Greatness

{faith, hope, love}

Little Manhattan (2005)

Nothing’s as big as your first love.

Rating: PG

Genre: Comedy-romance

Verdict: Can’t help falling for this one

The gist: Ten-year-old Gabe (Josh Hutcherson) has it all together.  He has his loving -albeit dysfunctional – parents Adam (Bradley Whitford) and Leslie (Cynthia Nixon), his friends, and his sports.  He’s living the good life.  Then Rosemary Telesco (Charlie Ray) walks into his karate class – and everything changes.  Sure, he’s known her since kindergarten, but suddenly he sees her with different eyes.  In a blink he feels the awe and misery that is first love.  And New York will never be the same …  

My take: I’ll be honest. Renting this movie was not my idea. After all, who wants to watch 11-year-olds get more action than you? EXACTLY. But from the moment the movie began, I was hooked.  Jennifer Flackett (writer) and Mark Levin (director) display a fine talent in capturing first love and all its complexities.  This film is much like a time machine – taking you back to those days of innocence.  It beautifully conveys the humor, exhilaration, and complete-and-utter despair of first love.  And suggests to those who have found true love: despite the hardship, disappointment, and sorrow it may bring, love is worth fighting for …

Sayin’ it like it is

Kirk Franklin came up in a conversation the other day.  I love him.  Sigh.  Seriously.  He’s a gifted singer/songwriter.  His songs come from the heart – a rarity at times in Christian music.  Seems too often nowadays spiritual songs are little more than regurgitation.  Everything we’ve heard before, with a little different twang.  Apparently, however, not everyone feels as I do (SHOCKING, I know).  The minute I mentioned Kirk Franklin, the face of the women turned grave.  “I was listening to Hero the other morning”, she whispered, “It’s good but … it’s so very depressing.”  She shook her head, emphasizing the pity of it all.  Depressing.  Huh.  As many times as I have listened to that CD, depression has never once come to mind.  Hope in the midst of despair, maybe.  But hope.  I can’t help but wonder if what she really has a problem with is the truthfulness.  Us Christians aren’t always comfortable with the truth.  How are you doing? one will ask.  Blessed! replies the other.  Yes, we are blessed; but here’s the thing, we live in a fallen world.  The simple fact remains, some times life is crap.  There’s pain and suffering, trials and disappointment.  Loved ones leave us, they let us down.  Dreams wither and die.  Our bodies fail us.  That’s life.  We cannot pretend the hardships of life are not there, or that they do not affect us.  Even David – a man after God’s own heart – admitted to the misery of life.  Only through acknowledging can we learn to live victorious.  As Kirk Franklin says in “Let it Go” … “Church taught me how to shout and how to speak in tongues; but preacher teach me how to live now that the tongue is done.”  Perhaps now, more than ever the church needs to rise up and allow for the true – to acknowledge that no, life is not always easy or fair; but we’re here for a reason. And we can live a righteous life, warts and all …

Memorial day

poppy_remember

You see them every year–veterans selling small paper poppies.  Every year fewer of us seem to take note–we simply haven’t the time.  We should take the time, however.  For poppies, you see, are rather amazing flowers.  Though they appear frail, they are quite valiant.  Their seeds can remain underground, sleeping, for years.  All it takes is a good churning of the soil to awaken them from their slumber.  And that’s exactly what happened on the fields of Northern France and Flanders during WWI.  Amid the death and destruction of the battlefield, red poppies began to bloom.  One day Lt. Col. John McCrae, a physician from Canada, looked out over the crimson blossoms and penned the following:

In Flanders fields the poppies blow; Between the crosses, row on row; That mark our place; and in the sky The larks, still bravely singing, fly; Scarce heard amid the guns below; We are the Dead.  Short days ago We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow, Loved and were loved; and now we lie In Flanders field…

McCrae died a few years later–joining those of whom he wrote, with a cross marking his place, in a sea of poppies, far from home.  But McCrae’s words continue to remind us of the countless men and women who have given their lives for freedom.  They paid the highest price.  The least we can do is be thankful for the sacrifice.  So this Memorial Day let us take the time.  Buy a poppy.  Say a prayer.  Remember.

