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Daughter of the King

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Daughter of the King

Monthly Archives: May 2010

The Stranger

20 Thursday May 2010

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Christ, church, faith, friendship, gay, GLBT, homorsexuality, loss, pain, prayer, The Marin Foundation

The other day I got a message: pray for my friend. So I did. She has some friends who are struggling with homosexuality. I thought, okay.

The core of me pulsed like the heartbeat that moves into your thumb. Something about this was specifically for me. I had spent some time following a friend who was following the Lord. His message and passion were tied up in a foundation, The Marin Foundation, that seeks to elevate the conversation between the gay and church communities. Learning about all the deep-seated hate here had sparked something in me. Something righteous, I think. There’s healing here, I learned. And I’m moving ashamedly out from ignorance, now. So when this message came, I was feeling heavy as hell.

I prayed about this stranger like I was a third grader again and the world didn’t extend far beyond the playground and this friend of my friend’s was my very best friend in the whole wide world. But also not like a third grader, not like Jesus, bless Mommy and Daddy and my puppy, Spike, more like I was caring deeply for the condition of her soul and for her dear friends, these mysterious brothers and sisters in our grand body of Christ. The depth of me was unknowable, even to me. Especially to me. I was praying like an adult–like someone who knew this stranger.

I prayed the principles that Andy has drawn from Scripture in his book; I prayed the practical applications. Will she love tangibly these friends of hers who are struggling? Draw caring mentors and Biblical support systems in swarms around this sexual confusion. Bring truth. Make bold folks that don’t say it’s alright to give in. Can You let no one walk away. Everyone always wants to walk away.

She wasn’t a stranger, this friend I kneeled for more than a time or two–this girl no one knew. I had been on my knees, crushing divots into rough crevice of carpeting, on two specific nights and in-between for my sister, but not just any sister, not just some stranger. This stranger walked with me when I hardly knew Christ, walked through my shame with me, came out and healed with me, lived this life in sorrow and in joy with me. And walked away from me. Or I from her. And still, my heart burns, Let no one walk away.

Book Log: April 2010

16 Sunday May 2010

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Answers to Prayer, Eastham, frankenstein, Gutkind, Guys Like Girls Who, Keep It Real, Larsson, movie, Mueller, rating, review, Shelley, The Girl With The Dragon Stattoo

Frankenstein Mary Shelley     Frankenstein (Barnes & Noble Classics Series) by Mary Shelley: Book Cover
Through various exposures to pop culture adaptations, I thought all this time that the ugly monster in this story was “Frankenstein”! Why didn’t anyone ever tell me? The boy is Frankenstein! Victor Frankenstein, a young student obsessed with natural science and the creation of life. The monster never has a name throughout the entire story. I couldn’t believe it.

Besides my personal revelation, the story wasn’t bad for being ancient. The protagonist, this creation-obsessed boy, is a bit of a blockhead. I’m disappointed in the way Shelley doesn’t allow him a deep ability to critically think. The sympathy I’m made to feel for the monster when he’s able to narrate a portion of his story is crafted superbly well. The themes of the nature of evil, the responsibility of the creator to his created, loneliness, guilt, and madness are well raised, though some are better developed than others. Great book for discussion.  And if you’re my friend, Sarah, you got a B+ on your paper based on the weak women of this book. Way to go!

The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo Stieg Larsson     The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo (Millennium Trilogy Series #1) by Stieg Larsson: Book Cover
This book is the foundation for book discussion groups all over the nation and Larsson is pumping out a new book as we speak, but I read nearly fifty pages and even that was painfully boring. I always read writing magazines about introducing the protagonist early, yet I never met the supposed girl with the dragon tattoo. I only followed some boring men who talked about money laundering plots and business criminals. None of that piqued my interest.  And though I suspected it would set up the rest of the story, I just couldn’t bring myself to wait that long. Maybe I’ll try again, but with all the captivating books out there, why force down a tough one? It’s like eating stewed beets and rotten lettuce leaves when there’s roasted peppers and steak. Sort of.

