Frozen & Mr. Banks

When I first became a Jesus follower in high school I was amazed at the depth of wisdom about life that I found in Scripture, and all things "Christian."  I quickly assumed there was no wisdom elsewhere, that God could be heard only through the voices of His followers (and, of course, His followers that agreed with my perspectives). 

And then there was Paolo Coehlo.

I began to devour nearly everything this mystical novelist published.  Here's the weird part: God met me in deep, profound ways when I read Coehlo's books, ways that still affect me today.  I began to see that the voice of my Father could be heard all around me and often I can tell when it's Him.

I recently saw two movies that touched me, and made it hard for me, in my manliness, to hide the fact that I was tearing up.

The first was Frozen.

Yes, my world of five girls makes Disney movies part of my life's fabric.  Because the young princess Elsa has a confusing power to freeze things, her parents are forced to keep her isolated from everyone, including her sister Anna, with whom she once was very close. 

Neither Anna's parents, nor Elsa herself, ever explained to her why her sister had to be kept apart.  This is the part that moved me: Anna, instead of writing off her sister because of her coldness, fights for, and ultimately sacrifices what she longs for, for their love.  In the climax of the film, she has the chance to get the guy she loves to kiss her and save her, but she chooses to give up that chance so her sister can live. 

How many times have I written people off because I didn't understand them, because I didn't know their story?  How many times have I looked down on people for something without considering that it may have been great pain that is the cause. 

This leads to the other movie: Saving Mr. Banks.  It's the story of the woman who wrote Mary Poppins.  The movie consists of many flashbacks to her childhood where she recalls the father that she loved so dearly, but who was painfully addicted to alcohol. 

Here is a woman with a past, a story that explains a great deal about how she is as an adult.  It struck me just how much of a legacy her father left on her.  It was indeed a legacy, though, a legacy of shame, guilt, and sadness. 

None of us can leave a perfect legacy, but, oh God, let us strive to leave an

honest, good one.  I can think of it now with my kids, but for you guys you are leaving legacies too to your siblings, your family, your friends, your boyfriend or girlfriend, and your classmates.  No one really hides their light under a bushel.  The question is what kind of light are you giving off?

Wisdom comes in my surprising places.  This time it was the movie theater.