The Week

Trevor is home! Phillip will be home tomorrow night. Both of them have to leave again Saturday, so with fewer people around to eat leftovers, Thanksgiving dinner will be scaled back this year. I bought a spiral-spliced ham, the smallest I could find, and a French silk pie at the Jewel bakery. I will make our customary deviled eggs along with several other side dishes. That's it. Thanksgiving morning we are going to worship with our Trinity-Tinley Park family and in the evening we are invited to the home of some dear friends. It should be a nice day.

The house sale is proceeding, although we still haven't nailed down a closing date. We do know that it will be in January. We would like something earlier; the buyers would like later. I'm sure we'll find a date we can all live with. God willing, we'll be in Oklahoma by the first of February. Six months apart is six months too long.

Several days ago I received terrible news about one of my oldest friends. As I understand it, on Monday of last week she fell off a six-foot ladder and lacerated her head. She was treated and sent home but within days was back in the ER, where she was ultimately diagnosed with necrotizing fasciitis. In the last four days she has had four surgeries (called "debridements") to remove necrotized (dead) tissue from her head, neck, shoulders, and chest. More debridements may be necessary. Right now her friends and family are praying for her survival, as 25-40% percent of people who contract this rare condition die from it, even with treatment. Those who survive face a long, painful recovery along with skin grafts and plastic surgery in the affected areas. My heart breaks for my friend and her family.

Here is a picture of me and Shelley from high school.

Here's a picture from about three years ago:

And here's an article about necrotizing fasciitis. If you are not familiar with this killer, please read and become informed now. It is rare, but no one is safe from it, and the best chance for surviving and avoiding the extensive surgical removal of diseased flesh or even limbs is to diagnose and treat it early and aggressively. The primary warning sign is pain that seems out of proportion for the injury. After her initial treatment my friend returned to the doctor with pain and swelling and was given pain medication and steroids and sent home. Her condition worsened and by the time she went back to the ER she was in septic shock with respiratory distress. I can't help wondering how much better her condition might be today if she had been properly diagnosed on her first return visit.

Trevor, Caitlin and I are going to see Catching Fire tomorrow. I also want to see The Book Thief. I am curious how that book is going to make the transition to screen, since I have a hard time envisioning Hollywood's managing to preserve Death as the narrator.

Caitlin is working on her college applications. As we did with Trevor, we are starting to get a "feeling" about one of the schools on her list. That school seems to have the same feeling about her, as the correspondence from their admissions office has kicked into high gear. It is so exciting to see my daughter dreaming about the next stage of her life. I am refusing to think about a day in August of 2014 when we will drop her in a dorm room and return to a house that will then be emptier by two. . . .

Then there's Evan. A little while ago he asked, "Mom, can you get me some socks?" I told him, "Evan, I think you can get your own socks." He replied, "OH, YEAH. I keep forgetting I'm ten years old!" And here I thought I was the one who was an expert at selective amnesia.

Premonition

Last night Caitlin and I watched Premonition. It was released in 2007 and starred Sandra Bullock. It is of the "psychological thriller" genre, revolving around a housewife who, upon her husband's death in an automobile accident, finds herself caught in an apparent time loop in which she is randomly bouncing around among the days immediately preceding and following her husband's death, but in no particular order. One day she wakes up and her husband is alive and eating breakfast in the kitchen. The next day, she stumbles down the stairs to find that once again he's dead and the living room is filled with mourners. She repeatedly finds herself bumping up against the effects of actions that she has apparently taken but can't remember (for example, discovering a prescription bottle from a psychiatrist that she visited but has no memory of). The result is intriguing, sort of a combination of Groundhog Day and Alfred Hitchcock, and I was quickly drawn in to trying to figure out what was going on and how it would all end.

It was interesting, then, to discover that the reviews of the movie upon its release were pretty poor. Not only was Bullock's performance criticized for being stiff and wooden (she was playing a woman who was in shock following her husband's death, for Pete's sake), but the movie was criticized for being illogical and hard to follow. I would agree that it is confusing. But I think the reviewers that criticize this aspect of it are missing the point. I took the story as a whole to be an allegory of the mind following a life-shattering event. Have you ever had something happen in your life that was so enormous and so pivotal that it seemed to make everything come to an immediate halt? Time seems to stop. And then as you try to come to terms with the event, you find yourself going back in time, reliving not only the event but the days leading up to it. You ask yourself whether you saw this thing coming and whether there is anything you could have done to prevent or change it. You replay things in your mind and pick up on details you hadn't noticed before. You remember and long for the days long before the event, when everything seemed to be normal. And then you find yourself jumping ahead in time, imagining what your life is going to be post-event: wondering how things are going to change and how you're going to manage under the new reality. Sometimes you wonder if you're living a dream--or a nightmare. This is very much how this movie struck me, and as a result, it rang completely true. Sometimes life just doesn't make sense.

