Son of God

**Non-spoiler alert-I'm going to talk about the movie, Son of God.  I can't possibly spoil it for you...the story remains the same. Tonight I watched the movie, Son of God.  I don't know what to say; I'm still shaking and still so very moved.  It is by far a movie that has affected me more than any other.  I've seen lots of movies about Jesus, and I've loved them all; The Passion of Christ, The Ten Commandments, I've even seen and loved Jesus Christ Superstar and Godspell.  But this one...this one topped them all.  Maybe for me, it was the casting...all of the actors.  True, the actor, Diogo Morgado, who played, Jesus, was super handsome, and has earned himself the hash tag title, #HotJesus, but that's not what I'm referring to.  It was something so much more than that.  He played the role to perfection...for me.  He moved and looked at people just the way I have always imagined Jesus to do so.  Every story and every reading that I've heard in all of my years about Jesus, from the weekly readings at mass to the messages I help pass on to the teens at Edge, to what I taught to the kindergarteners in CCD, came pouring out of this man's mouth the way I imagine Jesus to be...not old school harsh or boring...but with the most passionate expressions.  I've seen it and heard it countless times...it's just that this particular movie had the biggest effect on me.

Was it my mood...or my hormones...or the fact that I was sitting in-between my mother and daughter (which was very special), but everything about the movie got to me.  In one of the earliest scenes, Jesus came across Matthew, the tax collector, who was collecting money from the poorest of people.  The crowds following Jesus were quick to scorn Matthew...but you should have seen the look in Matthew's eyes when he saw Jesus.  I can't even describe it, but I think it was, shame.  Yea, shame. He was so incredibly sorry that Jesus saw him robbing the poor.  Matthew's eyes filled up with pools of tears...but it was as if I were looking into my own eyes when I've done something wrong.  And all Jesus did, was to return the look with love in his own eyes as he outstretched his hand toward Matthew's.  Oh, my God!  Was it there that I began crying?  Or was I already crying?  I can't remember.  But, they weren't Matthew's tears, they were mine...and Jesus wasn't looking at Matthew, He was looking at ME!  That's how powerful the acting was.

The movie went on to show all of the well-known stories I've heard about; Jesus healing the lame, feeding the crowds with just a few fish, raising Lazarus from the dead, and giving permission to the crowds of men to stone the adulteress if they were without sin.  They held fist sized stones aimed at the woman, who was bound.  The stones were dry, covered in a thick dust, and held by the hands of many covered in sin.  The filth that rose from the falling stones signified their understanding of what this one man was saying, and was so visually impacting to experience.  I was moved in all of the past movies I watched about Jesus, but the key word being, watched.  In, Son of God, I felt like I was part of the crowd, walking with Jesus.  It was filming at its best.  It portrayed the disciples' wonderment and growing love for Jesus, their fear of safety, and it of course, exposed Judas betraying Him and Peter denying Him.  There was so much to pack into two hours...but I would have sat for much longer.  The emotion was running on high throughout the entire movie that I never had time to properly recover from one scene before moving to the next.  I'm going to quote myself from a different emotional movie with, "It was so good, I cried myself all the way through!"

As a viewer, I was walked through the trial with Jesus and saw how fear from both the high priest and Pontius Pilate led to His death.  I felt the forty lashes He received as punishment, and felt the crown of thorns being pushed into His scalp.  And then came His final walk, carrying His cross to Golgotha, the place of the skull.  The cross was huge...I never knew how big it was.  When Jesus fell, it was filmed in slow motion and the theater walls shook.  The camera was on the ground and received the full impact of His fall...each time.  When Jesus could no longer get up, and Simon of Cyrene was grabbed from the crowd to help, I wanted to jump from my seat to help.  But instead, I sat...I sat and cried with shame.

At that point, I could hear Jesus telling me that it was okay.  He was doing this for me because He loves me.  He said that I, too, have a cross to carry.  We all do.  The cross of our sins is heavy, the cross of our hardships is heavy, and the cross of our walk in this life is heavy.  But what I've learned in the past, and heard again tonight, is that He is helping me.  Jesus is my Simon of Cyrene, and it's His love that helps me.

Jesus' resurrection was as beautiful as I've ever imagined it to be.  Once again, I felt as if I were sitting with the disciples when He arrived.  I was Thomas when he felt the holes in Jesus' hands, and I listened to Him explain about everlasting life.  I was with all of them on the mountain after forty days when He ascended to Heaven.

