Life has been a entangled web of tasks and places to be lately and I have been sinking emotionally under the weight of it. In the midst of all these to-dos, I had scheduled lon ago to attend a seminar over the weekend on the Old Testament sponsored by Asbury Seminary and taught by one of its professors, Sandy Richter. As I drove home from work on Thursday, I was feeling crushed by everything I have to get done at work as well as all the family and church responsibilities I have coming up. I thought, how can I possibly go to this seminar this weekend?

As always, making time for God in my life was definitely the right choice. Good theology is like a healing balm for the soul, and I needed it so badly. Dr. Richter is doing a user-friendly overview of the Old Testament this weekend for our group. She began by wanting us to understand that all the stories of the Old Testament are united in that they tell the story of God's redemption. And then she unpacked that term. I'll write more about this later, but suffice to say, I was feeling both broken and renewed -- that curious energizing mixture that Christ is so good at doing in our lives -- as I left the church where the seminar was held. Oh, Jesus, thank you that you saved me and continue to do so.

I told my five-year old son that if he was good today he would not have to take a nap. He has a little trouble with being overly aggressive (he morphs into a ninja-superhero-mutant turtle thing and tries to start fights with various family members) when he does not have a nap. But he has to be ready for afternoon kindergarten next Fall, so I've been thinking I should phase out a nap over time and deal with the negative repercussions now rather than later. When he heard he might not have to take a nap he replied, "I am going to be so loveful today, Mom." Recognizing you have problem is the first step to recovery, they say.

My friend, Kimberly, has been waiting for me to review the movie The Hours on my blog. We went to see it together a couple of weekends ago, but I have been so busy since I haven't been able to blog about it. I think I needed the time, though, to digest this movie. Here goes.

The plot of the movie involves a day in the life of three women in different eras connected in one way or another by the book Mrs. Dalloway . One of the women is Virginia Woolfe, the real-life author of book, who one sees struggling to write the book during the early 1920s. Another of the women is a 1950s housewife preparing for her husband's birthday while she is also reading Mrs. Dalloway . The third woman living in the present day is called Clarissa Dalloway by her writer-friend for whom she is throwing a party that day.

At the beginning of the movie, one of the characters says that there are days in women's lives that can tell the story of a woman's whole life. This movie attempts to do just that. Despite their separation by time and circumstance, the women are united not only by the Woolfe's book but by their struggles. Each woman has difficulty preparing for a social event that day - a visit from London, birthday party, celebration for an award. Each struggles with isolation and longing. Depression, suicide and lesbianism are also themes. The struggle of being a woman in a world that demands certain things that may not fit well with one's desires is also explored. In the end, the women are released from their struggles in very different and disturbing ways.

Like most things in my life, I have two minds about this movie. On the one hand, the artistry of this interwoven story is superb. The story is complex yet simple to grasp, full of symbolism and depth. The photography, costumes, and set design -- the look of the movie -- is absolutely stunning, showing pictorially the unity of the women's lives while also being true to each eras differences. The acting also is fabulous. It is hard to grasp how the members of the Academy decided who to nominate for a best actress Oscar since Nicole Kidman, Julianne Moore and Meryl Streep each gave outstanding performances. This movie is not for the casual movie goer, wanting a night away from his/her troubles. This is a deep, emotionally complex movie, meant for those with a literary sensibility. Not your average Bubba movie by any stretch.