One of the things most criticized in the reviews I read was the movie's ending. I don't want to spoil things for anyone who has not seen it, but I think the ending was stunning. For the entire story we see Sandra Bullock as the wife at various times before and after her husband's death. She is like a detective trying to piece together a puzzle, wondering if she might even be able to do something to prevent the terrible thing from taking place. When she discovers that on the day of his accident her husband was driving to meet a woman with whom he had decided to have an affair, she wonders if her husband--and her marriage--are worth saving. She visits a priest who tells her every day is a miracle and she needs to fight for the things she cares about. But it seems a moot point because the time warp she is stuck in won't allow her to wake up on the actual day of her husband's death. Finally, though, the needle skips out of the groove in which it has been stuck and she finds herself reliving the events of THAT day. Rushing to the scene of her husband's accident, she is metaphorically ready to face the truth, whatever that truth is, and move on with her life, wherever it may take her.  

We think of life as a linear thing. And it is. There's a beginning, a middle and an end. But for our brains it's not always that simple. We have a way of replaying things in our minds, tormenting ourselves with the "what if's," "maybe's," and "if only's," wondering whether if we look at a thing from this perspective or that one it will somehow look different. It's something that we need to do, I think, to process great grief or shock or change. But there comes a time when we need to jump off the hamster wheel and move on. We can run on that wheel all we want; it's not going to change the facts. Once we jump off, we are ready to quit reliving the past and start planning and hoping for the future.

I just wish it weren't so hard to make that leap.

Random

Sometimes my daughter and her friend like to be "random." Seeing as how I still seem to be experiencing major blogger's block, I've decided to take a page out of their playbook and post some random life stuff.

It has been a rather disjointed week for us as a family. My husband spent it at Kitsap Naval Base in Washington (state), leading the music (again) for a Doxology retreat. This one, as well as one at Shaw Air Force Base in North Carolina the week before, was especially for Lutheran chaplains. One of the highlights of the week for this naval officer's son was touring the USS John C. Stennis. Phillip is on the right in the burnt orange shirt.

He was also given an official Navy compass and coin as keepsakes. I am so glad he was able to be a part of this week.

While Phillip was in Washington, the children and I also headed west, although not quite so far! After a wonderful spring break with Trevor home, it was time for him to get back to the books. This time I took Caitlin and Evan with me and we spent an extra day visiting friends: two long 12-hour days of driving (thank goodness for cruise control, satellite radio, and mp3/DVD players!), but it was worth it. The drive there was especially challenging as I had terrible insomnia the night before (I seem to be experiencing another one of my periodic insomnia phases these days). I managed to keep myself going with extra coffee and, when things really got rough, a shot of Five Hour Energy. It is a vitamin/amino acid/caffeine drink that promises "no crash" (the fine print guarantees "no sugar crash" but says nothing about caffeine crashes). One shot has the equivalent of only one cup of coffee, but I suppose the caffeine hits your system much faster than with a cup of coffee since the drink can be downed in several swallows. The bottle says a "niacin rush" is normal due to increased blood flow near the skin. The only thing I noticed was a a little pressure in my ears, but who knows, maybe that was allergies or a cold coming on. Otherwise, I tolerated it well and had no jitters (but I have a pretty high caffeine tolerance) and no trouble getting to sleep that night. I was exhausted!

Unfortunately, I did return from the trip with a nasty cold and spent a couple of days in bed. Haven't been that sick in quite a while. I am feeling better now but wishing I could get those two lost days back! On the other hand, it was a good excuse to watch a couple of movies with Caitlin: Pirates of the Caribbean (first time ever) and Stranger Than Fiction (two completely different viewing experiences, both recommended, the second one particularly if you are a writer or avid reader).

In a couple of weeks I will be playing in the pit orchestra for a school production of Bye, Bye, Birdie. I have done a cursory read through the score but need to get to seriously practicing on it. It is technically not that hard but some of the numbers are in some tricky keys. Also need to file the personal taxes (at least the corporate ones are done--must have something to do with that March 15 deadline!). Yikes!

