Battling Expectations: Review of THE SHACK

A friend of mine in high school vowed to never watch Forrest Gump. It didn't matter how much time we spent convincing him it was worth watching because that wasn't the point. He felt that the hype had elevated the movie to a height that it would surely not be able to reach upon his viewing.

I battled this same expectation as I read The Shack. Although the hype hadn't been as big as a feature-length movie with a powerful studio behind it, Christians have an uncanny way of rooting for "their own team" in a sense and as a result I felt like I read The Shack with a much more critical eye.

Plainly said, I deeply enjoyed some parts of the book while other sections left me feeling a bit cheeseball and wishing that Christian allegory and metaphors could be a bit more.

#1: My all-time favorite theme of the book was redemption found through relationships. My favorite quite comes from the Foreward, "I suppose that since most of our hurts come through relationships so will our healing, and I know that grace rarely makes sense for those looking in from the outside." I exhaled deeply and re-read this sentence about four times before continuing. I just wanted to camp out right here. If there were no more words written in the book, I would have been satisfied. But, gracefully there was more.

#2: The theme of redemption through relationships continued to weave itself beautifully throughout the book. I never thought the author claimed to be a theologian and so I never questioned any of the concepts he introduced. What the author, Young, did do was paint a picture of relationship between the trinity and Mack that was beautiful, authentic, and heart-lifting. When the main character, Mack, struggled to connect with a God in whom he could trust he looked to Jesus and built a solid, loving, caring relationship with a man he found so easy to love.

Thank you for emphasizing relationship and denouncing religion. That almost made me laugh out loud picturing Jesus talk about his dislike for religion.

Here is what I thought was a little cheeseball:
#1: Mack's over-eagerness to engage in such a "spiritual awakening". For a man stuck in a deep depression, he seemed a bit to easy to convince that God was inviting him on a journey to the shack. Really, is it that easy? The next weekend? I wanted to see a bit more inner fight and maybe some spiritual battle happening just to get him there.

#2: Whoa! Slow down Mack! What happened to your anger? your sadness, your questions? For me being in the presence of the Holy Spirit doesn't make my emotions any less raw. What happened to your passion? I wanted more rage, more anger, more throwing of the fist up at Papa. He just seemed to melt into submission around the crew and let them do all the talking. And, when I say all the talking, I really mean ALL the talking. I definitely get it that the mystery of God is just that, but why does Mack need to look like an idiot replying in one word phrases and insisting that his brain was turning to mush while the crew continued to simplify by using metaphors and analogies that made me feel like I was reading a devotion by John Eldredge? (not bad by any means, but not original).

I believe The Shack can and is being used to touch the hearts of many. I am passing it on to my dad the next time I see him and I hope he'll pass it on. The message of hope and that God is especially fond of us is one that I will never tire of hearing or praying that people can accept. I've known too many people who don't believe that they are loved by God and their relationship or lack thereof with God affects all the relationships around them. For them and for all of us the message of being loved by God rings loud and true in this book.

P.S. In his acknowledgements he cites Matt Wertz as one of his many musical inspirations, but then adds after Matt's name in parentheses "you are something special". This dude has GREAT taste! :)

Kids Say the Darndest Things!

Back in the 50's and 60's Art Linkletter hosted a show with a section devoted to chatting with kids aged 5-10. Obviously, I wasn't around to see it live, but I've seen many clips and years later Bill Cosby attempted a show of his own in the late 90's with the same title. I LOVE the silly things kids say. I love how uninhibited they are and how they say exactly what is on their mind. What I also love is how they point so directly to the words on our own hearts. Often times kids say what we feel and what we wish we didn't feel. Kids haven't yet learned the art of tact or humility and in many ways they expose our own lack of humility.

Monday I took my nephews to the zoo. If you are losing interest, please stick with me. This is no doting auntie post believe me. I could post a long list of funny things my nephew, Tatum, has said, but what struck me more was a conversation he had with my dad after I took them home.

Tatum loves cars. He is a typical four year-old boy. He loves to race matchbox cars and crash them. He always asks you which one you want to be. If you answer incorrectly, he'll let you know. You have to pick the winning car. That's the way it works. As Tatum prepares for an upcoming matchbox race he proudly displays the two options before my dad.

"Which one grandpa?"

My dad selects a car at random fully aware of Tatum's game.

"No grandpa. That one loses."