Happy easter

 

“Now that same day two of them were going to a village called Emmaus, about seven miles from Jerusalem.  They were talking with each other about everything that had happened…” – Luke 24:13-14

There they are–two of Christ’s followers–trudging the old dirt road leading to Emmaus. Kicking pebbles here and there, they keep their arms folded, their eyes downcast. They talk in despairing voices. How could they have killed Jesus? Did they not hear his teachings? Did they not see the miracles? Why did God let it happen? His own son! With the Savior dead and buried, what hope does Israel have now? And Judas! Don’t even get me started on Judas!

They’re so into their discussion they don’t even see the stranger now walking beside them. “What are you talking about?” He asks. Can’t you just see the twinkle in His eye? They stop walking; but they just can’t bring themselves to look up. The question doesn’t even merit a response. Don’t you know? The stranger shrugs, shakes his head, inquires further, and the floodgates open. They tell it all. Every wretched detail–His name was Jesus, they begin. They tell of his signs and wonders–how despite all His great words and deeds, their own rulers handed Him over to be sentenced to death. Only three days earlier, they explain, He was crucified on an old wooden cross. He died and was buried, along with their hope for salvation. Then, to top it all off, the women went to His tomb, found it empty, and now claim He has risen from the dead.

All this and Jesus was right before their eyes. How could they have missed Him?

How could we?

We know He rose from the dead–we’ve read the scriptures, heard the sermons, and sang the songs. Yet when it comes down to the nitty-gritty of life, we often live as though He were dead. We focus on our despair, we try to fix things ourselves, we try to carry the burden alone. All this when the one who walked before us–the one who understands the burden of this world more than anyone–who laughed and cried, who felt the joy of friendship and the pang of betrayal, who felt misunderstood, alone, and abandoned–He is not dead. He is risen; and He walks right beside us.

Tell me, He says. All we have to do is look up.

Hershey

Imagine a boy, born to the rural lands of Pennsylvania.  With little formal education, he did what any teenager in his situation would do – he took up an apprenticeship.  But the print business was not his forte and he was quickly fired.  So he took up another apprenticeship – this time under the watchful eye of a candy maker.  Four years he studied his craft.  Even then he must have shown promise, for his mother’s family financed a venture all his own – a Pennsylvania candy company.  For six long years he worked at the business, but to no avail.  Forced to close, he moved out west to Denver.  There he took a position with a confectioner specializing in fresh milk caramels.  Before long he had moved to New York City, where he opened another candy store.  It failed too.  So off to Chicago he set, where he opened yet another candy company, only to find it a failure as well. 

You know what they say, third time’s a charm.  But what happens when it’s not so much?  What happens when everything you put your hand to fails; when friends and family begin to question your ability?  I mean, let’s be serious.  After awhile it gets a bit embarrassing.  Not to mention discouraging.  Do you give up? 

Not Milton Hershey.  Milton S. Hershey forged ahead.  He may have been nearing thirty, and nearly bankrupt, but that didn’t stop him.  With four losses under his belt, he tried once more for a win.  Returning to Lancaster, he opened the Lancaster Caramel Company.  This time he struck gold.  His fifth business was so successful, in 1900 he was able to sell it for a whopping one-million dollars.  All so he could focus on his true passion – chocolate.  Three years later he returned to the place of his birth to open a new chocolate factory.  And the rest, as they say, is history …

So next time we go to drown our defeat in a large vat of Hershey’s chocolate, let us think of the man behind the bar.  A man who refused to let his dream die, despite one setback after another.  A  man who learned from trial and error so that every man might be able to enjoy the smooth, creamy goodness of milk chocolate.  A man who used his wealth to build a thriving town, all because he believed his employees deserved better.  A man who thought up the “Great building compaign” to add beauty – and countless jobs – during The Great Depression.  A man who, though no children of his own, left an ever-growing legacy through schools and educational grants.  A man who proves to us still today, that hard work and perseverance have a funny way of turning life’s bitter disappointments to sweet success.