After several years of going without a lawn service, we have decided to enlist one this year. Our do-it-yourself approach is not eliciting the desired result. The construction project that tore up half of our back yard did not help matters. I expect this will be a "rebuilding" year where our lawn is concerned. I am also hoping to revisit a number of house projects this spring. Since making some major dining room progress a few months back, I have stalled where the house is concerned. Next up: finishing painting the kitchen. Wish me luck.

Nothing in the garden yet except for the chives that come back no matter what we do. :-) I am amazed by my friends who plant early enough that they are already harvesting by this time. We do well to get one round of growing done a year.

School has been hit-and-miss for the last few months. I guess Caitlin's studies have not suffered too much--she attends a homeschool geometry class and has regularly scheduled times for piano, voice, choir, and Tae Kwon Do. And her dad stays on top of the French instruction. She is also quite self-directed and is making her way through Apologia Physical Science. But her history/literature teacher (who shall remain nameless) has been AWOL for the past month. Meanwhile, Evan has been unschooled by default this winter. There has been some reading aloud and geography (via Highlights' Top Secret Adventures) and the occasional math or handwriting page, but it's all been rather intermittent, including the piano instruction (the piano teacher seems to have disappeared about the same time as that aforementioned literature teacher--no doubt, they are off somewhere together, probably up to no good).

Speaking of Tae Kwon Do, Caitlin passed her most recent test! Here she is breaking her board:

Test for High Brown Belt from Cheryl on Vimeo.

I finally finished The Hobbit! Yay, reading success! Now I have moved on to The Hunger Games. It is going much faster than Tolkien. Maybe I am learning to concentrate again or maybe it's just a much easier read. Or maybe both.

I mentioned in my last post my newly discovered passion for sushi. In recent weeks I have had some "cadillac" sushi and some mediocre sushi. The former is some of the best eating I have ever done in my life. Tomorrow we are going to take Caitlin and Evan here after Palm Sunday worship. I think Caitlin will love it--she has a very sophisticated palate. Evan, probably not so much (we did make sure they have a children's menu). Who knows, maybe sushi on Palm Sunday will become a new family tradition! :-)

I am feeling rather resigned about this election year. Not that I am resigned to losing. But whereas I did lots of blogging about the 2008 election, I have not felt motivated to do much this time around. Maybe that will change. But maybe not. I figure most of my readers already know what they think and probably don't need to hear my sophomoric political ramblings. And I am just also feeling rather fatalistic--as if what's going to happen is going to happen and my worrying and thinking and obsessing about it is not going to make any difference. Ora et labora.

This type of blog post doesn't need a conclusion, right?

With Boots and Singing

My husband visited a dying woman this week. She was a long-time member of our church, having belonged to our congregation for many years before we ever came. She loved music and encouraged my husband in his role as Cantor many times over the years. He relates her telling him on more than one occasion that one or more of her friends was complaining about some aspect of worship or music. She would smile at my husband, pat him on the arm, and say, "But don't worry; I set them straight."

A few days ago this saint of God went to meet her Maker. My husband was blessed to be the last visitor she had. He spent about 45 minutes with her in the nursing facility, talking to her and singing hymns ("Now Rest Beneath Night's Shadow" and "Abide With Me"), liturgy (the Nunc Dimittis), and psalmody (Psalm 121). He told me she was basically unconscious but at several times during his visit seemed to be struggling to say something and that when it came to the Doxology in the Nunc Dimittis she seemed to start singing, matching pitch a few times. Afterwards, she made a grand effort and briefly opened her eyes. Phillip got in front of her where she could see him and she tried valiantly for about half a minute to say something, whereupon she closed her eyes and then lay back very peacefully. My husband later found out that she died within 15 minutes of his departure.

This lady had struggled with her health and chronic pain for many years and her eyesight was failing (she had to use a magnifying glass with the large-print hymnal). She survived an MSRA infection about 10 years ago. She had lung cancer but she was in church as recently as two weeks ago. Her photo in the most recent church directory shows an impeccably groomed lady with a vibrant, clear-eyed, cheerful expression, tall posture, and elbows bent with chin elegantly balanced on the back of her gently folded hands. You would not know from her photo that she had been through so much.