Keep It Real Lee Gutkind     Keep It Real by Lee Gutkind: Book Cover
A collection from various authors in the creative non-fiction field which gives tips and tricks for writing quality non-fiction. The common questions about degrees of truth, dialogue, and research are all covered in less than three-page segments. Some more unique topics: interviewing, lyric prose, and queries are investigated as well. Almost like a how-to guide for advanced students of the genre.

Answers to Prayer George Mueller     Answers to Prayer (Moody Classics Series) by Mueller: Book Cover
Excerpts from George Mueller’s works and biographies on him that encompass the kind of man he was and the kind of life he lived. His basic mantra was that we, as Christ-ones, don’t ask the Lord for things as purely as we should. We, instead, rely heavily on the resources that surround us and this diminishes our unadulterated faith in God’s ability and willingness to provide. So his commitment is to ask only of the Lord to fulfill his needs, so that it might increase his faith. He does, and the Lord provides, and it is pretty amazing to read.

Guys Like Girls Who… Chad Eastham     Guys Like Girls Who . . . by Chad Eastham: Book Cover
Why am I reading a book written for teenage girls? There are a lot of reasons, not the least of which include the fact that my sister is one, I’ve led youth group a number of times, taught at a youth camp, and am coming to find out that this group of human…I don’t quite understand. This guy, Chad, he magically gets it! It’s fantastic. He speaks with clarity and boldness to teenage girls of all mindsets about how they structure their lives around the pursuit of dudes and that needs to change. He tells them that they have value, and it begins in the eyes of God; that they need to be realistic, healthy, balanced, and normal; that it’s crucial to communicate well, be able to say NO. And those are basically just the chapter titles! He explains through anecdotes, stories from real teens, and straightforward explanations, HOW to accomplish these things. I really believe that if a teenage gal takes a serious read of this book, it could change her unnecessarily drama-filled life. I even learned a handful of solid, Biblical principles, or was reminded of them, at least.

My name is Bob and I’m an alcoholic.

13 Thursday May 2010

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AA, absolute truth, Alcoholics Anonymous, alcoholism, divorce, drinking, family, higher power, Jesus Christ, pluralism, truth

Hi, there.  My name is Bob and I’m an alcoholic.

That’s my dad.  And I never really like it when he says that—that he’s an alcoholic.  I mean, he is, they all are forever, I guess.  That’s what he says.  But he hasn’t really been since I was a little girl and we lived in the old house with the night when he came home drunk and the yelling that woke me from bed in my nightgown and Mom that made him sleep in the car in the garage while my little brother and I sat behind her on the stairs, sniffling.

I’m thankful to my higher power, which I choose to call God.

That’s what Dad says at the meetings when it’s his turn to talk.  He told me today and I was silent for a long time after.  I knew that people said that kind of stuff; I know all about higher power this and that from AA.  I just never knew that’s what Dad said, too.

Him and Mom went splitsville in their marriage two years or so ago and it was a surprise even though it wasn’t a surprise at all.  They’d always been off, because they’re both a little off—the way we’re all a little off.  Dad moved out when I was living in Colorado.  I drove through the mountains to the public library one day while Dad told me about his apartment-condo-y place.  He was staying there all alone and Mom was at home.  I remember the road, the phone to my ear, and it was all surreal. 

When Mom and Dad got righted again, and we all lived in the same shared home, I thought they were figuring out the Jesus thing, too.  I thought we were past ethereal pluralism and new spirituality, where all this higher power help lives.  When red balloons are red, they are red for everyone, even if folks want to see them as blue or green or aquamarine.  A place where true things are always true and we’re bold enough to be exclusive because life has consequences.

I’m just as broken, just as addicted, just as absurdly perfect of a candidate for the hundreds of thousands of AA meetings across the country this Thursday afternoon.  And my higher power is the King of Kings, the Savior of the world.  And not one of my twelve steps is worth a damn without Him.

