The other night we watched a movie that, to many, may have not seemed that engaging. It took a while for some of the plot to develop and get the back story of the characters, but it was endearing enough for me to keep watching. The title? Gifted. It’s a story about a young man named Frank, who, due to tragic circumstances, ended up raising his niece Mary. It depicts the struggle in which he finds himself when the tiny town in Florida in which they live figures out that, at the tender age of six, Mary is already a brilliant mathematician.
Soon a court case ensues, spurred on by her grandmother – much to the uncle’s dismay. The grandmother (and exacting woman who seems to have no confidence in her own son and his ability to care for the child), insists that she has greater wealth and influence in her New England hometown, both of which could be used to help her granddaughter achieve greatness.
As part of the court case, the grandmother’s lawyer digs up the girls biological father – who conveniently names her as the legal guardian. Frank’s attorney quickly dismisses the father as one who has no right to make that kind of call. Although Mary is nowhere to be seen during this part of the movie, Frank at some point decides to tell her that her father testified.
The news is crushing. She locks herself in the bathroom, hunkers down on the floor, sobbing. Her uncle and a neighbor friend Roberta try to talk to her (well, Roberta actually chides Frank for even saying anything)… but the words the girl speaks are haunting: “My real dad is in town and he didn’t even want anything to do with me?”
Oh…..how movies can bring reality to life.
I can’t say I understand what she was feeling. My dad has always been in my life, and I have always known he loves me. Yet I know that is not the same for all of you. I know that some of you had absent fathers, abusive fathers, fathers that may have been in the picture but didn’t care about entering into your world. I cannot even begin to imagine what its like, yet my heart broke watching that scene because what cried out from that little actresses heart was a question every one of us has had, at some point (and some of you more than others):
Am I really wanted?
What Frank does next takes a while to follow, as he gives no hints what he’s doing as they get in the car (even to Roberta, who he drags along for the ride). All you see next is that they are in a hospital, and that they sit there….. for a very, very long time.
Initially I wondered if Mary’s biological father might work at the hospital, and Frank was waiting til he got off shift so Mary could meet him.
Nope. Frank had something much more important in mind.
You see, Frank could have coaxed Mary out of the bathroom, or waited til she came out on her own. He could have sat her down and explained to her that her dad didn’t even know about her, or that people are flawed and don’t often think about others. He could have sat with her in her hurt and simply acknowledged that sometimes people make dumb choices and this was one of them. All of those may have been decent ways of handling Mary’s grief… but none of them would have replaced those feelings of unworthiness with reality – and Frank knew Mary needed the truth.
The camera starts to follow the reaction of a family sitting near to them in the waiting room. The older man sits up straighter in his chair, and the women turn and look at each other, but it is silent so you have no real idea what is going on.
Frank taps Mary to wake her up, having fallen asleep since it was now the middle of the night. She scowls at him, confused.
All of a sudden, a young man comes out through the two doors of the hallway and shouts “It’s a boy!!” — at which point of course everyone goes wild and jumps up and down with excitement, hugging each other, eyes full of tears for the joy of this tiny life entering the world.
It reminded me of Luke 15:10 when Jesus talks about the angels celebrating over even one person who turns to God.
Mary sits up and looks at her uncle, who at that point leans over and whispers to her “THAT’S what it was like when you were born,” he says. In that moment, Frank communicates so much more than Mary realized she needed to understand:
You were loved from the moment you entered the world.
You were celebrated.
You still are, even if people who should care for you don’t…. Or never did.
You are worth fighting over
My friend, this is what you need to hear the Father in heaven speak over your life!
It doesn’t matter what your story is, or was. It doesn’t matter what you’ve done well or how much you’ve blown it. This is the joy God felt over you the day you were born, and even moreso the day you realized He loved you like this. He longs for you to find freedom from every lie you’ve been told, from every hurt that has kept you caged, from every wound that has left you broken.
What Mary does next is even more amazing. “Can we stay for another?” She asks her uncle….so they stay and watch until another family gets the happy news of the birth of their daughter. Mary practically jumps out of her chair with excitement, goes over to the family and joins them in the celebration, smiling and clapping for them. I’m sure they didn’t quite understand why it she joined them, but they welcomed her in and let her celebrate too.
This is the work of the kingdom, my friends. To know the joy the Father has over YOU, and then to join Him and rejoice when others find the same grace, love, and mercy for their lives. There really is nothing more beautiful and pure than watching the recognition of how much someone is loved by God wash over their lives, and to see His healing making them whole. Whether it happens in a moment or over time… it’s just flat out beautiful, no matter what their age.
So go be part of the kingdom: Find the joy God has over you. Bask in it, if you never have. Let Jesus bind up those wounds and show you how to trade truth for a lie. Then go share it with others and watch as God uses you to awaken them to His love. Its a lifetime work, my friends… but it’s worth it.
Here’s to more parties in heaven 🙂
Finding the Life 