My husband and I have seen a lot of people die or come close to death in the last few years. This is purely anecdotal, but we have been struck by a pattern in which it seems that those who continue to live to their fullest capacity, doing as much as their bodies allow them to do, are in the end taken from this world with a merciful quickness, whereas those who decide to quit this life early, in spirit at least, waiting for death to come, seem to linger on in their misery for a very long time. Last week my family and I watched a movie called Secondhand Lions. I bet many of you have seen it (we tend to be always behind the times in the movie department). It depicts two men who lived life to the full and who, when they died, died with their "boots on." They didn't stop. They didn't surrender. They went out still embracing all that life has to offer.

So did Marg. Oh, to leave this world as she did! She lived up until the very end, until she was absolutely made to stop. And then she ascended to the Father with His Word ringing in her ears. May each of us be likewise thankful for the days our Creator grants upon this earth and fortunate to depart those days in such a beautiful and blessed way.

Lifers of the World Unite!

It's that time of year: time to watch It's a Wonderful Life (or not, as the case may be). Some people love it and make it an annual tradition; others dismiss it as "Capra-Corn"--sappy, silly sentimentality. (There's a Facebook group called The Society of People Who Don't Get All Freaky About "It's a Wonderful Life." I'm not joining. Just call me a freak.☺)

Why do I like the movie so much? Mostly because of what it has to say about vocation and being thankful in all circumstances. The message is one I can always benefit from hearing.

Here's an interesting analysis from Joe Carter of the First Things blog that compares and contrasts the main character of Life, George Bailey, with the main character of Ayn Rand's The Fountainhead and concludes that the movie--its American icon status notwithstanding--is way more countercultural than the book in celebrating a character that chooses service over self-actualization:

"The Fountainhead of Bedford Falls"

(HT: Gene Veith)

Recommended

We watched The Singing Revolution last night. It's a documentary about the role that singing played in the non-violent liberation of Estonia from Soviet rule. Here's my previous post on the subject.

My Lutheran readers may also want to check out this review of the movie in Liturgy, Hymnody and Pulpit, where it is pointed out that the now sainted Rev. Dr. Kurt Marquart was born in Estonia.

The movie is a testament to the power of singing as well as the power of people to stand in the face of tyranny. I can't help but think Americans could learn a lot from this movie, things that may serve us well in the future. Problem is, we don't sing anymore in this country. At least, not like this. Instead, we have people sing to us. I suppose it's evidence of the importance and power of singing that we then turn some of our singers into near gods, looking to them for a sort of redemption. Then when they show themselves to be merely human, we are surprised.

Music can't save us. But when we make it our own it can nourish and fortify us in a way that not many other human endeaors can. May the Estonian people never lose the love for corporate singing that sustained and helped bring them out of the dark days of their oppression into the light of freedom. God bless them, and God bless all who thirst for freedom.

This & That

Blogging may be light for the next few days. A friend is coming to visit for the weekend. On the agenda is a trip to the fitness center and a soak in the whirpool; lunch at the Cheesecake Factory; some coffee and conversation; a drive through the Morton Arboretum; and, of course, church. Then on Monday my husband and I are sneaking away for an overnight to celebrate the anniversary that got lost in the mess that has been our life for the past month; our 16-year-old will be in charge at home. Good luck, honey! (We'll be in phone contact and less than 10 minutes from our house.)

I leave you, then, with this: if you are looking for something to do this weekend, go rent the movie Henry Poole Is Here. We saw it last weekend, and I highly recommend it. It's about a despondent young man who experiences a miracle in his back yard when the face of Christ appears in the stucco on the side of his house and people he knows start experiencing healing. To my confessional Lutheran friends: there is no decision theology here. The movie does not neatly wrap up with Henry deciding to believe and all being made well as a result (which would leave open the possibility that the change came from within). That's all I'll say, other than that there is a wonderful backyard water play scene that evokes baptism and that the movie is rated PG for a few bad words. There is a romantic storyline but there is no immoral behavior. It was refreshing.

Here's a trailer:

Disney Drops Narnia

Disney has dropped the Narnia series, citing logistical and budgetary concerns. Seems Prince Caspian, the second installment of the seven that were planned, did not do as well at the box office as The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. Never mind that it still turned over a $200 million profit. Apparently that's not good enough to move forward with the project.

Walden Media will shop around for a replacement for Disney. I hope they are successful. Our family enjoyed the first two films immensely and was looking forward to the third--Voyage of the Dawn Treader--with great anticipation.

I have nothing concrete on which to base this and I don't have time to go looking, but I can't help wondering if the Narnia series is being held to a different standard by those in power in Hollywood. It doesn't promote politically correct ideology, bash America, or preach tolerance for immorality, but instead is overflowing with family values and Christian symbolism. My gut tells me that a different standard would apply if Narnia were more in line with Hollywood's values.