Boring Stories

12 Wednesday May 2010

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change, childhood, Christianity, church, friends, God, gospel, growing up, Jesus, life, love, Metro South Church, salvation, Shrink the Church, story, Unite

For all my friends who find their stories boring: research shows that they are not!

For your pastor dad using you in his sermons.  For how you learned to walk between church pews, I’m thankful.  For Krista, my new Unite friend and her church-knowledge of Jesus made real and alive when she was sick and bedridden.  For your homeschooling that I slowly understand and always used to judge, I am thankful. For your internship hundreds of miles from here, away from everything you know.  For the youth camp, the musician, the act of love that made the person and work of Jesus Christ “click” for you – I am so thankful.

Like they say about dumb quesions, there are no boring stories.

Movie Log: April 2010

12 Wednesday May 2010

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Abigail Breslin, Adam, American Beauty, Asperger's, autism, Betty White, Disney, Drew Barrymore, Elf, Ellen Page, Golden Girls, Jodi Picoult, Juliette Lewis, Kevin Spacey, Leonardo DiCaprio, Lester Burnham, Man On Wire, movie, My Sister's Keeper, Pixar, rating, review, Ryan Reynolds, Sam Mendes, Sandra Bullock, The Proposal, UP, Whip It

My Sister’s Keeper
Abigail Breslin plays the youngest sister in a family of three who narrates the story of how she came to be a genetically engineered donor-sibling for her sister, who was dying of leukemia. The movie is an adaptation of a popular novel by best-selling author, Jodi Picoult that raises questions about family, love, death, hope, and letting-go. The heartbreaking story, through the eyes of an eleven-year old in an unimaginable position is captivating. In the diversity of this family in tragedy, you’re sure to find a character you empathize with, even if you disagree with some of things they do. There were a few times where the plot strayed from the big idea to portray teen angst with forced effort. Otherwise, a successful family drama.

American Beauty
The themes are all over the board on this one: facades in this Western culture which consumes us, pursuing passions, everything American, materialism, beauty, art, sexual desire and it’s worth.  That’s the short list.  If there’s something redeeming, it’s hidden in that which I already love about art culture: that artists are folks whose lives are spent “searching for truth and beauty” in things.  They find, live in it, create it. 

To this end, I don’t think this film succeeds.  I thought I enjoyed Sam Mendes’ work (Away We Go, The Kite Runner, Things We Lost In The Fire) but he’s most often the producer, not the director.  Kevin Spacey is captivating.  When I hear his name on the roll call for a film, my ears always perk up.  His character, Lester Burnham, so deeply disturbs me with the way he carelessly and casually lives out his mid-life crisis that other attempts in the movie at beauty are shadowed and gray.  It’s a tragedy, really.  My favorite character is the next-door neighbor, Ricky, a prolific drug dealer whose father disciplines him harshly and loses it when he suspects that his son is gay.  I find Ricky to be the least disturbing and most hopeful pursuit of beauty in a movie that claims to search for such a thing.  Overall, beauty is not found here.

Man on Wire
A documentary about a French tightrope walker whose life dream became conquering the space between New York’s twin towers. The film documents how he claims his dream: the plot that was attempted, abandoned, re-planned, plotted, disguised, by strokes of luck – pulled off. And how the conquering of his dream destroyed all the relationships he had spent his entire life constructing. The details of his tightrope walking were unique as far as discipline and fascinating as far as skill, but the overall take-away of the film was a heartbreaking reality of ignorant and selfish pursuit disguised as dreaming.

Up
The latest Disney/Pixar about an old man journeying to acheive his late wife’s dream and running into all sorts of hullabaloo en route. Oh, and by the way, he has his house attached to his back with a garden hose, and it’s floating in the air, suspended by about a trillion helium balloons. Yep. The film was quirky enough to stay interesting. There’s an entertaining boy scout character who functions as a tag-a-long to the old man’s journey and provides for surprising insight, opening up the old man’s one-track mind. Cute flick, entertaining hour and howevermany minutes.

