Oct 24, 2007 |
by Annette Bridges. © 2007. All rights reserved.
“Tell me a story, Mommy,” my daughter demanded night after night. Her enthusiasm for stories continued to grow as she grew into an avid reader and frequent moviegoer. I suspect our thirst for a good story is never quenched throughout the ages.
Storytelling has long been a useful forum for teaching and learning. Maybe Christ Jesus believed this — he frequently taught spirituality through similitude and parables using themes, settings and characters his audience could most relate to. His lessons still capture our attention today and give us reason for reflection.
Perhaps we should not be so surprised that religious themes and imagery are appearing in popular culture’s medium for storytelling — from books to films to television to music to technology.
There is a growing awareness of the impact of storytelling. Many religion and philosophy professors argue that fictional books and movies can lead to a deeper faith and understanding of one’s spirituality.
This summer’s movies, The Da Vinci Code and X-Men: The Last Stand are only the beginning. Coming soon are Superman Returns, Click, and Lady in the Water. Flicks like these touch on spirituality through such themes as connection, sacrifice, redemption and reconciliation. Topics worthy of consideration, I would say.
My own spiritual journey took on more serious focus “a long time ago in a theater far, far away.”
It was a day I will never forget. It was one of those unsuspected, defining moments of my life. I saw movies most every weekend, but Star Wars was unlike any movie I had ever seen.
In 1977, I was a freshman in college. My interests were boys and having fun. That was pretty much it. At that point in time, an education or a career were not high priorities. Nor were things spiritual. I probably went to see Star Wars swept up by the anticipation hype of the day with my friends. All I know is I saw it not once, not twice, but dozens of times.
In Bill Moyer’s interview with the director, George Lucas, Lucas said he hoped the Force would “awaken a certain kind of spirituality in young people” — one that was more about a “belief in God than a belief in any particular religious system.” One that would simply make young people think. Well, his hope proved true for me.
I can honestly say that in 1977, it was the first Star Wars episode that prompted me to think more spiritually and to broaden my perceptions to consider how one action begets another. The “Force” reminded me of the Higher Power that unifies all creation. That all of creation has a purpose — including me! Yes, for me the Star Wars sagas were much more than mere tales of science fiction.
I found great hope in Anakin Skywalker’s character — hope that promises no one is beyond help, that it’s never too late to change. The same kind of hope exemplified in the parable of the prodigal son told by Christ Jesus.
I think perhaps Anakin’s greatest flaw was fear. He became intoxicated by fear. Thus he was led to believe and do that which he should not. As he succumbed to his fear, Anakin’s doom was sealed. This reminded me of a statement made by Mary Baker Eddy, “A man’s fear, unconquered, conquers him, in whatever direction.”
I was relieved and heartened by knowing he would be redeemed. His “fall” would not be the final chapter of his life.
From watching the Star Wars tales, I’ve concluded that if fear is the answer to the question — what makes men do evil? — perhaps love is the answer to the question — what redeems us from evil? Love was certainly central to Anakin’s redemption.
I’ve often thought about a simple, yet compelling, statement of Eddy’s — “The time for thinkers has come.” A statement that I believe is an imperative call for people in all ages. Why? Because all too often it’s possible to just accept an opinion, viewpoint or prognosis without question. Because we can sometimes get duped into a decision that is not the best for us.
Those six words — “The time for thinkers has come” — were engraved in my heart the first time I read them. I really like the idea of being an independent thinker. And I love anything that gives me reason to think.
There have been many stories told in books as well as on television and on the silver screen that have made me think and that have taught me helpful lessons through their imaginative tales of life and adventure.
Perhaps any storytelling forum that results in people pondering, even questioning and debating, religious beliefs and issues is a good thing.
Oct 24, 2007 |
by Annette Bridges. All rights reserved.
It’s easy to tell others not to give up hope. But have you ever asked yourself if you believe what you say?
In the past year, I’ve walked with many a friend and family member facing difficult challenges — be it illness, accident, divorce, or death of a loved one. In my desire to help, I’ve tried to offer words of hope and encouragement.
But because I struggled with despair in my own heart over their plight, I recently asked myself if I really had the hope for them that I voiced.
I’ve begun a search to understand more about hope because I want the hopeful words I speak to be words I truly believe.
In her writings, Mary Baker Eddy refers to a famous Italian proverb translated, “While there’s life there’s hope.” And I’ve wondered if the reverse is true — while there’s hope there’s life. A university experiment suggests this is so.