The other side of me -- the part that is more in touch with my white-trash roots rather than my pseudo-intellectual yearnings -- objects to the starkness of this movie. These objections take several veins. First, why is it that intellectual-types are always attracted to such dark story lines? It's as if they are trying to make those of us who are relatively happy and well-adjusted feel like we have no emotional depth because we are not depressed all the time. I object to that -- I think I am both deep and happy, thank you very much. Second, why is it that the plight of women is presented as compromise yourself or commit suicide -- those are your choices, ladies. (Think also of the movie Thelma and Louise.) I, for one, have never felt like I my only options were either death or eternal depression. Can't there be a happy middle option somewhere? Next, why must artsy movies glorify suicide as some noble human choice? Whether you come from a Christian or a naturalist point of view, suicide is the negation of our fundamental destiny as humans. Suicide is always a tragedy. We should never applaud it, even as we seek to understand the suffering that leads to it. Finally, I must say I am puzzled a little by the lesbian tendencies the characters exhibit. If modern-day Clarissa is in love with her male writer-friend, why is she in a relationship with a woman? And the kiss Virginia gives to her sister was just a little freaky. Call me a cultural philistine. It was just plain weird.

All in all, I would highly recommend this movie, but only to people who like artsy-fartsy movies. It is fabulously made -- a real movie-lovers movie -- and a great for lots of discussion afterwards. Okay, I could go on about this movie but this should be enough for today. Let me know what you think if you have seen this movie. TTFN.

[3/18/2003 3:45:42 AM | Trudi Matthews]
I had one of those weeks last week that involved a constant stream of stuff that had to be done and meetings to go to. I finally have a moment to BREATHE and can sit down to blog again.

Since yesterday was St Pattys Day, I thought I would share a little about the plans and dreams that my husband, Peter, and I have for our new church plant called - you guessed it - St Patricks.

For years now I have been inspired by the story of St Patrick and his miraculous call and vision. For those of you who do not know his story, I urge you to read How the Irish Saved Civilization to get the full story of this amazing saint. St Patrick was an Englishman who went to Ireland and established monastic communities of faith that helped convert the Irish to Christianity. St Patrick and his followers lived Christianity into the Irish culture in amazingly innovative ways, using everyday forms and pictures to tell the Christian story - the shamrock and other real world examples of the trinity, simple repetitive prayers that imparted deep theological truths, symbols and ritual embedded in everyday life as well as special feast days. St Patricks monastic communities were not isolated from the surrounding culture but were safe havens that welcomed the stranger and helped them to experience God in everyday life and work. Being welcoming to outsiders did not mean that Irish Christians had to water down the message of Christ to make it palatable to the pagan Irish. These communities fostered deep friendships and intense discipleship and were all the more inviting because their commitment ran deep. St Patricks monastic communities were also centers of learning and artistry that influenced deeply Irish cultural life. Many years after St Patrick came to Ireland, the now Christianized Irish sent missionaries all over the British Isles and Northern Europe.

Our hope is to embody these features in our modern day St Patricks - to be a community that loves and serves the stranger, that fosters the arts and learning, that is marked by deep friendships and discipleship. These things are not my passion because they are strategies to grow a successful church. They are rules of life and ministry that can form us deeply into the image of Christ and that help others experience the reality of Christ in us. More about this later, just something to think about in light of St Pattys Day.

Oops, deleted the repeat blog

I was blog-o-surfing when I came across Beth Keck's blog from March4th. She discussed -- or should I say ranted a bit?-- about the way that the Christian church fails to really help women be all they can be. I was going to merely post a comment on her blog until I realized that this was definitely something that I needed to rant about, too.

Let me just say, Beth, honey, I don't know you except through the technological wonder known as blogging, but I say, you go girl! Why is it that we take for granted that men can go to school and have a good job and be involved in the church and have a stable family life, but this is impossible for women? I'm not saying that women HAVE to work either inside or outside the house to be upside, downside happy all the time. But I do think we too often prematurely constrain our choices. It's the "well, why don't you major in child development because do you really think nuclear physics is going to be useful when you are a stay-at-home mom?" syndrome. Well, hell, yes, I plan on working on low energy antiproton theory in my spare time, thank you very much. Between changing diapers and getting dinner ready, as a matter of fact.