The Proposal
Romantic comedies are not my favorite. But I got sucked in. Ryan Reynolds seems so innocent; how can he be pathetic? And I really enjoy Sandra Bullock. So, foolishly, I had high hopes. I’ll start at the end: don’t expect anything better than every horrible chick flick you’ve ever seen. These are the most unimaginative, sappy, predictable endings of any movie genre. Yech. But on the way to the horrible ending, there were some legitimately funny parts. The entire flick is based on a fake marriage between an aspiring editor (Reynolds) and his about-to-be-an-illegal-immigrant-boss (Bullock). Reynolds’ Mom is the Mom from Elf; she was cute then and she is completely lovable in this flick, too. The Grandma is Betty White from Golden Girls, and she’s a straight hoot. Worth one good belly laugh, and a buncha genuine chuckles inbetween.

Whip It
It took me until the last scene of the movie to remember that the snarky roller chick from the opposing team was Juliette Lewis from Basketball Diaries and What’s Easting Gilbert Grape (these were my I love Leo days). Couldn’t figure that out. Ellen Page is a real gem. She fills out her role with a fiery, independent flare. Her character has respect for her out-of-touch mother and a deep desire to pursue her own interests, of which roller derby becomes one. The comedic moments are many, with a whole host of quotable lines and memorable characters. Plus, as an added bonus, there’s a surprising amount of solid roller derby footage, and a decent explanation of the rules. I actually felt like I understood the emerging sport. Way to go, Drew Barrymore, who I usually don’t dig.

Adam
A charming story of a couple, a brilliant young man with Asperger’s syndrome and a his new neighbor, a teacher who wants to be a writer and is dealing with heavy dynamics of her family and father. Their friendship and ensuing relationship is awkward and staccato but also brimming with tender love and understanding amidst the challenges of each character’s baggage. The soundtrack is fabulously coupled with an evenly-paced script and dynamic performances by Hugh Dancy and Rose Byrne.  The ebb and flow of the film is so natural, so real, that the choices will break your heart with their depth and their human-ness.

Highway Drive II

09 Sunday May 2010

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choice, daydream, driving, friendship, highway, Jesus, life, love, party, road trip, sacrifice

The highway was alive last Saturday night. The sun tucked its glory behind a Midwestern hill a few minutes early, leaving a film of dusk sticking to my tires and making my mouth dry. The lanes twisted together, ducked behind construction barrels, swerved under viaducts, vanished on false horizons. I was driving to a party with no one in the passenger’s seat.

I imagined a charming young man asking me on a date across our open windows while we waited in inchworm lines of traffic. How silly. So I drove and drove alone, listening to music and praying for a birthday party. How silly.

This birthday gal and I are friends against the odds. Waitresses don’t have friends, only a compounding list of former and current co-workers. She’s a licensed masseuse, but even that isn’t what keeps me around. She’s a spunky woman, an independent gal with a lot of energy and passion for life and for the things she loves. She loves to love, too. And she asks questions, not unlike me, so we try to find the answers together. We’re an odd pair, sure, but we make it work. We do.

And to make it work, I drag myself to parties like this, where we sit on lawn chairs in the open garage chatting about our industry while I choke on smoke and drink water from a plastic cup. The make-believe man who drove by me on the highway would do this too, this convoluted plan of sacrificing to show love. He would even miss a hockey playoff game for a birthday party such as this. Like me.

On the way there, I always think it trivial and I worry because I don’t fit in. I play worship music, reminding myself of all kinds of truths about this and that. I consider turning around every few minutes, convinced I wouldn’t be missed in the chain-smoking garage. But on the way home, I’m content in the refreshment that follows. I never love it, but I always come out alive. The birthday girl smiles and hugs me and says she’s glad I came. She reads my card because I’m unemployed and buying a gift would break the bank. She says she loves that, too. And on the drive home, the highway breathes deep and falls asleep and all I know is that this love is the only love that will last.

