Why do kids like Harry Potter?

I was watching the first Harry Potter movie today (yes, I'm a nerd) and remembering when my mom first brought home the books for my brother and I to read. I was fourteen and Jason was eleven. He read them first. I remember asking him how he liked them and he replied, "I want to BE Harry Potter." I was horrified because this was the same time that the whole witchcraft/magic/this-is-sinful debate began. Then I read the books myself, and understood a little better. Of course, what child doesn't imagine what it would be like to be invisible or to fly? But it's not just that. There's something appealing about Harry's world that's about more than just spells and magic. I realized today that Harry's world just isn't...safe. Having the most evil wizard in the world as one's mortal enemy certainly doesn't help, but even just daily life for the students at Hogwarts is a series of potential accidents. Staircases move without warning, spells blow up in their faces, dangerous magical creatures run around loose, and sports are played hundreds of feet in the air. Harry's teachers certainly don't want any serious harm to befall him or the other students. But they also don't go out of their way to minimize all of it. A world of unpredictable magic, dangers, and enemies is also a world full of untapped potential and adventure. There are always corridors to explore, new skills to learn, and new challenges to face. Harry's life is not boring.

Maybe by the time most of us are adults, we've lost our thirst for adventure. Most kids still have it. They want to be told "yes" more often then "no" or "that's not safe." To explore. To take things apart. To climb things. To blow things up. To be a hero. To test their limits and explore their potential. To become really good at something. To take risks and fail. To take risks and succeed. They recognize what they're missing when they see Harry's life, even if they can't fully articulate it. We live in a world that's medicated, vaccinated, full of kneepads, helmets, seatbelt laws, and health food. Our playgrounds don't have tire swings or tall slides. Our hiking trials are paved and have handrails. If anything hurts us, we sue its owners. If anything could even potentially hurt our kids, we don't let them near it.

In Harry's world, parents let their kids be exposed to potetial harm because that is the only way that they can really learn. School is about learning practical skills that will be used in life. Some of it is tedious book learning, but much of it is hands on life-learning. Life learning is hard and sometimes hurts. If children are allowed (within reason)to get hurt, and to get back up and keep trying, they learn that lesson much sooner. They're more aware of their own limitations, and their capabilities.

The other criticism I hear often about Harry is that the books encourage kids to break rules. Yes, Harry and his friends break rules. So what? I'm not trying to encourage disobedience, but there are a lot of "rules" in life that we are sometimes better off not following. Norms, expectations, "playing it safe," "going by the book"--everyone who was ever wildly successful was willing to step outside the boundaries of what was known or acceptable and take a risk. Harry and his friends do break rules and sometimes get in trouble for it. But they also learn what is really valuable and what is worth taking a risk for--valor, friendship, honor, goodness, and self-sacrifice.

Why do kids like Harry Potter? Because they want to BE him. And that is not a bad thing.

If you want something done right...outsource it to Japan

I'm learning in my "old" age, that I just can't be good at everything. I know, I know...it shouldn't have taken me so long to figure this out. I've always been kind of a jack of all trades master of none. And that was okay because I never felt like I had to be *the best* at everything, but I wanted to be *good* at as much as possible. Now, even good doesn't quite cut it. For instance, I'm really awful and most things crafty (crocheting, scrapbook, etc). I've never managed to successfully light a BBQ. I've pretty much given up on snowboarding. I don't know what to do with babies and small children.

Most of these things aren't a big deal, but some things in life are more essential. Fundamentally, I'm fine with the idea that I will need to ask for help sometimes. That there are things that I am just not good at or even (heaven forbid) incapable of doing myself. Humility is good. Learning to rely on others is good. The problem? "If you want something done right, you have to DO IT YOURSELF." This is so ridiculously true, it's not even funny! Other people--even so-called professionals--just don't care enough to do a decent job.

