Hello again! I worked on another film production last month (Surrender), so haven't kept up the ol' blog as closely as I'd thought I might so far this year.

I just got back from a well-known Christian film festival held in San Antonio, TX, where over 2000 people gathered to appreciate each other's months and years invested in stories they were inspired to bring to life on the screen, and forge or strengthen partnerships and teams for the next project down the road.

This particular festival has a specific and clearly expressed goal of publicly recognizing and honoring films that are excellent, meaningful, and affirming of Biblical values.

Our society has been deluged with a constant stream of media, to the point where many don't even pretend to be discerning in what they feed their minds, their souls on. Art and entertainment have never been neutral. Newscasters and filmmakers (the storytellers of our day) are not so much reflections, but rather shapers of culture around them, not only by the way they present their stories (based on fictional or real events), but more importantly by the sort of stories they choose to spend their finite time on this earth telling.

As the audience, we are also choosing who we will become both by how we ingest stories and simply which stories we take in. Last week at the festival I was greatly encouraged by the stories I saw being told. Stories that I believe will change lives, that will give people hope, and the courage to then participate in giving hope to others.

Two films I had a part in working on were screened: Indescribable and Alone Yet Not Alone. It was my first time seeing either one, which made it even more exciting. The two other films I had a chance to see (between hours upon hours of speaking with various filmmakers and attendees) were Return to the Hiding Place, which won Best Feature, and The Drop Box, a documentary which won two big awards: Sanctity of Life category winner, and the Grand Jubilee Prize for Best of Festival ($101,000).

I saw it at the Thursday showing, and in my opinion The Drop Box was well worthy of the win. (trailer: http://www.dropbox-movie.com/trailer.html) I haven't found it available for purchase anywhere yet, but when it is, I'm going to acquire a copy! If Return to the Hiding Place comes to a theater near you (next month or so?), I recommend it as well. The awards ceremony was fabulous, and the last portion was especially moving. Below is a video that will help give you a taste of it.

“I’d rather tell the plainest truth with $100,000 than the most sophisticated technological lie with $10 million or $100 million.”

The 22-year-old young man who made The Drop Box has a deep vision for producing media that will present Truth. Truth is not popular or politically correct, but it is powerful in the best of ways. We must study, prepare, work and pray to handle the Word of Truth honorably, in humility and reverence toward God, not mens' opinions.

Therefore, since we have this ministry, as we received mercy, we do not lose heart, but we have renounced the things hidden because of shame, not walking in craftiness or adulterating the word of God, but by the manifestation of truth commending ourselves to every man’s conscience in the sight of God. 
~ 2 Corinthians 4:1-2

Be diligent to present yourself approved to God as a workman who does not need to be ashamed, accurately handling the word of truth. ~ 2 Timothy 2:15

Stories matter, and they are worth telling well. Speaking of which, I'm actually heading out this week to go help on the script development team for another film. I'd very much appreciate your prayers for clarity, creativity, and wisdom as we work on characters, themes, plot arcs, and all the other strands that weave together to make a coherent and compelling narrative.

For now, I'll leave you with a favorite song:

Two weeks ago I had a lesson. It was a life lesson. It was a pottery lesson.

The potter I was learning from teaches sculpting. He taught me how to make a clay vase and then a bowl, using fine quality clay, a wheel, and a few small tools. He patiently demonstrated the entire workflow, talking through each step and explaining the hows and whys. Then he placed a generous lump of clay in my hand, we switched places around the wheel, and I began applying what I had just witnessed.

The first step, and the most important one, is to center the clay on the wheel. As the wheel began to spin faster and faster my hands pressed hard around the clay, keeping it in the center where the centrifugal and centripetal forces would work for and not against the shaping process.

Once this was accomplished, I carefully dug my thumb into the center to establish the base thickness, adding water as needed to moisten the clay. Balancing with my remaining fingers on the outer edge, I slowly drew my thumb toward the side, allowing the interior circle to widen. To create the sides, I crossed my thumbs for better control and gently pulled on either side of the clay wall with my index and middle fingers. The whirling wheel made the wall pull up evenly as I pressed and pulled the malleable clay. Shaping tools aided in refining texture and curve, or scraping excess clay from the base. From start to finish, this is called "throwing" the clay.

Finally, we slid durable string underneath the vessel in preparation for removing it from the wheel, and used a lifting tool to set it on another table to dry. When hardened some from air-drying, it would be ready for a last trim of the base and drawing the desired design in the clay before firing it in the kiln. If glazed, it would go through the fire twice.

On my second throw (first try at the bowl) all was going well until I got part way into the shaping of the walls. My pinching was not as even as I had hoped, and the instability this caused in the side of the bowl resulted in an implosion. My instructor wasn't upset; he explained what had happened, and gave me a new portion of clay to start over with.
The clay I had just mishandled was still usable, he clarified, but would need reworking (pounding, kneading, etc.) before throwing it again.