Phew.  What an experience!  When the movie ended and the credits began rolling, no one moved.  I won't spoil what song was playing, but I will tell you that the tears from the audience just kept coming.  Somehow I managed to drive my mother home, but in complete silence.  My daughter and I shared just a few words after that.  What could I say? Just a few grunts.  I must have been a sight when I came home from the movie because poor Officer Buckle paced about the kitchen while I continued to ponder the evening with swollen eyes nearly shut.  "The movie was good?" he asked.  "Good, good, can you iron a shirt for me?"  That, of course, was his way of saying, "I'm sorry that you're so upset.  Let's get you back on auto-pilot."

When I started typing this blog, I made the mistake of reading an online review.  Big mistake...but not for me.  The poor man thought the story of Jesus' walk of life was lame and told too many times...or not well enough.  Wrong!  This is my fifty-second time entering into the season of Lent, and what has my silver taught me?  The story of Jesus' life and what He has done for ME and YOU gets better and better every year, makes more sense.  And now, I'm able to experience it as if I'm walking with Jesus by the use of digital technology.  Lame and too many times?  Never!  I rate movies not but what I see, but by what I feel.  I think it's safe to say that I don't watch movies, I feel them.  If a movie brings out my emotion and leaves me stuck...stuck and unable to stop thinking about it, then it's a job well done...no matter what other critics may say.

I encourage each of you to see, Son of God.  What perfect planning it was that went in to the timing of the release...the beginning of Lent.  The story of God's love, hope, and everlasting life will never grow old.

I saw the Son of God.

How Well Do You Merge?

Here I am again thinking about a word...a real word this time.  But none the less, it's caused me to have a flashback to the summer following my senior year of high school.  I was the passenger in a 66 souped up Mustang being driven by my boyfriend, and was blaring a cassette tape of, Let the Good Times Roll by The Cars while the windows were down.  I was relaxed and didn't have a care in the world.  We were traveling along side of another Mustang being driven by his best friend, who also had his girlfriend in the car.  We were probably coming back from the bowling alley and heading toward home.  Those of you who are familiar with the roads near to where I grew up (hint, same place as now) will recognize this location.  We were heading west on Rt. 450 just off of Rt. 3, nearing Sacred Heart Church.  There were two lanes in both directions on a divided highway at this point, but eventually, and quite suddenly, they merged into only one lane on one single road...merge being the key word.  I vaguely remember my boyfriend looking past me while smiling toward his friend when all of a sudden I felt the car go into some kind of a super hyper warp speed, and I had my first and only experience ever of g-force.   My entire body was thrown against my seat, and I'm sure my cheeks were blowing backward over my ears.  I have no idea how fast we were going, but it felt as if I were going to break right through my seat.  I could tell ever so briefly that our friend next to us was flying as well, when I realized that I, little meek and timid me, was involved in a game of chicken.  Who would reach the single lane first?  I have to pause here for a second and apologize to my parents (who are reading this), and, to you know who...Officer Buckle, because they've never heard this story.  But, I was not driving!  And, I didn't appreciate what was happening.  I don't know who got to the single lane first, but I can guarantee you, that when I found my voice, I let him have it, and he never played that game again with me in the car. The dictionary defines, merge, as:  to combine, to unite, to swallow up, to be absorbed, to lose one's identity by uniting or blending.  Well, according to this definition, that is about what happened to me all those years ago...I just about merged with a Mustang, and became part of the cracked vinyl seating.

I would think that most of you reading this are familiar with merge signs on the road.  Aside from any idiots playing chicken on the highway, how many of you have had problems merging into one lane.  The opportunities to merge are endless, and the results are often times aggressive.  Why, at the last second of completing a merge, does a car speed up to pass me?  It happens so often that I wonder if there is a sign on the back of my car instructing to do so.

Where are you going, that you had to jump in front of me?

Are you going to get to your destination quicker by doing this?

What is your problem?

These are some of the thoughts I've had in the past during my unsuccessful mergings.  But then I had an opportunity recently to watch a short video that taught me a couple of things:  I absolutely don't have the ability to know what's going on with the hundreds or thousands of people I pass in my vehicle each day, AND I absolutely should know the incredible impact that my one small positive gesture may make.  In other words, maybe there's a reason, other than being aggressive, that causes someone to push, shove and pass unfairly...maybe.  And maybe the way I handle the situation will make better for everyone involved.