Two groups of mice were observed in the experiment. The first set was restricted so that the mice felt it was hopeless to try to escape. And the second group was arranged in a way to give them some hope of escaping. After a time, both groups were dropped into tubs of water. The first set sank. And the second group immediately swam to safety.
This experiment suggests that hopelessness leads to death while hope results in life. I’ve read other medical school studies that have concluded an attitude of hope contributes significantly to the healing process.
But while I could see the powerful effects of hope and hopelessness on the mice in this experiment, I didn’t want to agree that our hope is contingent on our circumstances and conditions. If I agreed, this would suggest that we could become overwhelmed to the point of drowning in our despair.
I turned to the Bible for more insight. My attention was captured by an account about a woman and the hope that saved her life.
She had struggled with her illness for twelve years and had spent all her money on physicians, seeking healing. But none of them were able to help her. No doubt she had heard about the healing works and teachings of Christ Jesus. And apparently her hope was so great she believed if she could simply touch his clothes, she could be healed. She was healed, but Jesus explained to her that it was her faith that had made her whole.
I thought about this dear woman’s long desire for better health. And I was inspired by her hope as she continued to believe she could be healed, in spite of years of futile searching.
Such examples strengthen my hope and fortify my own determination to never give up on the possibility for a life of health, productivity and potential. They make me hope and believe that healing remains possible for every one and in every case.
For me, this Biblical healing account, while teaching us not to give up but to remain firm in hope, also teaches us to remain open-minded about the method in which healing can come. It teaches us not to limit options and helplessly accept any diagnosis or fear as the final word on life.
So how do I maintain the same hope as this woman who went to Jesus for healing?
Mary Baker Eddy’s explanation of “belief” and “to believe” is helping me answer this question. She writes, “The Hebrew verb to believe means also to be firm or to be constant.” And she continues, “The Hebrew and Greek words often translated belief differ somewhat in meaning from that conveyed by the English verb believe.” The Hebrew and Greek meanings of belief “have more the significance of faith, understanding, trust, constancy, firmness.”
I’m getting a glimmer of what hope really means. Hope that is not merely wishful thinking or looking at life through rose-colored glasses. But hope that is a confident expectation of good and a firm trust based on the understanding of an omnipresent and omnipotent, entirely good God.
Because God is ever-present giving us all we need in every moment, our hope is ever present and a power in the face of whatever obstacle we may encounter. Because God is all-powerful and a loving divine Parent always caring for His children, our hope is indestructible and indelible and it cannot be smothered out as the mice experiment suggested.
With God, divine Love, at our side, we are embraced by hope that helps us see beyond a problem to possibilities. With God, eternal Life, as our guide, we are sustained by hope that keeps us moving forward expecting better days. With God, supreme Mind, directing us, we are renewed by hope that gives us confidence our goals and dreams are obtainable. And with God, infinite Truth, forever instructing us, our understanding is filled with the hope that healing is possible.
The Gospel of Mark says, “…for with God all things are possible.”
Yes, I choose to base my hope on that promise. Those are hopeful words I can believe!
Oct 24, 2007 |
by Annette Bridges. © 2007. All rights reserved.
Many people who know my daughter have asked me how she is handling life as a military spouse. My daughter has long been a planner and has not always responded well to an idea that required her to change her plans suddenly.
Three years ago she married a young man six days before he began his Air Force career. And since that time, her life has been full of many changes. Some expected. And some not.
This past fall was our son-in-law’s first deployment overseas at which time our daughter came home to stay with us. It was difficult not to have him home during the holidays, but we waited till he came back in late January to celebrate Christmas. And it was well worth the wait!
I admit at first it was hard to consider changing our traditional time of celebrating the season, but we wanted to save most of our festivities for our son-in-law’s return.
I think for many people, change is sometimes feared — even something to be resisted. Perhaps some see change as an indication they have no control over their lives, so they do everything they can to avoid change and feel like its victim when they face it.
Yet anyone who reads much of Mary Baker Eddy’s writings probably gets a view of change as normal and sometimes necessary. She frequently uses such phrases as “change your course” . . . “a change demanded” . . . “change of heart” . . . “change the human concept of life . . .” And following change, comes the promise of growth, healing and progress. She makes change sound desirable and positive, and not a bad thing after all.
Recently, I asked my daughter how she has adjusted to military life — with its sometimes unexpected changes.
She said, “That was the hardest element for me, not being able to plan out the next few years of our lives. I think the uncertainty we face has caused me to become a more fluid person. I am better able to deal with change and have become more spontaneous.”
As her mom, it has been fun to witness this change in my daughter. She no longer sees change as some burdensome challenge she must face at times. I see in her a young woman who has embraced change as natural as life itself. And so she has grown into a poised officer’s wife while she also continues her own career goals.