I was heavily reminded of the scriptures that speak of us being the clay in God's hands, the Potter's hands. I know how often I can get off-center, trying to pinch my own sides into what I think my life should look like. Alternately, I'll allow or invite others to mold me into how they think I should be, which inevitably leads to uneven, imploding walls. It is only by yielding once more to the master Potter's skill that I can be redeemed and formed into the beauty and usefulness He has destined for me.

This said, we are not promised an easy life, free of pain or hardship or sorrow. We are called to follow in the footsteps of our Master, who lived in sacrificial service to others, and obedience to the Father, in spite of opposition and offense and accusation. Jesus spoke regarding the abandonment and torment he would soon face:  

"Behold, an hour is coming, and has already come, for you to be scattered, each to his own home, and to leave Me alone; and yet I am not alone, because the Father is with Me. These things I have spoken to you, so that in Me you may have peace. In the world you have tribulation, but take courage; I have overcome the world." ~ John 16:32-33

The goal of our lives is to be transformed into the image, the shape, of Jesus Christ. Yielding to this transformation is both glorious and painful. But God is greater than the pokes and prods, yes, the abuse inflicted on our malleable selves by well-meaning friends, un-meaning strangers, and malicious "clay vandals."

"For I am confident of this very thing, that He who began a good work in you will perfect it until the day of Christ Jesus." (Phil. 1:6)

What follows are the lyrics to a song I wrote nearly two years ago. Some of my closest friends are dealing with extremely painful soul wounds right now, and it is to those beloved broken vessels that I dedicate these words.

The Faithful One
a song by Rebekah Cook

In a storm
When the lightning cracks 
And the thunder rumbles
In my storm
When I'm thrown off track 
And my dream has crumbled
I close my eyes and pray

In a storm 
All the windows rattle 
And the roof is shaking
In my storm 
Another fruitless battle
And my heart is breaking
I close my eyes and pray

I pray for strength to make it to another day
That when I blink away the tears
I'll see God's colors again

In the rainbow 
I see your faithfulness
In the rainbow 
Your promise is true
In the rainbow 
I see your faithfulness
In the rainbow 
Your mercies are new

They're new every morning...

On a cloudless day 
The sun beats down
I'm suffocating
On my hot, cloudless day
I feel I'm going to drown 
While I am waiting
So I lift my hands and pray

On a cloudless day
Becalmed on a sea 
Of expectations
On my hot, cloudless day 
Buried in the debris 
Of my frustrations
I lift my hands and pray

I pray for strength to make it to another day
That when you fill my sails once more
I've an anchor for my soul

When the wind blows
I see your faithfulness
When the wind blows 
Your promise is true
When the wind blows
I see Your faithfulness
When the wind blows 
Your mercies are new

They're new every morning...

In the darkness of night 
Lost in a drift 
Of silent grieving
In my darkest night 
Will it ever lift--
This pain I'm weeping?
I bow my head and pray

I pray for strength to make it to another day
That as your arms surround me now
I'll sense a glimpse of dawn

With the sunrise
I see your faithfulness
With the sunrise 
Your promise is true
With the sunrise
I see your faithfulness
With the sunrise 
Your mercies are new

In the storm, in the heat, in the darkness
Though near you sometimes seem so far away
Yet even in the midst of my intense confusion
Your love breathes hope deep inside of me

That when the rain comes
I'll see your faithfulness
For in the rainbow
Your promise is so true
When the wind blows
I'll see your faithfulness
And with each sunrise 
Your mercies are new

Yes, with each sunrise
Your mercies are new

For God, who said, “Light shall shine out of darkness,” is the One who has shone in our hearts to give the Light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ. But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, so that the surpassing greatness of the power will be of God and not from ourselves; we are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not despairing; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; always carrying about in the body the dying of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our body. For we who live are constantly being delivered over to death for Jesus’ sake, so that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our mortal flesh. ...Therefore we do not lose heart, but though our outer man is decaying, yet our inner man is being renewed day by day. For momentary, light affliction is producing for us an eternal weight of glory far beyond all comparison, while we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen; for the things which are seen are temporal, but the things which are not seen are eternal.  ~ 2 Corinthians 4:6-11, 16-18

Hail The Lamb
a song by Rebekah Cook 

Son of God upon a cross
Bled for guilt of all mankind
Bore the blame and felt the shame
Cleansed us for a newborn life

Innocence gave recompense
Canceled debt that drowned my soul
Healing rain dissolved my chains
Broke the curse and made me whole

Hail the Lamb that was slain
Who for our redemption paid
Hail the Lamb! Praise his name
Through his blood we are saved

From each nail a painful trail
Mercy flowed to make us free
His last breath sealed with his death
Grace that reaches even me

Sacrifice of greatest price
Love made plain upon a tree
Of our sin he made an end
“It is finished!” was his plea

