t get to fulfill it in this life. I’ve heard the saying “Life is not a Dress Rehearsal,” but Eldredge says it actually is. When Heaven and Earth are renewed and we are restored, maybe we will get to do all the things we always wanted to and were meant to—but without the frustration a failure. If you’ve ever been uninspired by the idea of what awaits us in heaven, go read the book right now. Literally. Stop reading this and go find a copy.

What I really want to do is write like that: to capture people’s hearts and minds; to show the truth through a story; to awaken people to the longing inside them; to pull back the curtain on the cosmic drama we are all meant to be a part of. Is it a core part of my being? Is it what I am meant to do? Is it my job? I guess we’ll see.