My dad answers, "That's okay."

Tatum is fully bewildered at this point and tries to reason with my dad.

"Don't you want to win?"

My dad replies with a quick and easy, "No."

"But, then you'll lose. You want to lose?"

Tatum is puzzled beyond belief and his poor little head is trying to figure this concept out. His face is all contorted and if he had wrinkles on his brow, I'm sure they would've furrowed. Tatum tries again, "You don't want to be a winna" (he has a toddler accent :) and says this pleading with my dad to change his mind)

My dad responds with a classic line that characterizes the man I'm so blessed to call father. He says, "No. I don't want to win. Because If I lose, that means someone else wins and that makes me happy."

I felt as if the air stood still for a moment. It hung thick all around me as I felt tears rising from my clenched throat. Like a flood I recalled all of the countless times my dad has put me first. He truly lives his life this way. He is happiest when he loses...because others win. I am overwhelmed to have a father that has lost so many times for me so I could win. I wish I could be more like my dad, but I fear that I am more like my nephew Tatum questioning, "Don't you wanna win?" What is life really about? Can I be happy losing? or will I continue to question the sanity of those who willingly choose to lose?

Redpath

Some friends of mine just started a new group, Redpath, and I got to go into the studio to record their process. I thought it would be fun to do sort of a "behind the scenes" peek. This is their first single, "Let Go" produced by Darren Rust. They have another song coming out soon produced by Joel Hanson. I think they're pretty neat-o, but in the very famous words of LeVar Burton, "You don't have to take my word for it." Go check them out for yourself. myspace.com/theredpathsmusic

A Love Story

I'm taking a short reprieve from my usual blend of sassy cynicism to write about a love story that delivers more oohs and ahhs than the silver screen.

This year my grandparents will celebrate their 66th wedding anniversary. 66 years! Even as I type, I find myself shaking my head in a dazed disbelief. How can two people be married for 66 years? Maybe my questioning comes from the poisonous message of the current culture that validates an "I'm sick of it and want out" policy. Maybe it's because I don't really believe people can marry their high school sweetheart; don't we have to "discover ourselves" first? DeLores and Joe Ackert answer my skepticism with proof that I can't deny. 66 years after they said "I Do" they still stand by each other with unwavering loyalty and a love that I can't even begin to do justice with my feeble words.

About three years ago my cousin, Katie, and I stumbled upon a box full of old letters. When we looked closer at the letters, Katie and I both thought we had struck gold. The box contained hundreds of letters written by a young husband stuck overseas involved in a war that tore him away from his lovely bride for three years. Katie and I both vowed to type the letters and create some sort of a book for our family. The way in which our grandpa wrote brought tears to our eyes. Life has gotten in the way of our once ambitious plan to bring the love letters to life again, but my passion to tell their story has been renewed. Their health has been slowly declining and each day brings a new set of challenges. In the wake of my very own love lost, I have come to see the rare and priceless beauty in a love that defies all odds, years, and even wars. It's a love that makes me believe it can exist and trust that love really does overcome. It's a love story that begs to be told...and so...I will.

If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. ~1 Corinthians 13:1

What is going on here?

For what seems like years, but in reality has only been about six months a small group of us have been planning a well...movement for lack of better word. Give Yourself Away 08 is a movement to connect people with needs to the people that can help meet those needs. It's kind of a "needs network".

We are launching it on September 14 with a big Robbie Seay Band concert. The catch is you can't get into the concert unless you give something away. You can sign up to the needs network at giveyourselfaway08.com or bring something to give away the night of the concert.

I'm angsty and feisty and just plain bored with church done the same static way it's always been done and this excites me in a way I can't describe. Being the Church doesn't mean we gather in a building once a week to smile and sing and learn how to be like Jesus. Being the Church is about getting our atrophied butts out there and connecting to the real world. One with pain and hurt, frustration and devastation.

It can be as simple as taking photographs of a family and putting them in a nice album or changing a single mom's car's oil. Money is good, but relationship is better. I once had a conversation with a friend about "assisting" bringing the Kingdom here on earth. He disagreed and said, "God's Kingdom is already here. He doesn't need our help to "bring" it". I've since revised my view. I feel as if God's Kingdom is under a veil of ugliness, unjustness, inequality, and oppression. Every time we step outside ourselves, we tear back a small portion of the veil to reveal God's Kingdom here on earth.

