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Films and Devotion-Part II

28 Mar

Yes, when I originally wrote the title of my last post, Nature, Films, and Devotion, I had intended to separate the three words into their own posting.  However, I have mulled the idea of each over in my own head long enough that now the original intent I find to be quite boring.  And so I will fulfill my self imposed duty by combing the last of the two–Films and Devotion.

The two films I will write about actually have devotion as an underlying theme, which is how I came upon my introspection in that direction previously.  The first film is simply titled, “Emperor.”  It is a movie that is currently playing in the theater (more than likely the independent theater, though it does have some big names in its cast).  The basis of the storyline centers around the time of Japan’s surrender during World War II, and General (Supreme Leader) MacArthur’s mission to rebuild the war torn country.  Though I do not recommend utilizing a film to educate one to facts, this story does present interesting factual occurrences which, upon further research, prove to be quite enlightening.

I was particularly moved by the idea of devotion that was talked about between characters throughout the movie.  An American General, under MacArthur, was given the mission to either exonerate or convict the Emperor Hirohito for being party to the strike on Pearl Harbor.  During his mission we, the viewers, are given privy information into his love of Japan through flashbacks from his college days and his love affair with a Japanese foreign exchange student.  Through these varying vignettes we learn of the idea of devotion which the Japanese people have embedded in their culture.  According to the film, the Americans cannot understand this type of commitment to a leader, much less a cause.  And we, the viewer, are further solidified in this notion when toward the end of the film Hirohito meets with MacArthur to accept full responsibility for any and all war crimes.  Now to keep this post more on the shorter end than the longer, I must leave the details of all that occurred to you to look up on your own.  For it is not a ‘black and white’ case and there is much to learn concerning the Emperor, his position, the people, and the significance of his meeting with MacArthur.  What I was left with, from the film, was the idea of devotion–and the question, “To what am I devoted?”

The other film which struck a chord with me is a documentary titled, Half the Sky.  This film chronicles the various horrors females face around the world, for being born with two X chromosomes, and the people determined to redirect their fate.  I confess, this was a difficult movie for me to watch…but then again so was Emperor.  Both films have very heavy, and disturbing, realities.  Yet both films are threaded with the redeeming qualities brought forth through devotion.  In Half the Sky, we learn of women (and men) who are devoting their lives to protect and redirect the human experience for girls who are sold into sex slavery as young as 3 years old, and females who are utilized to keep their family afloat, while being subjected to incestuous circumstances.  We learn of people who are dedicated to educating those double XX’s (girls) who long for an education.  And in this process we learn of the dangers, not only the girls are living with as result of their birthright, but the danger the ‘helpers’ endure to ensure the possibility of a change in destiny.  These ‘saviors’ are devoted.  One woman in particular, escaped the life as a sexual slave and has established two homes (plantation type estates), where she rehabilitates these beautiful girls and empowers them to rise above their former affliction.  This middle aged woman organizes raids upon brothels, rescuing girls while risking her own life in the process.  Hers is a devotion that stirs my soul.

Ok, there is truly no way to tackle this subject without being slightly verbose…and because of that reality, I will anticipate that you, the reader, will gather enough of the information I am hoping to impart without needing me to carry on further.  I do hope to glean a greater sense of purpose from the concept of devotion.  I ask myself certain questions, “To what length will my devotion endure?”  “If I become disenchanted by someone, will I allow my devotion (to them) to cease?”  “To what length am I willing to risk my comfort in the effort to assist others?”

These questions are not abstract in nature, they actually translate directly to my children, my husband, my extended family, and my friends.  Yes, I would love to be an ambassador for change on a global level.  But I must first evaluate if I have what it takes to stay the course with my loved ones.  I must transfer my global desires down to a finite and practical level.  And for several reasons the two films, Emperor and Half the Sky, help me to keep my focus and strengthen my devotion to those present before me.

And now I ask you, “To what are you devoted?”

Nature, Films, and Devotion

18 Mar

Nature (part 1):  Finding my way through the great out of doors.

I am not a photographer.  In fact I abhor the task of photographing anything.  Yet with the cell phone camera, now at my disposal, I have found myself more eager to capture something I want to remember.  For instance, while out on a walk or hike should I come across something in nature that causes me pause, I think to myself, “I would like to capture this inspiring moment and share it with someone else.”  But more important than this nonsense of my use or non-use of a camera is the idea in the aforementioned sentence of nature giving one, a cause to pause.  For as you know, from reading my last few posts, I am slowly crawling out of the pit of extreme stress.  And while in the pit, I don’t care what kind of natural phenomenon might occur before my eyes, my soul was too bogged down to appreciate.  Oh my mind was keen to understand the beauty before me if an instance such as a hummingbird allowing me the rare opportunity of a private viewing, should present itself.  But my soul would have no response.  It was just plain ‘ol, flat.

So it is, when I am out and about in my suburbian nature and my soul is touched by something, not just my mind, I can delight in the knowledge that I am “coming back”.  For when in darkness, it is difficult to even recognize oneself.  I am a nature lover, thus when nature I cannot love, there is an obvious disconnect.

