Moms' Night Out review

Sunday night, when I should have been sleeping, I was lying in bed reading reviews on the movie my mom and I had just seen: Moms' Night Out.

I was a bit riled by the reviews I was reading. But first, a little about the movie.

Directed by the same brother duo that put out October Baby, Moms' Night Out is the story of a harried mother of youngsters who is on the verge of an emotional breakdown. Strike that. She does have an emotional breakdown. Her husband comes home to find the house in an absolute mess and his wife hiding away in the closet, holding an empty bag of chocolates. "I ate this whole thing." (I thought that part was hilarious.)

With her husband's encouragement, she decides to take a night off--a mom's night out with two church friends. But, as is typical with moms (especially when they leave their kids at home with their husbands), it isn't easy for them to unplug. And when they do, chaos ensues.

Basically, Mom's Night Out puts real mom life on the screen, throws in some action packed craziness, and ends with an encouraging message to mothers that you are not a failure and your job is important.

I also thought it clever that it leaned heavily on the current mommy blogger movement.

The secular critics though are obviously not stay-at-home Christian moms needing affirmation.

 USA Today criticized the main character for being a "weepy, complaining clean freak."

Is she a weepy, complaining clean freak? I suppose so. But she is human and real.

"Alyson ultimately realizes . . . that God loves her. Somehow she didn't know this before," reads the review. "Lovely sentiments, but Jesus might prefer that Allyson work on being less of a pouty whiner" (USA Today).

This movie was intended to affirm and encourage moms, and in order to do this, it showed the inner real thoughts of moms--the "oh my word, my kids are eating raw egg and sticking their heads in toilets and coloring on walls and I can't do this!" thoughts. I cannot speak for Jesus (especially when it comes to rating movies!). But, at base level, I think God is glorified when moms are encouraged to keep up the good work.

Another review calls Moms' Night Out "depressingly regressive and borderline dangerous" because it "peddles archaic notions of gender roles in the name of wacky laughs" (Roger Ebert).

I'm sorry, but can I laugh at that?

Or maybe it's too depressing a reflection on our culture to laugh at.

It goes right along with the review that said the movie "is really all about moms staying home, where, according to this movie, they apparently belong. . . . Allyson learns strict lessons about a mother's place in the world" (NY Daily News).

That is not the message the movie conveys, by the way. Rather, stay-at-home moms are the audience, and so that is already assumed, not preached.

And amidst all the other reviews, there was the man that criticized the movie because it didn't clearly present the Gospel.

Sigh. You can't win when making a faith-based movie, can you?

Like all Christian movies, everyone--believers and nonbelievers alike--will have their own opinion on the movie-making quality, acting, spiritual overtones, movie premise.

But this girl gives it a thumbs up.

By the way, I just read an article that quotes extensively from one of the directors/writers. If you want to read what I just wrote, but better written and straight from the criticism recipient's mouth, go here: The Blaze.

87: of mothers and children

Yesterday I called my dear friend, who will give birth to her first child in the fall, to ask if I'm less spiritual if I only have two kids. But before I could get to the point of why I called (and before she could laugh at my question and give a definite "no"), we talked about a few other things, and she randomly said that I will be a good mother. The exact same thing happened today. Out of the blue, another friend told me the same thing, that I will make a good mother.

I was flattered, but incredulous.

This year, if there is one thing I have learned, and learned hard, is that raising kids is hard. I mean, like, really hard.

I always thought raising kids would be fun, fulfilling, satisfying, my life work, spiritual, and to some extent easy. You have your philosophy of child-raising, and you walk it out. (And look down on all those parents who yell at their kids or whose kids are out of control.)

But now, after almost 9 months of teaching six kids...

Mother's Day craft at school

I finally understand a little why the Christmas Song says "and mom and dad can hardly wait til school will start again." I always thought that attitude was very unbiblical. And I suppose I still do. But I understand it better now.

I understand why moms get gray hairs--because I've grown a whole patch this year.

I marvel at my mom's patience when I was growing up. Marvel.

Moms must be some of the most spiritual people out there because their selflessness has been tested and tried so often.

I now see that homeschooling moms probably often feel like they're failing. Oh man, just thinking of how moms are responsible for shaping character, training their children up in the Lord, teaching manners, teaching academics (!!!), providing opportunities for fun, and building relationships with their kids--it's overwhelming! How do they do it? And do it so successfully?

My mom made it look easy.

I know I won't fully appreciate my mom until I have kids of my own, but this year has been an eye-opener. Thank you, Mom, for doing a rather amazing job at being the best mom! I hope one day I can do as good a job as you.

86: let it go and do right

Purely by God's grace, I think I've stopped holding onto the "This is what is fair and this is how life should happen" obsession.

I love listening to audiobooks and audiodramas during my short commute to work. Recently I listened to Into My Hands, the true story of a young Polish girl who helped Jews during the Holocaust. Horrid things happened to her. Things that were not fair.

What would her life have been like if she never "let it go"? I know what would have happened. She would have been an embittered, angry woman in her old age (definitely not who I want to become). Instead, she said on the audiotape (because at the beginning and end they included her actual voice!) that she did not know why God let her save lives.

Not why God let her be raped. Not why she was forced to choose between becoming an old officer's mistress and still being able to protect her Jewish friends or refusing him and having to force them out of their hiding place. She didn't ask why God did not allow her to see her family until 30 years later, after her parents had already died.

When I focus on what is fair, I begin valuing my comfort. When I value my comfort, I forsake the concept of "do right until the stars fall." I cannot hold on to fair and my comfort and still do right no matter the cost, because then I don't want the cost, I don't believe in the cost, the cost is unfair.