Not long after our son-in-law returned to the states, we learned he could deploy again much sooner than initially planned. I asked them how they felt about this possible change to their schedule.
They said, “Deployments are hard and there is never a good time for your loved one to leave. We take it day by day, and just enjoy every moment we have together. In many ways we’re a stronger couple for it because we don’t waste time planning for things in the future. If we want to do something, no day is better than the present.”
They said that Eddy’s ideas on improving moments and making the most of the present have been powerful, healing ideas as they live their ever-changing life together.
I decided I needed to start examining my own heart to check for ways I may have become resistant to change. And the results have been rather surprising.
I’ve uncovered viewpoints that were stagnant and stubborn. I discovered some traditions and routines which were unreasonably rigid avoiding any inclination of change. I could see that I had become set in some old ways which were not conducive to growth. I wanted this to change — so, I’m working on being more spontaneous myself.
Turning to prayer for guidance and fresh inspiration is helping me be more open to the idea of infinite possibilities. I’m becoming more willing to explore and consider new ideas and opportunities. I’m calmer in situations that arise unexpectedly. And I’m happier.
Since change all too often leads to progress, I’ve concluded maybe all that’s needed is simply a change in how I view change.
Oct 24, 2007 |
by Annette Bridges. © 2007. All rights reserved.
I’ve never really been a basketball fan, but since the Dallas Mavericks were in the championship series, my Texas pride made me watch. With each agonizing game (specifically the last four), I remembered why I’m not a basketball fan — the game seems filled with unfair foul calls. I know I sound like a sore loser — and I am. My Texas pride may be acting up again!
Still, even though I screamed out my frustrations over what I considered unfair calls, I also yelled for the boys to step up their game. I encouraged them to do a better job at making their shots, rebounding and so forth. Even if some foul calls were bogus, I still believed they had the ability to win the games.
Now that the series is over, I’m reflecting on how the game of basketball is sometimes like our lives. Or at least like my life.
Many times I’ve felt life was unfair — like nothing was going my way. And in those times anger, disappointment and depression victimized me: Poor me. “It wasn’t my fault.” “I didn’t have a choice.” “There was nothing I could do about the cards I was dealt but to accept them and suffer through it.”
Fortunately, my mama taught me a lesson long ago that has helped me learn how to pull myself up from what feels like life’s unfair dealings.
The lesson, or storm of events, began one September evening when I was ten years old. It wasn’t a hurricane or a tornado. But it was equally devastating and for me, and just as sudden.
I was taking my bath, getting ready for bed, when my mama unexpectedly came through the door. She promptly whisked me out of the tub to make a quick escape from her bitter and angry ex-husband — my dad. He hadn’t been able to accept the divorce. My mama had been warned by a relative that he was on his way to our place with violent intentions.
There was no time to pack, so we left with what little could be grabbed in a flash. I was never to see my home or my dad again.
For the months that followed, we were homeless with little money.
Many have asked my mama what enabled her to survive those times. I suppose some might call it a “can-do” spirit. Perhaps a positive attitude. Maybe a cheerful outlook. Or a “never-give-up” perspective. My mama could never be brought down — for long, anyway.
I can only explain that it had something to do with her faith — her faith in a new concept of God that she was learning. A God that is good and omnipotent. A loving God who will steer His children safely amid any storm. A God who has given His children the ability to prove evil powerless. A God who sent His son, Christ Jesus, to teach us how.
Her faith-filled outlook gave us hope. And her faith-filled perspective brought us the vision to see good and to find new opportunities — even peace of mind, and yes, joy. Her faith-inspired point of view led us to a new home in a new city, a career for her and a new life for both of us.
My memory of those childhood days is not of lack, uncertainty or fear. I never even thought of myself as homeless or poor.
I suppose I could look at my childhood experience with regret. But those days for me were a great gift — a lesson in how to beat the odds. How to overcome the insurmountable. How to begin anew when all is lost. How to find something good in every moment.
I learned that a different outlook can change the course of our lives. We have to take responsibility for our thoughts and actions every moment. Mary Baker Eddy wisely advised, “Your decisions will master you, whichever direction they take.” And she encouraged again and again to, “Stand porter at the door of thought.”
We can do this because God gives us the ability and the strength to govern our lives in harmony and peace.
After I married, my greatest battle with what I considered the unfairness of life began when our daughter was two years old. We were ready to continue growing our family. But more children didn’t arrive. Year after year, I struggled with disappointment and depression, as well as anger and frustration. My mantra was, “Why me, Lord?”