Whether you agree or disagree with my theology is irrelevant because I'm learning life isn't about me anyway. giveyourselfaway08 needs prayer and participants. Check it out. Tell your friends and family and strangers on the street. It's not solely a church thing or a Jesus thing. It's about loving people because we all deserve to be loved.

Consumerism at its best...for real

So, like most females I love to shop. I have to restrain myself more times than I care to however, because of lack of the ever vital dollar bills.

In the ugly wake of consumerism versus lack of money versus "Gosh, I should be doing better things with my money", I stumbled upon the most amazing thing; Tom's shoes www.tomsshoes.com. I'm dying to get these shoes! Not only are they super Cali cool and remind me of my (almost) surfer days, they actually donate a pair of shoes to a child in need for every pair purchased. Every pair!!! Not 10% of the proceeds, not an undisclosed portion of the profits, a whole pair!! Pair for a pair.

For those of us trying to be conscious of what we buy and how we spend our money, I think we should make a statement and get a whole bunch of these shoes. Keep a couple pairs for yourself and give some away as gifts. Talk about a gift that keeps on giving...for real. I love this company and their commitment to give.

Stay Classy Bloggers! :)

Yvonne

Often times I find myself having "aha" moments over and over again. I'm not sure if it's because my brain seems to be partial to exclamation marks or because I'm easily distracted and need to be reminded. In either case I had another "aha" moment last week over a topic I've been wrestling with for quite some time.

It began two weeks ago when I joined three other ladies from my church at a woman's apartment. We had been called by the CAC (Community Action Council). Yvonne had called needing assistance moving. Her husband had died three years ago and she had been on the waiting list for Section 8 housing for just as many years. Finally Yvonne's number was called and she needed help packing and moving her two bedroom apartment. She had surgery a few years back and couldn't pack herself and didn't have access to any help for lifting and moving items.

Yvonne is a larger than life character. She has two cats, one of which bites...hard. She is an adept chit chatter and can derail any small attempt at progress swiftly and with Bond-like precision. You need a designated out when you start talking with her or else your goodbye may last 45 minutes.She has amassed a colorful assortment of useless, indecipherable, and unmentionable trinkets over her life and they all sat proudly displayed in every available nook and cranny in the two bedroom apartment. It's an intimate thing to pack people's belongings. You see and touch their prized possessions. Sometimes I blushed at the items and other times I sighed with a heavy heart. Her husband's closet hadn't even been looked at since he passed away and I had the task of packing it up. I couldn't help but breathe a little deeper as I opened the doors. It felt like sacred space in a way.

When we got the call to go back a few days later and actually move her stuff I couldn't help but feel a little hesitation. Her apartment is thick with lung burning smoke, her cats are just plain scary and she's got soooooo much junk. I really wasn't looking forward to it, but we didn't have that many volunteers so the part of me missing the guilt trip immunity agreed to help, but I was grimacing on the inside. Upon my arrival I was surprised to see the amount of volunteers expected had more than tripled. "Great." I thought, "It'll be done quicker". I was wrong. 4 hours later I loaded my sweaty, smelly body back into my car, but I was smiling and my mindset transformed.

During the course of the night, I got to know Yvonne. I listened to her story. I found out that her husband had been diagnosed with cancer 2 months before he passed and that her daughter had been murdered 5 weeks within her husband's passing. She was the first African American woman to ever be employed by WCCO Television and she loves her mother. There's power in human connection when we allow a voice to be given to people's stories. It should be a human right to be heard; your story ascribed worth and value simply because it's yours, no one else can claim it and no one can take it from you.

Yvonne knew we were from a church, but we didn't tell her which one. We weren't advertising a worship service or even Christianity, but something amazing happened. She asked us. She wanted to know what kind of faith community would gather and help someone out who had nowhere else to turn. She wanted to be a part of that community.

I used to think relational evangelism was about listening to people so that you would "earn" the right to be heard. I realize now that that philosophy is manipulative and shallow and deduces the value of a person's story to some sort of a commodity or currency to exchange. You tell me your story and I'll tell you mine...about Jesus.

I became genuinely interested in this eclectic lady named Yvonne and in turn she asked about faith and our church service. It surprised me. I'm starting to see how powerful stories are especially when you listen without pre-selecting the words you are going to say next. Learning to listen is like learning to truly love.