Case in point: When my car battery kept dying, I took the thing to three different professionals, all of whom told me that there was nothing wrong with the car. Then my dad--who has never worked on cars in his life and I don't think even knows how to jump a battery--figured out the problem on his own in fifteen minutes. FIFTEEN MINUTES.

I have a confession now--I have never done my own taxes. Last year I tried to do them using the free version of TurboTax, but they were too complicated. I spent hours, ended up in tears, and sent them back to my dad, who did them for me. This year, they are even more complicated--too complicated for TurboTax. I know that taxes are something that I am incapable of doing on my own. I am not good with forms and numbers--and the whole things stresses me out to the point of nervous breakdown.

But...I just don't trust anyone to do this for me. Even paying a professional...I just don't think they care enough to do it right. Maybe that's ridiculous, but that's how I feel. If I knew how to do it, I would be much more comfortable doing it myself. But I don't know how. I will never know how.

I think I've just lost my faith in humanity. I trust my family because I know that they care enough about me to legitimately help. Everyone else, I'm just not sure.

Where cussing can get you, if it doesn't get you fired....

The last few days have been pretty awful. I had jury duty. My computer crashed. I started a new (temp) job that I don't particularly like. I lost a friendship that meant a lot to me. Dealing with each one of these things in turn has been a complicated multi-step process that more often than not has been met with failure and frustration. I know it's going to get better soon. In the meantime, I've been trying to find good in every day. Here's a few things that I've come up:

1. Meeting Janelle for lunch on Tuesday
2. Not having to be homeless and sleep outside in a sleeping bag in the rain
3. My bus driver who decided to announce every insignificant location that we went by: "Ballard: Fred Meyer, Trader Joe's, LA fitness, Jack-in-the-Box..." Made me smile.
4. Going back to WSHA and having everyone be excited to see me
5. Accidentally overhearing a bathroom conversation about me, which included comments like "She's really sharp. Apparently everyone loves her."
6. Talking to my mom
7. Not being in Haiti right now. Wow, when I compare my problems to that, they seem so insignificant.

So, to top off my lovely week, I got a letter from unemployment security with questions about my "self-employment" (meaning the 2 or so hours of contract data entry that I was honest and noted when I filed my weekly claim.) They barely gave me any time to send it in before they were going to come after me for "overpayment" so I realized today that it would be necessary to call them today because the form was due today, but it confused me so I hadn't sent it in.

Anyway, calling them is a NIGHTMARE and you usually end up on hold for 30 minutes to an hour. Well I called on my lunch break and their call volume was so high that the recording would just apologize, tell me to call back later, and hang up on me--wouldn't even put me on hold. Called back a few times, tried dialing 0, but still couldn't get through. This is completely unacceptable. I actually have a job this week (which is what you WANT, right unemployment?) so I can't spend all day calling them.

Then I remembered this magazine article that I read once about how to get ahold of a live person. One way is to mention a compenetitor's name while you're on hold because apparently many companies record you and will get to your call sooner if they think they'll lose your business. Another way to get their attention is to start cussing. Option one didn't apply. Option two would be hard to get away with in a professional office. But another option was to just start pressing buttons to confuse the system into thinking you're dialing from a rotary phone. So I called them back and at the first menu, I started pressing as many buttons as possible. I got some garbled dialogue out of the recording and then bingo! IT PUT ME ON HOLD! Woo! And then about 5-10 minutes later, I GOT A LIVE PERSON! I BEAT THE SYSTEM!

Get out of the boat

I took this picture on my phone. I can't even express how happy it makes me. I've always loved boats. Someday I want to own a boat like this and maybe live on it. No joke. Anyway, I grew up with boats and skiing and wakeboarding. It's kind of terrifying--skimming along on the water behind a boat knowing that at any moment you could hit a wave go crashing down (which sometimes HURTS, let me tell you). But still, it's awesome. You don't get the rush if you don't get out of the boat. Falling doesn't matter.

Sometimes God speaks to me through themes and this one has been on my mind a lot lately. It's the story of Jesus walking on the water.

