Wednesday, July 08, 2009

Where the Wild Things Are

When Lewis and Clark were sent out to explore the west, they kept a journal of their experiences and regularly sent word back to President Jefferson regarding what they were finding. Those who love history may find themselves jealous of this kind of adventure, asking what it would be like to explore the frontier again.

This past weekend, while waiting for Public Enemies to show, a preview for Where The Wild Things Are rolled through. I remembered reading this book to my both my kids when they were young, but now that they are at the age of not wanting to be seen in public with me, I didn’t have a good excuse to plan to see this movie.

Filmmakers are savvier these days, because they know that the key to making a movie for kids is to interest, not only the children, but also the parent who will be spending the time and money to take them. Toy Story made me laugh more than my two little ones.

The hook, it seems to me, in the preview of Where The Wild Things Are is the word adventure. It appeared over and over again, appealing to every child’s fantasy of being a part of something wild and exciting. Scenes of bravery, battle and heroic quest imagined through the eyes of a pajama wearing boy. I leaned over to Karen and said, “This is not a kid’s movie. It’s for their parents.

Every adult was once a child, and some things we never grow out of, and I believe adventure is one of those urges. But like most longings, we fail to see the true meaning of their fulfillment. Hitchhiking across country, having an affair or playing the craps table may sound and even feel thrilling, but what is left at the end of the exploit?

Is there a frontier any longer? GoogleEarth can take us anywhere on the planet, and its not likely that you or I are going on a space mission any time soon. So where is adventure? Where are the new places to explore? Where do we go from here?

Maybe it has nothing to do with a physical destination, but more about taking a step of faith? Lewis and Clark had the Great Northwest to find, but it also took faith on their part to go there, to believe there was something out there to find, and that it was worth the risk to do so.

Over the last few years, faith has taken me on an adventure of both physical and personal discoveries. A restaurant exists now because of my faith. The Church of the Future is in better view, but more importantly, I have discovered myself more deeply. Terra Incognita has now become Terra Firma.

Now faith is being assured of what you hope for, and certain of what you don’t see…