Hail the Lamb that was slain
Who for our redemption paid
Hail the Lamb! Praise his name
Through his blood we are saved

Raised to life, now glorified
Empty grave proclaims his pow'r
He still lives, forgiveness gives
All who call this very hour

Lost now found, for heaven bound
Living hope of which I sing
There to be eternally
Loving on my Savior King

Hail the Lamb that was slain
Who for our redemption paid
Hail the Lamb! Praise his name
Through his blood we are saved

~ The following is resurrected from my journal musings of over four years ago. While I did not locate a specific date for the entry, in this case the time of origin has no real bearing on the content—which is as relevant to me now as it was then. ~

I reach through layers of slumber, past troubling dreams, and lie there, blinking slowly to let go of the remnants of sleep. The nightmare isn't true, I realize...and will my mind to stop churning.

It's early yet, and the birds have just begun to work their way through the Saturday morning repertoire. Some of the chirps sound quite close. Okay. I'm curious now. I work my way out of the bedclothes and get off the bed so I can look out the window. I smile, enjoying the sight. There are two of them, side by side, perched on the white rake of an antenna mounted on our roof. They have front row seats to the sunrise.

I love it when I'm close enough to watch their sharp, short beaks open and close as they keep the conversation going like good football [soccer] commentators. Regretfully, I leave the winged creatures to their melodies and retreat to the bathroom mirror to reflect on my thoughts.

What does it mean to have front row seats to a sunrise? - I wondered, drying my face on the short rose-colored towel.
It seemed utterly presumptuous now to assume that the pair of birds I had witnessed sitting above the roof would have a better view than those swooping gently in the fresh morning air.

And yet, did that mean all of them saw it equally well? Perhaps, though each of them has the unique opportunity to fully appreciate the joy of the morning right before their eyes—just perhaps, like us, there are only some who choose to watch the day's beauty unfold. Only some who acknowledge the singular creativity of this day's miracle. Who raise their eyes, their voices, their hearts, in humble thanksgiving and adoration of the One whose mercies are new every morning.

I am dressed now and sitting on the edge of my bed. I close my eyes, silently making my own choice: to play in tune with heaven's melody, to watch attentively for every movement of the orchestra Conductor's hand, and so live in harmony with the theme of eternity's love song.

May I remember this choice today, and always Today.

My faith muscles are feeling sore lately. That's a good thing. It means they've been used, and are in the process of getting stronger! I'm doing my best to keep my spiritual protein (challenging and encouraging scriptures) intake high so those muscles have something to build with.

This chapter in my life, as with many, has involved a great deal of travel. One of the advantages of spending copious amounts of time behind the wheel is that I get to listen to music to keep awake. My car is from a decade that used cassettes, so I have a stash of oldy-goldy tapes to mix in with more recent MP3s (via an adapter). Here are some songs that have been a deep encouragement over the last weeks:


"Uncharted Territory" ~ Rachael Lampa (2011)

Verse 1:
So unlike me, what's going on
I'm usually not the one
To be afraid, hesitate
Second guess what I've done
Am I over-thinking it, complicating it
Should I let go and let it be

Chorus:
Never done this before how am I supposed to know where to go from here
No prescription, no rules, no direction, no signs that will make it clear
Like the first man on the moon, Columbus 1492
Like baby steps, and babies don't worry, so why should I
Uncharted territory
Uncharted territory

Verse 2:
Sort of unprepared, just a little scared
Say go get it girl, grab a hold of it
Look inside myself, find buried deep
Patience; don't give up on me
Am I over-thinking it, complicating it
All I gotta do is do it


"The Plan" ~ Steve Green (1998)

Chorus:
I don't need to have the plan in hand
I don't need to have the end in sight
All I need to do is follow you, wherever you lead
And do what you ask me to

Verse 1:
Trusting you, Lord, with all my heart
Following you all my days
Whether I can or can't understand
I'll acknowledge you in all my ways

Verse 2:
Though I am pressed on every side
I am not in despair
My faith in you will carry me through
Though I may not see where You're leading me


"Crazy" ~ Mercy Me (2002)

Verse 1:
Why I would I spend my life longing for the day that it would end
Why would I spend my time pointing to another man
Isn't that crazy

How can I find hope in dying, with promises unseen
How can I learn your way is better in everything I'm taught to be
Isn't that crazy

Chorus:
I have not been called to the wisdom of this world
But to a God who's calling out to me
And even though the world may think
I'm losing touch with reality
It would be crazy
To choose this world over eternity

Verse 2:
And if I boast let me boast of filthy rags made clean
And if I glory let me glory in my Savior's suffering
Isn't that crazy

And as I live this daily life I trust you for everything
And I will only take a step when I feel You leading me
Isn't that crazy

Chorus:
I have not been called to the wisdom of this world
But to a God who is calling out to me And even though the world my think
I'm losing touch with reality
It would be crazy
To choose this world over eternity

You can call me crazy...

:-)