It's stormy, the disciples are out in the boat and Jesus is on the shore, and then suddenly they notice something. Someone starts singing, "oh here comes Jesus, see him walking on the water..." Okay, probably not because actually they're scared to death. But then Peter (Peter, who we love because he often does and says stupid things--things that maybe WE would see ourselves doing) says "Hey, if that's you Jesus, then tell me to come out there with you." And Jesus says, "Come on in, the water's fine!" So Peter leaps out of the boat and miraculously starts walking. But then, of course, he freaks out because, you know, people aren't really supposed to walk on water. Then he starts to sink and screams for help, and Jesus grabs him and scolds him, and they get back in the boat with a really interesting story to tell at parties.

Anyway, the point of this story, as I'm usually told, is that Peter took his eyes of Jesus and he shouldn't have done that. He shouldn't have doubted. But he still gets props for getting out of the boat.

I don't disagree with this interpretation. I just think it's incomplete. See, my problem with getting out of the boat is not that I doubt Jesus...it's that I doubt myself. I don't trust myself not to look away. When have I EVER kept my eyes on Jesus consistently? It makes you not want to get out of the boat. Knowing your own inadequacy. Knowing that you'll doubt. Knowing that you'll sink...

But...that's not the point. The point isn't that Peter doubted, or that Peter started to sink. The point is that Jesus rescued him. If Peter had been more consistent in his faith, maybe he would have walked farther, longer. But eventually a moment would have come that his faith would waver. We all have those moments.
We shouldn't try to put our confidence in our own faith. We should put our confidence in Jesus's ability to save us, even from ourselves. THAT'S where the faith to get out of the boat should come from.

Hope

Yesterday I made a resolution to hope in my dreams even though they are impossible. It's taken me a long time to get to this point and I'm not sure if I'll stay here, but I hope I will. What do I mean by all of this? Well, some corners of my soul need to remain my own, so I'll explain generally as best I can.

I feel like I have been suffering and it feels pointless and hopeless. What makes it even worse is that with my studies and everything, I'm also learning about how badly other people are suffering in ways that are much much worse than me. And looking at this and the problems of the world, it seems doubly hopeless. It should minimize my own small problems, right? But instead it makes me think that if there is no hope for little old me, of course there is no hope for the world. None of it is the way it should be and there is very little I can do to change it. Suffering, I get--I mean, it happens, right? Bad things happen, but they happen for a reason. The trouble is that I can't find a reason and God refuses to answer me when I ask him for anything--for help, for answers, for comfort, really just for some kind of acknowledgment.

I've been reading Job. I hate to my compare myself to Job. Job was righteous and he suffered inexplicably--I don't claim to be as righteous as Job. Maybe my suffering is a result of sin. I'm not really sure. I think if it was, it would probably be more obvious than it is. But anyway, I like reading Job and I think some of the concepts apply. Job's friends told him that he must have sinned and he should repent, but Job knew that he hadn't. However, Job did basically despair to the point of death because he didn't understand why so many awful things were happening to him. I realize (and my study Bible confirmed) that reason Job's situation was so hard was because he didn't understand why. If all of those things had happened and God had explained what was going on, Job's suffering would not have been nearly so intense. But that is the point. When we know why things are happening, we can weather it. Lack of understanding is probably the greatest challenge. God wants us to trust him even when he appears to be destroying us for no good reason. As my Bible put it, he wants us to trust in him for himself, not for what he has done for us. Ack. Ugh. That is impossibly hard. It might be impossible. I'm not sure.

I'm actually not sure where I was going with all that, but I'll come back to my original point. I choose to hope in the impossible. I know what my heart wants and no amount of convincing myself can make it budge. No amount of crying, feeling defeated, and just being wailed on by life has made any difference or changed my dreams in any way. And it hurts like hell, it really does. But at the same time, God can do the impossible. So I choose hope, because the alternative is despair and despair leads to death. Even if what I hope for does not come about, it doesn't make that hope in vain because God has better plans. That's the point. The hope is in God, not in circumstances and not in myself. I am absolutely powerless.