The following photos are ones taken with my little Samsung cell phone, while out walking with Piper the dog.  Their occurrence before me caused me pause.  And in that quiet state, I thanked my Lord for utilizing nature (once again) to call me back.  The beauty of the Cherry Blossom seemed to say, “I lay dormant along with you, but it is again time to bloom.”  The trickling of the San Juan Creek reminds me that while the hand of man is just a few steps away, the hand of the Lord is always present (as the running water, in an otherwise dry creek-bed, testifies).  And the colorful turning of the leaves of one solitary tree, amidst the evergreen backdrop, silently demands recognition…you decide what it says!  For me, its silence enacts a balm-like remedy to my spirit…the golden quiet.

Last, but not least, is the juxtaposition of the man made stop sign alongside the pink blossoming tree.  Actually, the sign is appropriate to the context of this post.  “Stop,” it says.  Stop and redirect.  Somehow, someway, get a new perspective.  See again.  Breathe again.  Take pause.  Utilizing the grand, or not so grand, natural occurrences around us can call us back.  Back to a place of understanding who we are.  Even in a city environment one can experience the powerful call of nature as a weed makes its way through a crack in the concrete, shouting loud and clear, “I am Here, I made it!”  And the inadvertent message to us should be, “so can we.”

Next up, Films, part 2.

Nature in Suburbia

Nature in Suburbia

Fluffy2012

The accomplice

SJCcherryblossom

Engulfed in Pink

SJCcherryblossom2

Harmonious living

San Juan Creek

The running creek

Interior Design

23 Feb

Today is the 3rd morning after I wrote my previous post .  In that particular writing I had avowed to start my day off with prayer, before even getting out of bed.  Well I am here to tell you that today is the third day I have awoke, jumped out of bed, flew to the kitchen for a drink of water, mozied over to the coffee pot to start my brew, only to remember:  I FORGOT TO START MY DAY WITH PRAYER!  Back to my bed I run…  Run, written in the present tense because it is a present condition until a new habit is formed.

(I am tempted to interject the song, Three Days, by K.D. Lang, but I will spare you the musical interlude–just know that I am a walking jukebox and pretty much have a tune for every word, thought, and occasion)

How quickly I have adjusted to my habit of self focus, how difficult to redirect the interior of my design.  I am thankful for this blog.  It has, even in the slightest, kept me on a track I wish to follow.  By simply being a reminder to my soul of the desire of my heart.  Apparently, I need the help.  I can tell you that going back to bed and forcing myself to converse with The Almighty G-d has truly been an effective method in strengthening, me.  Now if you have been reading my musings for a bit of time, you will know that I tend to not divulge the intimate details of what transpires here at home.  Those details belong to not just myself, but my husband, son, and daughter.  Only after I feel the circumstance is “safe” will I allow myself the freedom to share beyond the ambiguous notion of the end result.  But to help illuminate, for you the reader, the ‘why and how’ of the impact of starting the day off with prayer, I must let you have a closer look into how thin my psyche has been worn.

Example: If one prays for a miracle, and then receives a yes answer to said prayer, one would think that the requester of the miracle would recognize its presence.  At least I would consider that to be true.  Except just the opposite has happened to me.

My birthday came and went like the breeze, this past January.  And on that particular day we received a call (actually my son did), from his doctor telling him that there was an area of abnormality which showed up on the routine MRI’s he had, had the previous day.  I quickly accessed the report myself and sent it off, via email, to his neurosurgeon.  Unfortunately after having spent the last two years inundated in this new world of brain tumors and 4th ventricular ependymoma, I am now educated enough in MRI reports to understand the circumstance of the abnormal reading…but only enough to be slightly dangerous to myself.  At any rate, all fingers (so to speak) pointed to disease recurrence.  And his next set of xrays, which were going to take a closer look at the area in question, were not for another week.  So we Bents, along with the neurosurgeon at the VA, our private neurosurgeon who performed the original surgery, and Cole’s many other doctors were 99% positive the cancer had returned.  Yet for some crazy reason (actually not crazy at all, but indicative of lives living by faith), we were holding onto the 1% chance…hoping for a miracle.

I am happy to report that the follow up tests showed there was no cancer, only an “artifact left over from the original surgery.”  AN ARTIFACT!!!  I can’t tell you how relieved we all are.  The neurosurgeon’s email response to me was priceless, “Whew. OMG!”  But you know what?  I had been so exhausted from the accumulation of stress upon my soul that I didn’t even consider the miracle of the news.  It was actually my brother, who was finally able to get a hold of me a few days later, who said, “well I think we’ve witnessed a miracle.”  My response? …oh yeah, wow, I guess we have.

Now that, my friend’s, is sad.  A girl living by faith, yet so bogged down that she can’t even see her Father in action!  That was my wake-up call.  My trumpet sound, my slap in the face.  A change needed to come, and I am the only person who could(can) enact it.  And that is why, three days ago I wrote the post, “Better Homes and Garbage” about beginning anew.  Redecorating my inner walls.  And why, for three mornings I have run back to my bed to honor the recognition of the doomed state from which I desire to leave.

Now can I get a witness?? 🙂