Seven Pounds

A couple of days ago some friends and I went to see the movie Seven Pounds. The mystery of the film is part of what makes it, so I don't want to give anything away. But I will say this: whether you like it or not, it's sure to spark some great discussion.


I am intrigued by what I perceive to be an increase in films with deeply spiritual themes. There is most definitely a trend in Hollywood towards diving into some sort of spirituality.


Seven Pounds certainly takes that to a new level; one, I thought, was rather obvious.

But today I was discussing this film with some co-workers. The only other person who had seen it didn't really enjoy the film because she found it terribly sad and depressing. My reaction, while also very strong, was totally the opposite. "Yes, what happens is very sad, but it's so deeply redemptive," I reasoned.

And a strange thing happened then. I realized abruptly that though I was surrounded by people who had also grown up in the Bible Belt, our realities of spirituality in everyday life are vastly different. For their reaction was a collective: "What does that mean?"

In a moment of great insensitivity (go figure) I blurted: "Are you serious?"

"Yes. I have no idea what that means."

I thought for several moments until finally admitting I couldn't describe redemption as it related to the movie without giving away much of the plot. "You know," I flicked my wrist a bit dismissively, "it's the whole idea behind Jesus. We all sin, his death and resurrection paid our debt. Redemption. It's like someone else paying a debt that you owe. Only it's not a monetary debt, it's deeper, more valuable or life-changing..." I trailed off because my answer wasn't computing with my audience.

I can't stop considering this whole scene. At first I was appalled by what I felt was a lack of intelligence. Read a book, would be my advice to my little brother if he were to pull a conversation like this. But I'm wrong there. How is it that these people have grown up in the South, in church they say, and don't understand the basic idea of redemption? But then it's more personal-- how have I worked with these people for six months and not had a conversation that speaks to the deeper things in life?

Selfishly, I want to say it's because they're shallow. They like to party, get drunk, be hungover at work talking about partying and getting drunk etc etc... Realistically, I say I've failed them. Not because they have asked for me to speak deeply with them; far from it. But because I know that a large part of my purpose is to love people, to build relationships, and to lead them to the deep Living Water. Not to be a snotty bitch. And unfortunately, I play that role all too well.

Growth

I read past posts, even from a few months ago, and I realize I have grown. Or at the very least, changed. My opinions are more developed, my thoughts more advanced.

I have always been one to keep a journal because I know my thoughts become more clear when I write them out. But more, I love to go back and read my words months and years later to see where God has brought me. I amuse myself, in retrospect. The seeming immaturity of thought just one or two years ago gives me great hope for who I will become.

Other times, I am reminded of the passion and drive I had to pursue dreams that are still in my heart and that could very well become realities if I'll buckle down and get going. I don't want to regret things in life because I'm afraid to do them. I would much prefer to DO something and regret that than to avoid doing something and regret my lack of action.

To live and to love will always be dangerous
But it's better than playing it safe. ---Kendall Payne

A Conundrum

I know I am a writer. But I want to be an author.

The problem of what to write about is not really a problem at all, it's how to go about it.

They always say "write what you know." Who they are and what I know are good questions.

But I do know about my life and I know my doubts. I know that I like it when the sun shines into my face and the wind lifts my hair. I know that I love the company of my family and the company of my friends and that laughter may very well be the best sound I have ever heard. I know that my writing has two distinct styles, and they are reflective of my heart and it's sometimes contrasting positions. One style is what happens inside me. It is where my doubts live and it is where my thoughts go on and on, tumbling one over the other and then suddenly stopping to look out the window and feeling gratitude towards the stillness. The second style is sarcastic and snappy and a bit of a bitch, really, but very often hilarious, and always true. (Maybe exaggerated at moments. Hyperbole is a beautiful thing.)

And so the conundrum is this: I am both thoughtful and sassy and both have taught me equal truths about myself and the world and what God is working on. (To clarify: he's working on me. All the time, everyday, in every moment. And he's working on you. Are we working on ourselves? That digs a little deeper now, doesn't it?)

My pressing question is this: how do I write both together? Because I am both, together.

Maybe writing both together is not so important as being both together.

Love

I become deeply nostalgic at Christmastime. So much so, I often wonder if my thoughts are at all worth my attention; they are glimpses of the reality of my mind, through rose-colored glass.

This year, I am most nostalgic for the moments in my life of great clarity-- when I knew where I should be and what I should be doing. Those snippets have been rare, and short-lived. I constantly feel out of place, or in the wrong place. I long for clarity of vision and the feeling of security in its pursuit, even if its pursuit is the most dangerous of adventures.

I know: I am loved. My life is purposed. Everyone has a story, and mine is a unique one to tell.