A Movie Review, an Epiphany, & a Birthday Wish January 8, 2010

I saw Julie & Julia recently.  Before I’d seen it, several people told me I needed to see it, and that the movie reminded them of me.  I don’t know what exactly about the movie reminded each person of me, but nevertheless I was intrigued.  Now, as you can probably imagine, as a woman with 4 small kids, I don’t really get to the movie theater much these days.  Pretty much if it’s not available to watch on Netflix’s Instant Streaming feature, I haven’t seen it.  A few opportunities to see the flick passed me by, so I simply resolved that I would eventually watch it once it came out on Netflix.

So back in December I went on what was supposed to be a 4-day cruise.  It was fabulous.  But then on the day of supposed debarkation, we woke up to find ourselves parked in the middle of the Gulf of Mexico surrounded by a thick as molasses blanket of fog.  So our 4-day cruise turned into a 5-day cruise.  Now before you start rolling your eyes and thinking to yourselves “Awww, poor babies,” we were, at that point ready to go home and be with our husbands and our kids.  At that point in the trip, I was incredibly thankful that I was in fact married to a dude, as I had tolerated as much estrogen concentration as I could possibly handle. 

Enter Julie & Julia.  The cruise director announced during breakfast that they would be playing movies in the Universe Lounge (a Vegas-style “show” room, where we’d witnessed a brutal massacring Beatles’ tunes which appeared to be performed by high school students just the night before.  I believe they were trying to keep the captives entertained in an effort to prevent us from all going stir-crazy.  We were elated:  Julie & Julia would definitely be a step-up from the Beatles review.  I would finally get to see the movie that everyone had recommended to me.

Once the movie started, I was immediately taken in.  Meryl Streep is utterly brilliant as Julia Child, for whom I must say I’ve always had a soft spot.  As a 6-year old, I used to watch episodes of “The French Chef” with Julia and “Louisiana Cookin’” with Justawn Wilsawn on our one available channel on a military base in Germany.  You see, I come from a family who loves to cook.  All my memories of my paternal grandmother, who was from Malta, were of her standing in the kitchen.  In fact, I don’t remember her ever entering any other part of her house.  My dad followed in her footsteps.  He even taught my mom how to cook.  And I am proud to say that each one of my siblings is a fearless artist in the kitchen.  These are my humble beginnings as a foodie.  I love food.  I love to eat.  I love to cook.  Food is a passion.  Cooking is therapeutic.  I already loved the movie before I’d ever even seen it.  Similarity #1.

Then you’ve got Julie Powell played by Amy Adams (you probably know her as Giselle from “Enchanted”).  A 30-something young wife who finds herself in New York City living with her husband in a cramped apartment above a pizzeria.  We find her working as a frustrated secretary in a cubicle, whose passions include cooking and writing.  Similarity #2.

In summary, she decides to embark on a project that involves cooking through Julia Child’s famous cookbook Mastering the Art of French Cooking in a year as she blogs about it.  536 recipes in 365 days.  Then she gets a book deal, becomes famous, and they make a movie out of her story starring the most insanely talented actress of all time.  Yeah, that’s not really a similarity.

Needless to say, I loved the movie.  In fact, I loved it so much and talked endlessly about it to my husband when I came back home that he bought me the DVD for Christmas.  Yet, I haven’t even touched on my favorite aspect of this story.  The movie was about two women, but it was equally about the men in their lives who stood by them and helped them achieve success–their husbands.  These women were married to loving, kind, supportive, and dedicated husbands–Julia to Paul and Julie to Eric– who, it could be argued, were the driving forces behind each woman’s success.  The movie was incredibly pro marriage.  Had it not been for their husbands, we probably wouldn’t even know who Julie & Julia are.  Don’t get me wrong.  These weren’t “she wears the pants” kinds of relationships.  Both marriages were healthy, loving, stable, communicative, intimate…Equal.  They moved when their husbands jobs required them to, even if it meant sacrificing comfort and giving up lives that they loved.  They moved as a unit.  One.  They functioned together.  They were a team.  It was incredibly beautiful to watch.

Similarity…number…3…

You might say it was a recipe consisting of 1 woman who hadn’t seen her husband in 5 days, mixed together with a dash of estrogen overload.  Yet, as I watched these men dedicate themselves so fearlessly to their wives, I realized that that’s exactly what I have.  I married a man who absolutely loves seeing people become everything they were meant to be.  At times, his ambition and his fearless optimism drive me absolutely nuts.  But then again, I honestly can’t imagine living without them.  Today, I love the person that I’ve become.  And I would have to say that 85% of that is because of Ren Buckland.  The man is a visionary.  He believes in me.  He believes in people.  His hope is endless.  He pushes me to become who God created me to be.  Even when it’s not convenient for him or me.  He is patient when I am feisty.  He is calm when I go crazy.  He is sweet when I am…not.  He listens to me.  And he loves me.  He is dedicated.  He is faithful.  He is gentle.  He is kind.  He’s selfless.  He doesn’t demand his own way.  He’s a perfect gentleman.  And he’s mine.  Till death do us part.

I don’t know why it took a movie to help me see all that.  But since I’ve been home, I feel differently.  I look at him and I see these things.  Even when we have a disagreement.  Even when he’s late coming home from work.  Even when he’s tired and cranky.  Even then.  I count my blessings.  I am more in love with him today than I was the day I married him almost eleven years ago.  And who was born 42 years ago today.

Happy Birthday, Sweetie.  I love you more than I can say.

Suffering Better January 1, 2010

I’m not big on New Year’s Resolutions.  Yet, I find myself reflecting on some things as we enter 2010, thus leading me to a couple resolutions conclusions.  2009 was a really good year for the Buckland family in many ways.  While it seemed that storms were raging all around us, we remained sheltered in what, at times, felt like a protective bubble.  Our kids thrived, our marriage thrived, and our lives were, for the most part, pretty peaceful.  During one of the worst economic crises our country has ever seen, Ren’s company also had its most profitable year.