Take a moment to watch this video if you can.  It's four minutes long, but it really left me with something important to think about.  For those of you new to opening a hyperlink, right click on the link and select 'open in new window.'  It's called, Get Service.

The video really did give me a different perspective on how to handle opportunities of merging, which, I think, could really be thought of as opportunities on how to live life.

It seems to me that so much of society is ready to fight, ready to let words fly or horns honk, or worse, ready to hurt...and over what?  It seems that tempers fly so quickly that people are really missing out on something big...happiness...and the opportunity to be the kind person.

So what has my silver learned from the merges of yesterday and today?  I want to be the one who makes the difference in small and continuous ways in others' lives.  So now, when I'm presented with the occasion to line up, merge, or take a turn, I try to feel the presence of those around me.  Does someone need a kind word or inviting gesture simply because...simply because my words or action might stick with them...might just be the tiny little difference they needed NOT to crack.  And, I hope my silver may never think of the word, merge, in the same way again.

**As many of you know, my purpose in beginning this blog was to help build my social media platform in order to get my name 'out there.'  Thank you to everyone who has been visiting my blog regularly, clicking on the 'follow button,' and sending me words of encouragement.  Revisions to my story are complete, and I am now ready to begin approaching literary agents.  Let the fun begin!

Valentine's Day...Buckle Style

Caught up in the emotion of Valentine's weekend, with hearts, chocolate and roses in a swirling frenzy through the social media statuses and News Feeds, I'm happy to report of my own successful Valentine's gift from none other than...Officer Buckle.  I did receive a box of chocolates, which didn't take up residence for long in the kitchen and...I did receive a very touching card.  It states, "Our love is like a fairy tale."  And on the card was a king holding a broom (how perfect) standing behind his queen, who was seated at her desk holding a feather pen.  Officer Buckle had inscribed the words, blog and book writing, onto her papers.  There, you see...he loves me!  Proof.  But...the gift, in reality, had already been delivered time and time again. Let me back up a bit.  Two nights before Valentine's with a blizzard a comin', Buckle was just about to tuck himself into bed when his phone rang...never a good sign an hour before midnight.  "Oh, no, the night-watch commander hadn't reported to duty; a mix-up," he said, pulling back on his pants.  The snow was really coming down now as our long awaited for blizzard of the season was upon us, and it was a beautiful sight...from the inside...by the fire...or, from under the electric blanket.  But Buckle was about to experience it from the other side.  After pleading with him to take the truck (nope) and to be careful...now think of whom I'm talking with, I tucked my tail and my own self into bed.

Through the night I awakened to the sound of sleet and snow plows, and I wondered how he was holding up.  Truth be told, the commander commands from behind a desk...inside, but there was still the driving to and from the desk and the chance of a quick trip to 7-11 or Wawa that had me worried.

When I finally awakened at 8:00 a.m. and he still wasn't home, I jumped up and looked out of the window.  There he was, shoveling himself back ONTO the driveway.  The plows had done a nice job on the streets, but you know what that means?  A very large and icy ridge at the bottom of the driveway.  Once he had made enough clearance to get his car off the street, he came inside...to go to bed, I thought, since he had now been awake for 27 hours.  "How was your evening?  Did you stay busy?  I re-set the electric blanket and it's ready."

"I've got to go back out again.  Is my green sweatshirt dry?" he said, grabbing a granola bar.

"Yes, but aren't you tired?" I inquired, jogging after him through the house.

Three hours later he proclaimed himself, finished.  He had cleared the driveway, cleared the cars, cleared the sidewalk, fed the birds, check the gutters to make sure they weren't frozen shut AND cleared a path for them to drain.  He had also checked on his beloved newly cut log pile, which he had covered with plastic the day before in anticipation of snow.  He wanted to make sure it would stay dry during the storm.  I knew all of this, of course, because I had run from window to window throughout the morning to check on him.  Hey, I had a friend a couple of winters ago wonder what was taking her husband so long while shoveling, only to find him with a broken hip on the driveway...so I needed to be sure.  This is something my silver has taught me.

So come lunch time, there he was in the garage stomping off the excess snow from his boots, probably wondering what his reward would be for being the ever efficient storm trooper...a bowl of hot soup or maybe a mug of freshly made hot chocolate with marshmallows before climbing into bed?  When all of a sudden...POING!  There went the spring on the garage door.  Uh, oh.  And when he reached above the door and pulled on the safety cord to disengage it...BAM!...the door slammed to the floor, carrying Officer Buckle with it...he almost slid into home plate...forever!