Memorable Movie Line

We watched Miracle on 34th Street last night (hubby sat in his new chair!). Our children had never seen it. We all enjoyed the movie's innocent sweetness, but one thing I had forgotten is how funny it is. The line that made us all laugh out loud was this one:

"But . . . maybe he's only a little crazy, like painters or composers or . . . some of those men in Washington."

(I guess we enjoyed that line so much because we have two out of three of those categories living in this house!)

Click here for a few more memorable lines from this motion picture classic.

Popcorn, Anyone?

We rarely go to the movies, electing instead to wait until they come out on video (oops, I mean DVD). It's just too darned expensive anymore, and there's the difficulty of finding a babysitter, not to mention the time and energy. It's so much easier to just open up the Netflix queue. I can probably count on my two hands all the movies we have seen in the theater in the last 5 years: The Passion of the Christ, the first two Narnia installments, The Nativity Story, Expelled, Wall-E . . . (family, what am I leaving out?).

But here's one I'd be willing to lay down money for. It's called An American Carol, and according to the Internet Movie Database, it's about an "anti-American filmmaker [hmmm, I wonder who that could possibly be?] . . . out to abolish the July Fourth holiday . . . [he] is visited by three ghosts who try to show him the country's good sides."

The movie stars Kevin Farley (brother of comedian Chris Farley, who died last year), Kelsey Grammer, and Trace Adkins, to name a few. It was written and directed by David Zucker, who is already paying the price for having gone off the liberal Hollywood reservation. You can read more about it here.

Expelled: No Intelligence Allowed

I think for the most part my readers are familiar with this movie, but if you aren't, click here. And then run, don't walk, to your neighborhood theater and see it as soon as possible. We did so last night, and in spite of it going against every fiber of my being to pay $9.50 to see a movie, I am glad that I did, and I would do so again. The movie is worth every penny. and I think it is going to need all the help it can get to stay in the theaters more than a week, because the reviews are starting to come in and as one might predict, the scientific establishment and mainstream media have already panned it.

The thesis of the movie is that our institutions of higher learning have erected a wall between what they identify as "correct" and "incorrect" thinking about science and that anyone who dares to ask questions that don't subscribe to the establishment view is turned into a scientific outcast. The genius of the movie is that all it does is follow Ben Stein as he travels around the world asking people--all kinds of people, evolutionists and non-evolutionists alike--questions. Stein himself does not promote or push an agenda--he just puts people on camera and lets them speak, and he is careful to include both sides in their own words. It is ironic, then, to see the indignant and angry outcry emanating from the scientific community--an outcry which illustrates exactly the point that the movie is trying to make--that while our universities supposedly teach the freedom to ask questions, some questions are more legitimate than others (to paraphrase George Orwell).

And at its heart, freedom--not science or religion--is what Expelled is all about. (It is also neither a Christian movie--Ben Stein is Jewish--nor a creationist one, since contrary to what some think, creation and Intelligent Design are not necessarily compatible.) It begins with images of the building of the Berlin Wall, and that Wall becomes a symbol of the intellectual wall that has been erected in academia, stifling inquiry and open discussion. As a former college English teacher, I have personally experienced this wall in witnessing firsthand the intentional and organized attempt to use college English courses as a means of indoctrinating incoming freshmen into politically correct, postmodern, secular humanist thinking. Trying to teach English--just teach English--in that environment was difficult and disheartening. But Expelled left me with some hope that it may still be possible to wake people up to what is happening on our campuses and that perhaps there are still some principled, thinking professors out there who--especially if they band together and take strength from numbers--are willing to stand up for true freedom.

The movie concludes with images of ordinary people tearing down the Berlin Wall. The analogy is clear: it's time for America to tear down its own wall of politically correct thought and speech. One little way we can do that is to send a message by going to see this movie in huge, record-breaking numbers. To quote Mr. Stein . . . "Anyone?"

By the way, here are a few good reviews of this movie to balance the preponderance of negative ones that are out there.