I'm talking about expectations here, not necessarily outcomes. Obviously there are women who really love child development, teaching, nursing and other traditional women's professions -- these are noble callings. All I'm saying is that these should not be default options that women select because anything else is too difficult to manage with all of "women's responsibilities" in life.

When I went to school to get my masters degree in political science, a lot of people asked me what I planned to do with my degree. To my shame, I remember saying frequently, "Oh, maybe teach or just be a really educated mommy." I felt a certain subtle pressure to justify further educational attainment by saying somehow it was going to make me a better mother. Well, I think it does in one sense, but why couldn't I say simply that I love politics -- it's my favorite contact sport?

I am so grateful that my husband supported me -- pushed me even -- to finish my degree. Without it I'm not sure I would have made it on my own. In retrospect, it's a good thing, too, because now I'm the breadwinner while Peter is in school. He stays at home now and takes care of the kids, while I jaunt all over the country atending meetings for my work with state officials. But that's the subject of another blog. In any case, I appreciate that there are other women out there who feel the same way that I do about these things. Thank you, Beth!

Today the tree guy came to finish off the tree in my yard that cracked during the ice storm. It was both sad and fascinating to watch. That big tree. The big bucket truck and chain saws taking it down. Talk about your saw dust. There was a squirrel living inside the tree that got really freaked out when the guy started cutting down the tree. I wish this kind of thing did not amuse me so, but I blame my father for this. He was the master at torturing animals and small children. When I was a kid, he would loosen the pieces in the Monopoly game box and shake it to get our cat's attention. Then he would send it flying across the kitchen floor AT the cat, sending him about 5 feet in the air. So see, it's not my fault.

I am avoiding work I have to do. I was supposed to finish an article on Medicaid for work today, but I'd much rather blog. Being a health policy nerd can be tiresome after a while. Besides, I am experiencing that perverse impulse to procrastinate on a project that is already overdue. I know this is crazy, but I can't help it. I get it from my mother, who is perpetually late for everything. I cannot remember ever being on time to church in my life because of that woman. Well, except for the time we forgot to set our clocks back and showed up 45 minutes early to church. Now, did you get that? We showed up 45 MINUTES EARLY. We thought we were going to be 15 minutes late. So, once we figured out our mistake, we decided to go get some doughnuts nearby. Somehow we still managed to be 5 minutes late for church when we came back. So see, it's not my fault.

Oh well, enough excuses for today. Medicaid calls...Okay...I'm leaving now. Really...Yeah...Um, take care now y'all. Bye bye.

Yesterday my older son was disciplined more than normal and was feeling aggrieved. He complained because he had to go to church so much, because his parents were so strict, because he couldn't do what he wanted when he wanted, etc. etc. Now I must say that it is pretty rare that he acts up like this -- among nine-year old boys he is about as good as most depraved sinners get at that age. But then he went on to say that he couldn't wait 'til he grew up and could move out and that he wish he never had us as parents.

Now, I have two minds about things such as this. On the one hand, all kids say things like this to their parents. It didn't hurt my feelings because I said or thought the same thing when I was a kid. On the other hand, I kind of felt he had crossed a line in his tone. So I could take a number of tacks: the "I got news for you kid living with you ain't no picnic either" tack or the "well, I'm sorry you feel that way but I'm not changing my mind" tack, or also the "you will have a lot of time to dream about your new family when you are grounded to your room tomorrow" tack. I thought about it and I decided that he needed to understand how hurtful words like that can be. I tried not to lay on the guilt, but I did want him to understand all that his dad and I do out of love for him, how ungrateful his attitude was towards us and also how out of line it is to let yourself be so mad at someone that you say hurtful things to them. He said he was sorry afterwards and we talked quite a bit before he went off to bed.