Highway Drive: Creative Non-Fiction

09 Sunday May 2010

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daydream, dream, driving, Jesus, Jordan, life, party, road trip, story, writing

It was just me and my music on the highway last Saturday.  The sunset had finished, leaving dusty shadowclouds and a labyrinth of construction between me and the Northwest suburbs of Chicago.  Then, there you were, rolling down your window out here on the highway.  I shook my head and laughed, in no mood to play these games.

We coasted like parade floats in traffic, waiting in lines of red brake lights to get on I-294.  You said, pull over.  I said, no way.  Was this some kind of joke?  No one would do that.  My music shuffled from a choral number, the Broadway musical kind, to something slow and melancholy, maybe the new John Mayer.  You were a mystery to me and I couldn’t carry on until I solved you.  Tell me why any sane person would follow you off this highway, knowing that rape was the likely result.  Semi tires were grinding into the road, my voice was carried away by the breeze.  Give me three reasons, and be real if you want me to believe you.

The ramp is just ahead and I don’t know why I’m yelling out the window.  I’m going to pull off and he’s going to miss his turn.  I might lose you on this, but if I only had one reason, I’d tell you that I love Jesus and, as captivating as you are to me, I wouldn’t continue to pursue you unless you were in love with Him, too. 

Your turn signal was on, but your car was still beside mine.  I could’ve reached out the window and we could’ve held hands.  The lyrics in my speakers sing about lying, about leaving your loved one, and I realize I have no way of knowing if you’re telling the truth.  You say you live for Jesus and I hardly have any idea why I’m saying yes, but I am.  I don’t really want to drive out to this party anyway.  The Hinsdale Oasis, right after the toll.  I roll up my window and take the turn.  He’s behind me for the first time and I check my rear view mirror obsessively. 

After the exit ramp, I don’t know what happened next.  My highway sweetheart may have been everything right for me but I didn’t even ask his name.

God, Potential Control Freak

01 Saturday May 2010

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Belief, Christianity, control, Donald Miller, faith, family, future, God, God's will, life, plan, salvation

I didn’t know a lot of legitimate info about Jesus until I went to college.  But before that I had a self-help season of life late in high school where I tried to quit being such a rebel for forty-five seconds and be “good”.  There was one boy who took me to his church after, or before, I cut his hair in the bathroom of his parent’s house.  This friendship may have been one of my first major exposures to Truth on the road to Christ.  You didn’t need all about Pete and his probable obedience to the Spirit leading to my eventual salvation, but consider it my free gift to you.  He’s the reason I know about this Donald Miller blog post, which rings true to the whole issue of God’s will this-n-that.

God’s will is sticky territory; honey spilled all over the carpeted floor and paper towel shoes on your feet.  But it’s there for us to walk across, even in our helpless paper towel shoes.  Miller makes some simple, yet fantastic points, which touch on some main doctrinal “must’s” when it comes to God’s will.  And he gets real with it and remembers to be practical, a detail I’m learning to value more and more.  Check it out.

NHL Playoffs: Round 2

01 Saturday May 2010

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Blackhawks, Chicago, hockey, Jordan Staal, NHL, Penguins, Pittsburgh, playoffs, sports

Hawks vs. Canucks

Hilarious locker room shorts of Vancouver Canucks players listening to the song that plays after every Blackhawks goal in the United Center.  My loyalty to Jordan Staal as my celebrity dream boyfriend has not waned, but Shane O’Brien is quite the looker.  I must say.

Pens vs. Canadiens

To all the haters out there: it is completely acceptable to maintain dual-loyalty.  Furthermore, any girl who follows professional hockey to the point where she shifts her schedule according to the playoff bracket and knows how to describe icing to her friends affords at least the freedom to cheer on two of the top eight teams in the NHL.  Sheesh.

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