I can’t say that I overcame my struggle as quickly as I wish I had. But as I learned in my childhood, it would require a new outlook to move my life forward. As it turns out, a grateful heart was imperative. My love and desire for children didn’t end. And children did come into my life — just in a different way than I had expected. I became a kindergarten teacher. And not long after that, my teenage niece came to live with us.
I’ve concluded God does answer our prayers — just not always in the way we outline. When I’m certain of God’s ever-presence, I’m able to respond to whatever comes my way, calmly and confidently assured of God’s directing.
And God is always directing. I just can’t hear Him very well while whining about life being unfair. But when I stop whining, I see the solutions and new opportunities that God is providing that enable me to overcome and succeed in spite of what might seem like the “unfair fouls” of life.
Oct 24, 2007 |
by Annette Bridges. © 2007. All rights reserved.
You might wonder how remodeling a house could lead to spiritual insights about life. I was surprised myself at the unexpected twist.
I waited years to remodel our master bedroom. Something was always coming up that demanded our time, attention and money — and we kept putting the remodeling on the backburner. But finally the day arrived and the project was underway.
One special aspect of the master bathroom was a mural surrounding our new tub — painted by a friend, who is a phenomenal artist.
Since my favorite view is of the ocean, my friend created a scene so that when I soaked in the tub I could imagine myself by the water’s edge — with waves crashing, palm trees swaying, sandpipers standing at attention on the sand, and seagulls flying overhead.
A surprise in this seaside picture was an island on the horizon. When I praised my friend’s work, she told me she had not initially planned to paint the island. She had made a mistake with her brush, and in trying to determine how best to correct it, she turned her mistake into an island. It was the perfect addition to an already awe-inspiring painting. Truly, a masterpiece. A glimpse of God’s creation with every detail in its perfect place.
Lately, as I look at her mistake, I realize that I can’t even imagine the scene without it. And this has caused me to reflect on mistakes I’ve made in my life. I’ve wondered what my life would be today without those mistakes.
My most vivid memory of a life-altering mistake was when I was placed on academic suspension from college my freshmen year. Not that the suspension was a mistake but rather the result of my poor study skills and more time spent in social activities than in classes.
For a while, I was devastated and depressed. I was forced to leave my new friends and a new boyfriend and to leave my new home and return to my parent’s home. I didn’t know what to do with my life.
Not long after going back to live with my parents, I received an encouraging letter from my college advisor. She explained that the word “suspend” also meant to “uphold by invisible support.” I could know I was also being supported by the school’s hopes and expectation of my return. I appreciated this definition, as it began to shift my viewpoint from self-pity to looking forward.
I also struggled with guilt. I realized I had made many mistakes in judgment that led to my current plight. I felt horrible. I felt I had let my parents down. Although they were compassionate toward me, I knew they had to be disappointed in me. I know I was.
I felt like I was floundering at the beginning of my adulthood. In search of solutions and encouragement, I turned to the Scriptures and the various writings of Mary Baker Eddy. These resources had supported my prayers in the past. Surely, there would be answers now.
I started keeping a journal. As I studied, prayed, pondered and listened, I wrote in my journal. Quotes. Insights. Questions. Inspirations. Ideas. I also spent time with my parents — praying, reading and reasoning together. Something I had not done in a long time. We had wonderful discussions. I felt blessed for the time we were sharing together.
It was the inspiring ideas in a column titled “Improve your time” by Eddy that changed my point of view from inadequacy and failure to the woman of God’s creating — a woman possessing the ability and talents needed to be successful. She wrote about how to achieve success in one’s life with persistent effort and the improvement of moments — how to stop wasting time and move from indecision about what to do. She said, “If one would be successful in the future, let him make the most of the present.”
Leaving past mistakes behind me, I focused on present possibilities. Soon, a job opportunity presented itself. One that taught me much about unselfish care for others’ needs. I enrolled in a community college, where I took several remedial classes and workshops to improve my reading and writing skills. And I continued to cherish time with my parents.
A few months later, I returned to my home college. Three years later, I earned my Bachelor of Arts degree with the senior class award for “progress.”
Life-changing lessons were learned from the mistakes of my freshmen year. And time spent with my step-dad during those months became all the more precious to me when he passed on shortly after I returned to college. I then saw my time home as a gift. A gift I might not have had without those mistakes that sent me home.
No, I don’t think I can imagine my life today without any of my past mistakes.
Learning from our mistakes, growing wiser because of them, we progress into the masterpiece of God’s beholding. His eternal and constant view of His beloved children — strong, intelligent, loving, healthy. . . good.