Parenting often is like trying to find your way in a labyrinthe. Will I look back on this and see it as a wrong turn? Or will this event be a turning point in his ability to empathize and understand the perspective of others? Or will it just be one of many everyday opportunities where we try to steer him in the right direction that establish good patterns of behavior and lead to right actions over time? Or will it be completely forgotten? Who can say. As best as I can tell from the experiences of others, it all seems pretty much a crap shoot with kids. If you are a lousy parent, you certainly damage your kids, but the converse is not necessarily true. There is no guarantee even if you are a good parent that your kids will end up doing what is right as adults. I wonder what anyone else out there thinks about these things. I'd like to hear your thoughts.

A little story for Ash Wednesday adapted from Frederica Mathewes-Green's book, The Illumined Heart:

Centuries ago, the story goes that one of the desert fathers was found weeping by a younger monk, who asked why the older man wept. Abba Dioscorus replied that he was weeping for his sins. The young monk was puzzled by this because the older monk was known for his long years of holy living. So the younger monk said, " My father you do not have any such sins." The older monk responded, "Truly, my child, if I were allowed to see my sins, three or four men would not be enough to weep for them."

Ash Wednesday is a time to remember the brevity of our lives and how ill we use this gift God gives us. I like the ashes on my forehead and the prayers we say as reminders of our guilt and sin that send us crying, running toward the cross and the tomb at Easter.

This year I have decided to fast from sweets during the Lenten season and to adhere to a simple diet. My prayer is that these physical disciplines will make me more aware of my spiritual hunger and remind me of my need for Christ. In a more vain vein, I also hope to lose a few pounds. What can I say - food is my substitute for Jesus during times of stress. Through my job I know how unhealthy it is to be overweight and, with my genes, I am a timebomb waiting to go off. This is just not good stewardship of the life God has given me. So I begin again to repent and work toward change as God works within me. Oh happy guilt that moves me to change!

Oops, forgot to include the recipe for Dylan's Reading Rainbow Lasagna

2 c cooked white rice
1 jar spaghetti sauce
1 pkg. frozen chopped spinach (or bunch of fresh spinach)
1 large onions
1 green pepper
1 pkg mozzarella cheese

Cook rice per package instructions. Saute spinach and onions together in oil or butter. Put one layer of cooked rice in a 9x13 pan; sprinkle layer of spinach and onion on top of rice; pour spaghetti sauce over that layer; sprinkle cheese over the top. Repeat layers; cover top completely with mozzarella cheese. Bake at 400 degrees for 30-45 minutes. Serve.

I live with a very creative, sensitive boy -- my nine-year old son. For weeks this boy had been bugging me to make this new recipe that he had written down while watching Reading Rainbow. He hadn't written all of the directions down and it was for lasagna but it called for using rice instead of noodles. So, there was an element of risk in fixing this recipe. However, there was significant risk in NOT fixing it either. A couple weeks ago we bought all the ingredients to make it. Then in a hurry one evening to make supper I decided to make spaghetti and used the special jar of sauce he had selected for his new recipe. He burst into tears and ran upstairs when he saw me use it. Talk about heaping on the mommy guilt.

Well, finally, the other night we made his special lasagna. We took the added step of taking it to a potluck supper at Alan and Liz Creech's house. And it was a big hit. He was so proud of himself and just soaked it up. It was a nice parenting moment.

As my kids have grown up I have heard parenting experts say that you need to encourage your child's creativity -- help them think outside the box. Well, my son has always been SO creative that I felt I had to go a little in the other direction and make sure his ideas were rooted in a firm understanding of how the real world works. (But mom why can't I start an international commune to foster artistic creativity and run it from the space underneath my bed?)

The problem with having a creative kid is that they require YOU to do things too -- they push you outside the bounds of what you think possible to do the impossible or improbable. It is so humbling and challenging to have a kid who wants to start clubs and organize events and eventually save the world. How do I parent that creativity and energy effectively? Well, not very well actually. My son has had lots of good ideas that we never acted on because I was just too tired to try to keep up. I hate to admit that I am holding back my son from acheiving great things, but there it is. Well, at least we will always have the lasagna...