Top 5 Movies

It always bothers me in ice breaker games when asked the question “What are your top five favorite (insert category here)” and I freeze up. Who can think under that kind of pressure?! So as I lay here unable to sleep, I decided to go ahead and come up with my top five favorite movies. I wish you could have been inside my head as I narrowed these down, but that information is too embarrasing to include! Ha! So, in no particular order, except for the first one which is my all time favorite, here are my top five favorite movies:

1. While You Were Sleeping
2. Band of Brothers
3. Pride and Predjudice
4. Gods and Generals
5. The Patriot

What are your top five?

St. Patrick’s Day

As I was thinking about St. Patrick’s Day yesterday (a holiday that I tend to care nothing about and never remember to wear green for) I was thinking about why it’s even a holiday.  I couldn’t remember, and I didn’t really care that much, so I didn’t look it up.  But, I did think about that mighty prayer that St. Patrick of Ireland left for us.  It is a huge gift for us to look back on and pray in our own lives.  I posted it back in 2006, but I thought I would link back to it today.

The Breastplate of St. Patrick of Ireland

Book Review: Desperate Hope

Well, this isn’t really a review because of the personal nature of this book.  But I wanted to talk about reading it anyway.  I wasn’t prepared for how painful it would be to read this book.  There are memories from that time, nearly five years ago, that I just wasn’t ready to relive.  But then, I don’t think I ever would have been ready.  For those of you that know me, it’s not going to come as a shocker that I don’t let myself relive those memories.  I don’t handle pain, specifically grief very well, so swallowing it seems to be easier. But this book made me dig in a little bit.  It made me remember.  Remember the pain.  Remember the desperation.  Remember the endless flow of tears.  Remember the questions.  But most of all, it made me remember Ricky.  I miss him.  He still makes appearances in my dreams sometimes.  He was my friend, my dear friend, and I miss him.  Still.  And a lot.

But, it was good for me to read this book.  Candi, who lives a much deeper pain than my own, did an incredible job of telling the story and digging out the beautiful treasures that God had in store through it all.  She did a great job of weaving the story in and out of the book, so those that didn’t know Rick would know him, but would know God even more.  It was very powerful.  But it was still hard for me to read.  Most of it I read in the bath so that at least I could experience something comforting with the pain.

Reading through the old blog posts at the end was unbelievable.  With each one I could remember reading it for the first time.  Where I was.  What I felt.  And trust me when I tell you that I felt it all over again.  It was a powerful time five years ago.  So many emotions, so many hopes, so many prayers and tears.  It was shattered dreams, and yet a powerful truth that Rick was where he wanted most to be.  And I lived all of that again.  But it was worth it.  I guess sometimes it’s not so bad to feel things again, no matter how hard you have tried to swallow them.