Oh, and Zoloft is AWESOME.  But I’m sure that has had absolutely NOTHING to do with it. 

Please hear my heart, I am certainly not trying to brag about any of this.  Just reflecting.  If it makes you feel better, 2008, on the other hand, was the exact opposite.  In fact, I will just go ahead and say that 2008 pretty much sucked.  I won’t depress you with all the details.  Those of you who are closest to us know all of them anyway.  And for those of you that don’t, read this and you can get an idea of the fact that I pretty much lost my mind.  I really feel like I suffered some sort of mental, emotional, and spiritual collapse that had me questioning absolutely EVERYTHING I’ve ever believed.  So 2009, for me, was a year of reconstructing.  Rebuilding.  Piece by piece, picking up shards of shattered illusions and putting them back together to form a stronger, more durable, and healthier reality.  This past year, I’ve relied heavily on a foundation of simplicity.  If I liked it, it stayed.  If I didn’t, it went out the window.  If I wanted to do something, I did it.  If I didn’t want to, well, I didn’t.  I got back in touch with the things that made me tick.  I started listening to myself more, all in an effort to take better care of myself, my husband, and my family.  And what I realized in that process was how much I absolutely loved what I was doing.

So I’m here.  I’m happy.  All is well.  Yet, I have some regrets.

I’ve been following Matt Chandler‘s journey as he, together with his precious family, courageously battles cancer.  He was diagnosed with anaplastic oligodendroglioma (an aggressive, malignant brain tumor) this past November.  What I find simply amazing about Matt is his attitude.  He’s just a little bit older than me, has three kids, a lovely wife, and is the pastor of an incredibly successful and rapidly growing church in Flower Mound, Texas.  By all outward appearances, the guy “has it all.”  Oh yeah, except for that whole brain tumor thing.  And yet, I’ve heard him refer to his illness as a season that God has “called him to.” He doesn’t ask God, “Why me?”  That’s pretty amazing.  I must admit that, all things considered, I probably have very limited experience with suffering.  I mean, I’ve been a part of a sub-culture of Christianity that will rebuke a demon for getting the wrong order at Taco Bell.  I don’t know if it’s a product of living in America, as a member of a wealthy society or what.  Maybe we’re not really taught about suffering.  In a land of “rights” and privileges, does anyone ever believe that it might be good, even beneficial to, heaven forbid, do without something?  Or perhaps go through a trial?  In fact, I think most people you talk to would agree that we shouldn’t have to suffer.  And yet we do.  Whether we should or should not is irrelevant.  We do indeed suffer.  Each one in our own way.  No matter what laws are put in place.  No matter what institutions are formed.  There will always be suffering.  It’s one of the few guarantees in this life.  As Rob Bell famously says in his Nooma video, “It rains in our lives.  A lot.”  It’s not about whether or not the storms of life will strike.  They will and they do.  Just because.

The Bible is actually chock full of stories of suffering;  deserving people as well as undeserving people suffering.  Sometimes suffering comes as a result of one’s own selfish and harmful behaviors.  And other times it simply comes to those who merely get caught in the crossfires of others’ selfish and harmful behaviors; they are merely casualties of injustice.  Other times, it just simply happens.  I’ve learned that there isn’t always a direct correlation between good or bad behavior and unfortunate circumstances.  We live in a world where things are not perfect, and yet we yearn for perfection.

So much of what we do is done in an effort to try to buffer our suffering, cheat death, get rich quick, and numb our pain.  But pain is part of the deal.  It always has been.

Now, before you go and jump off a cliff, I’ve actually discovered hope in all of this.  I realize that even through it all–through all the pain, the suffering, the hurt, the evils that this world sometimes throws our way–God is always good.  And He is always doing good.  No matter what darkness may come, there will never be enough to eclipse the light of His great goodness and love.  He is always there, behind the scenes, at work, weaving together all our messes to make a finely crafted work of art.  I feel as though that in this past year, I was allowed to see that first hand.

As I look back on 2009, I realize that it’s easy to be thankful, praise God, and find contentment when life is easy.  I am embarrassed as I reflect on 2008, when I did a lot of cursing, crying, whining and complaining.  I want to learn to suffer better.  Don’t get me wrong, I am not one of those flaky Christians who begs God to send them through fiery trials to make them more like Jesus.  Heyyyyyyyyl naw.  I am not asking for more suffering.  I am not a masochist.  I am not even asking to suffer perfectly.  Whatever that means.  I am, however, simply asking for God to help me suffer better.  In order to bring Him more glory, because I see as a sign of respect.  It’s letting Him, and those around you, know that you know that God will bring you through this.  Because that’s what He’s good at.  He will not leave you in this mess.  You may not come out looking all shiny and sparkly.  But what you will become will be something even better.  Something proven.  Something stronger.

The next time a storm comes, it won’t do any good for me to ask “Why me?”  I should be asking myself, “Why not me?”

And finally, we that believe in Christ have this blessed hope through our suffering:

We can rejoice, too, when we run into problems and trials, for we know that they are good for us–they help us learn to be patient. And patience develops strength of character in us and helps us trust God more each time we use it until finally our hope and faith are strong and steady. Then, when that happens, we are able to hold our heads high no matter what happens and know that all is well, for we know how dearly God loves us, and we feel this warm love everywhere within us because God has given us the Holy Spirit to fill our hearts with his love.  (Romans 5:3-5, Living)

God, please allow me the privilege of holding my head high no matter what happens, knowing that all is well, knowing how dearly you love me, and how well you will keep me throughout this coming year and every year after.