Oh, well, so much for rewards.  But, as far as me and my Valentine's gift...I have my Officer Buckle ready and waiting for what ever action life may bring...whether it be blizzards and frozen gutters, broken garage doors (and already fixed I might add), or more log piles waiting to be split.  My silver has taught me this...THIS is good.  I love you and Happy Valentine's Day, Officer Buckle.

Below are the 'fruits' of my window hopping...enjoy!

What Do You See?

owl-1

This is a picture I recently sent my daughter and niece who were visiting New York City for the day.  It was December the 23rd, and their long anticipated  independent day of fun was finally upon them.  The entire trip was planned by themselves with no input from someone older and wiser.  They were going to re-create the adventures of  Buddy the Elf' (a favorite movie character of theirs) and they knew exactly what they were going to do.  When I noticed ahead of time that the chance of rain on their planned excursion was increasing by the hour, I suggested they change their date.  Mom, we know what we're doing.  Oh, okay.  Well, why don't you at least take the train...it's faster and more comfortable, my husband jumped in.  Dad, we don't want to hurt your feelings, but we know what we're doing.  It was now Officer Buckle's turn to raise his eyebrows. So off they went in the pitch black and pouring rain early that morning with umbrellas tucked safely inside their bags at my request.  Text me throughout the day, was my only request.  And a long and miserable five hours later they were able to stretch their cramped muscles by getting dumped off the bus and onto the cold and rainy city streets.  I'm sure at this point (and it wasn't even noon) they began to replay the suggestions from those much older and wiser.  When my daughter called a short time later, I wasn't surprised to hear that they had already taken refuge in a restaurant...and just to tease them a little, I sent them a picture of  my slippered feet propped up in a recliner...nice and toasty.

I don't know why, but they didn't enjoy that picture...hmm.

Soon afterward, the mother and teacher in me took over so I sent them another picture...this time, the one shown above...of the wood pile...and I asked them what they saw.

And I'll ask you, too.  What do you see?...other than Officer Buckle's handiwork?  Look closer...

owl-2

I asked them if they saw the owl's face.  I know it's really part of the cover and a piece of wood, but can you see it?  And I think they began to understand.  I know you paid all this money...and it's raining (even though I had already told you that), but you're in NEW YORK CITY... two days before Christmas...and you have a plan!  Now get out of that restaurant and stick to your plan!

You know, it really was one of those moments that made me feel like I had done something good.  I told them to remember to take pictures (as if) so they could look back on this day and laugh at the remembrance of all things fun and good.  Were they able to re-create Buddy the Elf's adventure?  Part of it.  Did they ice skate in the rain at Rockefeller Center?  Yes.  Did they have fun shopping and did they enjoy the hustle and bustle the city provided....two days before Christmas?  Certainly.  Did they get wet?  Soaked...right down to their toes.

But I think they were able to stop...stop griping and complaining...stop feeling sorry for themselves...and SEE the picture (their situation) from a different viewpoint.  And here is how they appeared from the new viewpoint.

iceskating rockefeller center

cousins in NYC

Santa's mail

              and             and   

So apparently, they weren't the only ones in need of that particular advice.  As great as it was, I took the advice that I so freely shared with them and recently re-dished it out....to me.

I had an opportunity just last week to feel pretty sorry for myself when I received yet....another rejection to my book.  I'm sure I felt what most people would have at first...low...sorry for myself...questioning...just all around yuk.  So after I allowed myself some time to wallow, I, too, looked at my situation, my rejection, to view it differently.

And this is what I came up with:  With each rejection, I've had an opportunity to look deeper into the whole process of publication...a world so brand new to me...new terminology...publication houses (is that where agents and editors live?)...formatting...editing...re-editing...polishing...query letters-can you believe I didn't know what that was?...hook-and I thought a hook was what Officer Buckle used with his fishing pole...log line-what?  And then there was genres...sub genres...agents-I mean, literary agents...writing clubs-CWG-Christian Writer's Guild-which I'm proud to say I am now a member!  I've even emailed a couple of literary agents...well, 2... more than twice at their request-is that a rapport?

All in all...the older and wiser...SILVER side of me...once I finished wallowing...realized that success is not necessarily the destination, as much as it is the journey.  I still have a long way to travel, but as long as I am learning with every step, and realize that getting lost and making wrong turns is part of the journey, then I am well on my way.