And pretty soon, not only have I resisted the sovereignty of God, but my basis of morality becomes shaky as well.

Thank God, He saved me.

As my kids belt out "do right til the stars fall!" with gusto during chapel, my soul is stirred.

Do right. Even if what I have been dealt is too hard. Do right. Even if other people are sinners deserving of God's wrath. Do right. Even if it's just not fair.

So, I'm once again asking God to forgive the sins of the school day, even though I'd rather not think about how I've failed. Because how can He change me unless I admit that I need Him?

So I'm asking God to fight for me and those I love who are being hurt. Because no, it's not fair, and it's not right, but I really can't change people's words and actions. But God is mighty and just and can mete out any consequences He chooses.

And, as always, I'm resigning myself (again) to the thought that my plans, and the plans of the girls around me, to marry (young) and have (large) families, may not be how life happens for us. And that when I'm 86 years old, I will still be singing that He is good.

85: why I have to go back to Elohim

Because I can be frustrated with turns of events now, whatever they may be, and blame it on this, that, or the other, and call it unfair.

And I can finally, slowly, reconcile myself to these events.

And I can declare that God had a plan.

But, if I still hold onto this ideal of how things should be

If I say THIS is the way things ought to be and reach for this twinkling star

And keep my focus on that twinkling star as the end all of happiness

SMASH!

Because happy wives can become widows

Arms ready for children can remain bare

Et cetera

Et cetera

Et cetera

And so,

this is why I have to remember to go back to Elohim.

It is all about Jesus.

It is all about His glory.

It is about Elohim sitting on the throne of glory high and lifted up, and the train of His robe filling the temple,

And all around Him cry "Holy! Holy! Holy!"

That is Truth. Reality. Beauty.

That remains constant.

That is the twinkling pinpoint that must always center my vision.

I need the reminder now and tomorrow and next month and six months from now and next year.

84: an excerpt from the "book"

I've probably mentioned it several times before, but I'm writing a "book." I put that in quotes, because I'm not sure when it'll be done, I don't work on it consistently, and it's more like me putting all of my thoughts in a fictional setting than "oooh, oooh, I've got this great idea for a story!"

So, here is another excerpt from the "book" where the lines between fiction and life blur. It's sort of a continuation from the last post.

And me? I was resistant. Because if I confessed Him to be enough now, then what of the last few years when my heart adamantly declared He was not enough?  To confess Him now meant confronting my guilt. Guilt that I had not been submitting myself to Him these last few years. I had not been trusting Him. Instead, I had been demanding from Him a reason for my singleness and the singleness of the many girls around me who had grown up only wanting one life path: to be married and have children. I had been telling Him it was not fair and refusing to accept any reply.

But to turn around, say, “ok, I’m better now,” and recommit my trust in Him? It felt like hypocrisy.

Did God have grace for those in pain, throwing temper tantrums, stomping around arguing without listening?

How embarrassing.

I had come to a crossroads.

He was healing the hurt.

He wasn’t even condemning me.

But He was requiring of me a choice. Whether to continue to wallow in grief over lost dreams and what to me was a broken life and family, or to recommit my trust in Him—not because what He did made sense to me but because long ago I had decided He was worthy of my trust.

The worship leader’s voice and the words on the screen struck my senses with personal meaning. “Who can grasp Your infinite wisdom? Who can fathom the depth of Your love?”

I couldn’t grasp it. “Lord God, You are infinite. And at this moment in time, I choose to lay aside my anger, my disbelief in Your goodness, and my grasping for You to change Your ways, and I submit myself to You again.” Embarrassment and guilt combined to bring shame. “Forgive me for how I’ve acted towards You through this.”

83: where were you when He created the heavens?

A couple of today's thoughts...

"Who can grasp Your infinite wisdom? I've been trying to grasp it, while holding onto disagreement at the same time. I need to let go of trying to grasp it and acknowledge that He is too wonderful for comprehension."

She stood on the stage, guitar in hand, yellow and white chevron dress swishing the tops of her bare feet. “The Lord has promised good to me.” Her voice took on the sound of personal meaning as she looked out at the audience, half smiling. “His Word my hope secures.” I knew her story. She had surrendered her love life to the Lord 15 years prior and had had no boyfriend since. Now she was in her 30's. “He will my shield and portion be as long as life endures.” I knew she meant it.

82: should my spouse's theology matter?

An acquaintance challenged me to let go of the idea that whoever I might be pursued by must have the same theological framework as me. For example, that people on opposite sides of the Calvinist/Dispensationalist fence can get along in a marriage.

So, I ask the question, how important are my beliefs to me?

Why do I feel like I must agree with my husband on these points?

Does theology matter? Does it matter in my practical, doing-life-with-my-husband, life?

I believe in a rapture. So how would that belief affect how my husband and I lead our lives? It probably wouldn't. (Though, I suppose if I believed that the church was going to bring God's kingdom to earth, I would be more intent on changing the world's institutions.)

Maybe it would take looking at each theological belief step by step to really figure out how each affects my practical life and why it needs to be shared by a potential spouse.

But what does it matter what a fellow believes about end times theology, about predestination, about a host of other issues as long as he loves God and follows Him with all his heart?

And, as modern day Christians, with all our denominations and church divisions, are we focusing too much on the minor points?

Why does theology matter? Because it is what I believe about the living Word of God. I am passionate about what I believe the Bible says. And why would I invite conflict by marrying a man with whom I disagree over heart-deep beliefs? How could I choose an intimate relationship with someone who disagrees with what I'm passionate about?

Should it matter?

Does it matter?

It does to me.

Why?

Because if what I believe about God's Word doesn't matter, what does?