I've questioned my decision to hope ever since I made it, mostly because looking around it just seems pointless. Trusting God like that can't really happen, I don't think. I mean, it would take a minor miracle to trust God through all this. Which means that I will fail, but hopefully he will be there at every point of failure to pick me up and dust me off and put me back on my way again. I don't really know what else to say about this. I feel like a fool, but this is the only way.

How Long?

How long does it take to get over someone? It's been almost a year and my feelings haven't changed. The circumstances have--drastically. But my heart has stubbornly refused to budge. I don't know what it means. I wonder if I'm doing something wrong. Is getting over someone just a matter of time, or is there some magic thing I'm supposed to do? I've tried everything I can think of. I told myself it's over. I told myself to move on. I've tried being friends with him and it hurts like hell. I've tried cutting him out of my life, but even when I never see or talk to him, nothing changes. I've tried dating other people but I feel nothing. I've prayed over this constantly, and God hasn't given me any answers either. I never had the moment I was supposed to have--the one where you realize why that person is all wrong for you and even though it hurts, you understand why it had to end. I never got that. It's still a big unanswered question. I don't mind being single and I'm not afraid of being alone--even forever. But I'm terrified of forever loving someone who doesn't love me back.

The Walruses are Dying

Once upon a long long time...

I stood in a rainforest on top of a mountain in Costa Rica. It was damp and a little cloudy. During the climb up, the terrain had changed from grassy to rocky to a lush jungle with birds and trees, vines to swing on and a sleepy sloth hanging from a tree near the path, looking at us reproachfully. Before this moment, I hated hiking. Occasionally, my parents would drag me out on one trail or another and I would begrudgingly follow them for miles hardly looking at the scenery. But after Costa Rica, I couldn't get enough of the outdoors. On that mountain, I experienced pure joy and contentment--the kind that comes from time spent with friends, physical accomplishment, and marveling at nature and the God who created it. Since that time, God has used nature as a gentle and ever-present reminder to me of his power and his love. I have had days of driving around Seattle in tears and despair, when suddenly I'll come to the top of a hill and catch a glimpse of the mountains, the water, a sunset, and come face to face with the inescapable beauty of the world and presence of God.

I am not a tree-hugger. I grew up in a town with an economy centered around paper mills. I appreciate the fact that you have to cut down some trees for that. Progress means that you're going to dam some rivers, pollute some atmosphere, and step on a few paws for the sake of advancing humanity. I wouldn't put the environment over human security. However, there must be a balance. What a tragedy it would be to live in such a beautiful corner of the world and not appreciate it! The earth is here for us--not for us to exploit and destroy, but to use and treasure. There are ways to both use and conserve--to be a just a little more mindful and a little more careful about the things we do that are slowly and consistently destroying the planet. I think that we will destroy the planet eventually, but I hope we can make it last just a litte longer. A few more years of unspoiled forests, a few less species to marvel at before they disappear, a few more clean rivers to swim in.

Call me sentimental if you want. I'm becoming more so. Some time ago, I read a news blurb about the melting polar ice and the walruses who live on the ice flows. As the earth is getting warmer, the ice is getting smaller and the walruses are living in increasingly tight quarters. When something scares them--like a plane flying overhead--they all rush to the water and in their stampede, trample on and kill each other. If you had found me shortly after reading that article, there would have been tears in my eyes because the walruses are dying. It's hard to even explain why something like that moves me to tears and stories about war and human tragedy often leave me numb. Maybe it's because God has spoken to me so often through nature that it seems a little like taking a gift from him, throwing it down in the mud and stomping on it. Oh, and I'm guilty too. As guilty as anyone. Plenty of walrus blood on my hands.

This is really not a call to anything in particular other than awareness, and appreciation. There are always tradeoffs and we do the best we can. But once the walruses are gone, we will miss them.