Sunday, July 17, 2005
Had a great time at Popiah at the Movies a few days back, though i must admit that was the first in a VERY long time i had actually stayed up the entire night without sleeping till the next day was well on its way. Call me old if you will, but i don't really care =)
The time we had was fun, with all the movies and laughter amidst the movies. Yet i left the place with thoughts, and these thoughts were only placed in their proper position when i went for my Youth Alpha Weekend at Sentosa Scripture Union Campsite. The movie that initiated these thoughts was Moulin Rouge - a good movie, touching, well scripted (though i don't entirely agree with the casting lol), and i loved the musical bits and songs.
I get the impression that the whole idea of the movie was one that has been replayed over and over again in Hollywood, yet no one gets tired of hearing another story about it - the notion of all-conquering and inspiring love, a love that goes beyond differences and beats the odds. I won't deny that i was extremely touched by the movie and i really really REALLY wished Satine didn't have to die and they had a happy ending, but her death (not Nicole Kidman's) contributed to part of the beauty of the story as well. But it left me with thoughts about love and often what we perceive it to be.
Everyone wants to be loved - it's as simple as that. That's why Hollywood has been so successful replaying this same theme through many different avenues. Yet i can't help but think that the love that was portrayed was somewhat incomplete. Inspiring, yes. Enpowering, yes. Overcoming, yes. But incomplete, yes.
Another story of love was told of a person who lost his sight in an accident. The poor young man had his entire future in front of him, and it was all taken away just because of someone else's carelessness. Not surprisingly, he was depressed. Locked himself up in his room and refused to do anything because he felt he couldn't - after all, he couldn't even see. His father slammed open the door to his room one day and shouted at him, "Boy, you are moving your ass off that bed! I'm leaving the house and there's a storm coming - you are to shut all the storm windows before it hits or else the house will be ruined, you hear me?" And then the door slammed shut. Shortly after that, the front door slammed shut too.
Our idea of love? Maybe not. Or maybe you think that that was the father's way of getting the son to find his purpose again. Yes, that's love too, but that's not the part that touched me.
The story continues as the young man gropes his way around the house, grumbling and griping at how unfair, how unreasonable and how un-understanding his father was. Slowly, bit by bit, he found the stepladder, managed to locate each of the storm windows and close each one of them. Yes, he found that despite being blind, he could still do something in his life. But the most touching part of the story is that many years down the road, he found out that during those hours of him gumbling and groping around the house, his father was never more than two feet from him, ready to catch him should he have fallen.
Silently kind. Sacrificial. Love encompasses that too.
I once asked Jesus if He loved me.
"Yes, I do, My child""How much?"
"This much."And He stretched out His hands, nailed them to the Cross, and died.
simply jon.pondered @ 7:22 pm
--
