Widescreen

I'm a HUGE fan of the widescreen or letterbox format for movies. I think the cable channel Turner Classic Movies does an excellent job of explaining the widescreen format and comparing it to the fullscreen or pan-and-scan format. In widescreen, the entire movie is shown pretty much exactly as it was in the movie theater, and it fits inside my TV set with nifty little black horizontal bars on the top and bottom of the screen. These bars used to bother me, but they don't anymore. In fullscreen, only part of the original movie can fit inside my TV set on the VHS/DVD, and it's blown up and slightly fuzzier than the original version. I used to be quite satisfied with the fullscreen format until I started watching my favorite movies in widescreen. Oh, my gosh, I can't go back to fullscreen. Widescreen has spoiled the way I watch movies forever.

For example, one of my favorite movie musicals is the 1982 version of Annie (NOT that 1999 impostor). I recently traded my fullscreen DVD of this movie for a widescreen DVD. I can't get over how beautiful it is. (The screenshot I snapped with my camera at the beginning of this post doesn't do it justice.) The last time I saw this movie in widescreen was at a movie theater in 1982 when I was a little girl. Then for years afterwards, I saw it repeatedly in fullscreen and completely missed all the stuff that was chopped out of the original widescreen version. Yes, the fullscreen does an excellent job of focusing on tiny details like the pictures that the orphans drew and tacked on the wall in the girls' dormitory. But the widescreen reveals major details like the fact that Molly was pretending to be a ventriloquist dummy in one of the musical numbers or the fact that Annie was standing on a chair while Daddy Warbucks was broadcasting a message to her birth parents on a radio show. I think the widescreen version is beautiful because it tells the clearest, vastest version of the story, even if I only get to see it on my medium-sized TV set. I think widescreen has the best movie perspective.

Perspective is extremely important, especially when you're desperate for truth.

"This He established in Joseph as a testimony, when He went throughout the land of Egypt, where I heard a language I did not understand. 'I removed his shoulder from the burden; his hands were freed from the baskets. You called in trouble, and I delivered you; I answered you in the secret place of thunder; I tested you at the waters of Meribah.' Selah." (Psalm 81:5-7)

I think whenever I'm smack-dab in the middle of a trial, or in a whirlwind of multiple trials, it's as if my life story is being told in fullscreen mode. Only a portion of the actual story is being shown, because that's all I'll get to see from my view down here. It's blown up a tiny bit out of proportion, it's a little bit fuzzy, and major details are chopped out of my peripheral vision.

But, in a sense, God wants to help me see my life story being told in widescreen mode. He wants to help me take a step back and see a clearer, vaster picture with the entire story being told. This version may be a bit harder to see because I'll need to squint to see everybody's faces on my TV set, but I'll be able to see the whole story, and it will be very beautiful.

Of course, this certainly isn't a perfect analogy, because God's TV set gets infinitely clearer pictures than a little widescreen version ever could. His picture defies the laws of motion pictures. I think maybe His projector goes backwards, sideways, and inside out, twisting its way through my history, present, and future in a way that only He can make it go. He knows my story frame by frame, and He knows what's coming next. And He can also change His mind about what's coming next if I ask Him to. And He can also repair the previous frames so well that He can help me forget that they ever played. And He's the Director, the Producer, the Executive Producer, the Director of Photography, the Writer, and the entire Crew during the actual filming.

So far, He hasn't seemed to mind whenever I crawl into His lap and ask Him a flurry of questions that completely interrupts His filming. Sometimes, a chick just needs answers. The wilderness/desert can be a very scary place, especially if you're not used to it or if you weren't expecting it. There's sand, wind, and very little else as far as the eye can see. Once in a while, you'll see cacti to drink from, or you'll get to hide behind a desert bush while you hunt for desert critters. Sometimes, caravans breeze through, and you're encouraged while they're there, but you don't know when the next caravan will decide to travel through your neck of the desert. The sun is very hot, and it's seeping into the worn-out holes on the roof of your tent. Your skin is redder and browner than you've ever seen it, and some of it is starting to blister and flake off because of the burns. It's natural to have questions. For example, how long will you need to stay out there? Why do you have to live there? Is God absolutely sure that you didn't do anything to deserve getting stuck out there, or is He just too nice to tell you?

So, perspective is extremely important. Having to swallow yet another mouthful of dry, crusty loneliness might start to get old. Lying on your couch while the suicidal-thought buzzards swirl around you yet again makes you wonder if you're really strong enough to keep swatting them away. Wanting to reach into next week and strangle your feel-your-pain caravan-therapist might help, but it isn't my therapist's fault. Sometimes a chick just needs perspective. And even though a therapist can offer a tiny bit, she can't watch my life story in widescreen mode.

My Father has a DVD copy of my widescreen story that I can borrow. Nay, I can crawl into His lap and watch it with Him. He carries a very nice bottomless canteen with Him that provides a river full of fresh water for me to drink out here in the desert. He owns the most soothing balm I've ever felt that cools down my sunburned skin perfectly. And His tent -- with its thick, sturdy, luxurious material -- provides a better covering from the sun than I could ever manufacture myself. I like it here in His tent. I don't ever want to leave.

God holds me safely in His lap and helps me make sense of that place of captivity that He rescued me from. That was a terrible place. The creatures there spoke a language that I didn't understand and that I was probably never meant to understand. But He's showing me His perspective of the story.

Annie tells a very interesting story that reminds me of mine. The little orphan develops a tough attitude at the orphanage that is run by an oppressive alcoholic who hates her. She is rescued accidentally by a workaholic billionaire who allows her to live in his mansion. He decides to adopt her after she wins his heart. Then her perfect story hits a snag when she gets kidnapped, but her billionaire father-to-be comes to her rescue, and then they live happily ever after.

Speaking of perspective, I always thought the 1982 version of Annie was one of the best movies ever made, and I've wondered why IMDB only gives it 6.4 out of 10 stars. Watching it again has helped me see why. All of the musical numbers are catchy and memorable, but a couple of them smack-dab in the middle of the movie do nothing to advance the plot. Yep, a scriptwriting class in college spoiled the way I watch movies forever, too.

Yet this movie version of Annie is still one of my favorite musical stories, even though the story isn't completely like my own. Like Annie, I was (spiritually) an orphan who was adopted by an extremely rich Daddy. However, unlike Annie, my Daddy didn't end up with me accidentally. He knew who I was, He wanted me, and He chose me before I was even born. He delivered me from the most heinously oppressive orphanage in existence, brought me into His house, protected me from kidnappers, and danced with me into the happy sunset. Yes, if you watch my movie in widescreen mode, you will be able to see a huge air-conditioned mansion in the middle of a scorching-hot desert.

"And if tomorrow I'm an apple-seller, too, I don't need anything but You."