Comfort Food
Answers in Genesis
Christianity Today

Reign Over Me

My husband and I watched quite a good movie last night: Reign Over Me (2007), starring Don Cheadle and Adam Sandler. It is the story of a man (Sandler) whose wife and children died on September 11, but it is not a 9/11 movie. Instead, it is a movie about friendship and family and hope. Sandler plays a dentist who as a result of the tragedy in his life has shut down emotionally and become a virtual hermit, closing himself off from everyone with whom he had a connection before losing his family. Then one day he runs into his former college roommate (Cheadle), a dentist and family man with some burgeoning life frustrations. Because this relationship pre-dates the tragedy and the Cheadle character never knew Sandler's family, Cheadle is cautiously allowed in. An old friendship is reignited and each of the men finds his life ultimately enriched--Sandler finally begins to face the pain he has tried so long to escape, and Cheadle rediscovers some aspects of himself that have long been dormant.

The film takes its name from the song "Love, Reign O'er Me" by The Who. It is definitely a film for adults, rated "R" for language and some sexual references.

Happy New Year!

Our New Year's Eve celebration was fairly low key. We attended worship at 5:00 p.m. and then came home for a supper of broiled salmon, glazed carrots and salad, with apple-cranberry pie for dessert (yes, I know, we seem to be eating rather well these days . . . but hey, if you can't splurge at Christmastime, when can you?). Then we settled in for a fun family movie: Cats & Dogs. (This movie especially resonates with us as beagle owners since in it dogs are the "good guys" and the hero is a beagle.) After the movie the old folks (uh, that would be my husband and I) turned in, and the younger set stayed up a while longer, but I have it on good authority that only one member of the family actually stayed awake to welcome in the new year (and that was not so much by design as the result of her current writing project).

Attendance at worship was down somewhat from the last few years, perhaps due to the snowstorm that blew in during the day, but it is discouraging nonetheless that the majority of our congregation did not choose to "ring" in the new year with Word and Sacrament, especially since the service time is early enough to avoid conflicts with later social engagements. There was a time--certainly when I was younger--that I would have looked at worship on New Year's Eve as something "good" to do before moving on to the main event of the evening. But now it seems to me an utter "no-brainer" that the best place to be on New Year's Eve is in my Father's house, receiving the gifts that He so freely and graciously gives to His own. What better way to mark the end of one year and the beginning of the next than to fix my eyes upon the One who is both the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end, the author and perfector of my very life and faith?

Speaking of beginnings and endings. one of the things that particularly struck me about my pastor's New Year's Eve sermon concerned the common view of time. As products of Western culture, we tend to see it linearly, in terms of past, present and future, and we also imagine it as something that is constantly, inexorably moving ahead. Thus, at this time of year we like to spend time looking both backward (as in all those end-of-year retrospectives) and forward (plans and task lists and New Year's resolutions). And that is all fine. But as Pastor pointed out, Christians also realize that God's time is not linear, but spiral in nature, as everything both past and future points to the one event that forever and irrevocably changed the course of human history: the incarnation, life and death of Jesus Christ. Whereas the created world certainly had a beginning and will someday have its end, Jesus Christ, the Word made flesh, is eternal as His Father is eternal, and as we rest in Him there is ultimately neither past nor future because we His children are a part of His eternal plan.

The epistle reading for New Year's Eve is one of my absolute favorites, on my short list of passages for which I can actually cite chapter and verse, and one of those that takes my breath away with its pure Gospel message (the emphasis is mine):

"If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all--how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things? Who will bring any charge against those whom God has chosen? It is God who justifies. Who is he that condemns? . . . Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? . . . No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord." (Romans 8:31ff)

Happy New Year.

Shenandoah

As a part of what seems our never-ending Civil War unit (I don't know why we can't seem to move beyond it), the children and I recently watched the movie Shenandoah (1965). It is the story of a Virginia widower and father who tries his best to stay out of the conflict but who is drawn in when his youngest son is taken prisoner by Union forces who mistake him as a Confederate soldier. The film was recommended to us by a family member who knew we were studying the Civil War, but after watching I don't think I would make the same recommendation. Not that it isn't a good movie--it features Jimmy Stewart as the patriarch of the family plus a young Katharine Ross as his daughter-in-law--but the Civil War setting is really not crucial to the story. Instead, the film is more of a family drama that just happens to take place against the backdrop of the Civil War. One of my favorite scenes depicts a suitor approaching Jimmy Stewart's character to ask for his daughter's hand in marriage. Stewart's character responds by asking why this young man wants to marry his daughter. The young man answers, "Because I love her" to which Stewart's character asks, "But do you like her?" What an excellent reminder that the basis for a successful marriage is not that feeling we so loosely call love but rather common ground, friendship, admiration, and respect.