Hungry.

There's been a whole lot of hype going on about The Hunger Games for a while now, and a few weeks ago I finally gave in and started reading them. It took me forever to get through the beginning of the second book, so I only just finished them the day before yesterday. Ever since then, I've been trying to figure out exactly what I think of them. They were certainly gripping and entertaining, in a grim sort of way, and I would like to see the movie. However, I can't get rid of this nagging feeling that I shouldn't just go all-out and gush about how wonderful they are. I think it's probably that they aren't wonderful. They're horrific. The pain and sadness and inhumanity encompassed in the story are gut-wrenching in the extreme. Normally, I would dismiss this type of book as somewhat entertaining but too pessimistic to be valuable, but I'm going to try to delve a little deeper.

***Warning: there are almost certainly going to be spoilers ahead. Stop reading now if you don't want to know anything about how the story ends!***

In thinking about the books, my biggest question was "what was the point?" There doesn't really seem to be much of a moral to the story, and there wasn't a huge amount of character development either. I mean, the characters do change and develop, but they don't grow from their experience, they're just hurt and kind of muddle along afterwards, if they even live. Eventually, though, I arrived at the conclusion that the point of The Hunger Games must be as a warning. A warning not to harden our hearts, a warning not to engage in nuclear warfare, and most of all as a warning not to get caught up in entertainment at the expense of our humanity. I think it's ironic that the series is taken as simple entertainment by the majority of people. Not many people these days think or care about the point, purpose, or value of anything that amuses them.

If taken as a cautionary tale, I can see the value of these books. If not, however, I would have a harder time justifying my enjoyment of them. I have to admit that I do prefer stories that have happy endings, or at least those in which some sort of redeeming value or revelation is reached to make a less-happy ending worthwhile. This book lacks either, and that's the main reason I have some reservations. From the beginning the reader knows that Katniss is going to have to choose between Gale and Peeta, or that she'll continue to be conflicted until one dies and the choice is taken away. In one sense the ending was good, because she retained the ability to choose and was not a puppet of the Capitol or the new republic in that way. But in another sense it was dissatisfying because her rejection of the inhumanity of the Capitol is incomplete, in that  despite her words to Peeta, her decision appears to be based purely on logic rather than love, that her only motivation is that Peeta's compassion and steadiness (assuming he recovered pretty fully after he was "hijacked") is better for her than Gale's fire.  Maybe that's all she's capable of after experiencing so much horror, or maybe she truly grows to love him beyond the scope of the books, but the ending just felt messy, incomplete, and strangely devoid of emotion. In short, it left me hungry for something more satisfying.

It also bothers me that people keep saying "May the odds be ever in your favor". Life may have been ruled by chance (not really) in the books, but ours are certainly not. Why in the world is anyone emulating a custom of a cruel and decadent society?

Prayer.

I've decided to share some prayers here throughout this Lenten season. I don't know how much they're worth to anyone besides me, but I think many prayers are meant to be shared, and if they touch a single heart I will be glad to have been an instrument in the hands of God. Below is a sort of meditation-turned-prayer on the Most Sacred Heart of Jesus, which was inspired by a discussion on the heart during my Philosophy of the Human Person class.  It's probably kind of disjointed since it doesn't follow my complete thought process, but I'll let it speak for itself.

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You who are at the heart of all things, help me to know my own heart.
Most Sacred Heart of Jesus, we venerate you because in You is the pinnacle of humanity, the perfection of the core of our nature, help us to strive always for that perfection of heart we see so evidently in You.
In Your Heart oh Lord resides the seat of Your mercy, help us to trust in Your infinite mercy and love.

My heart cries out to one akin but elevated beyond my potential.
In You is the secret of humanity.
Whisper this secret into the inner sanctuary of my true self, that I may gain true wisdom.
You are wise beyond all measure and Your will is absolute,
but it is Your Heart alone that allows us a glimpse into our true selves, as a reflection of You.
Oh Lord my God, take up residence in my heart. I yearn for the touch of my Creator, Lover, and Confidante.
Amen.

Hope.

At school there was always a lot of talk about how "broken" we all are, and while there is some truth to this, insofar as we are all touched by original sin and have particular struggles in our lives, I have always been frustrated by this mentality. People who talk about being "broken" often fall into one of two categories: those who think that people who are broken need to be fixed and go back to the way they were, and those who believe that we need to leave our brokenness behind and just move on. 

There is something wrong with both viewpoints. Maybe we are "broken", maybe that's what we can call that terrible unwavering temptation we battle everyday with varying success, but if we are broken we can't simply be fixed. We can't just glue together the pieces and be good as new. Because we aren't... we're better. We're new, we're different. We "break" like muscles, not china vases. With each little break and a lot of God's grace, we are built back up into something stronger than what we were before. Each sorrow, each sin, each trial, when properly treated as the opportunity for growth that it is, only serves to transform us into stronger, deeper, wiser people than we were before. 

And so we cannot, nor should we attempt to, return to our previous state or pretend that nothing ever happened. Something did happen, and maybe it was terrible, awful, no-good, and even very very bad, but somehow it changed us, and we must embrace that (there's really nothing else you can do anyway, so you might as well make the best of it) and allow ourselves to be transformed. And we will be. It might be difficult to see, especially for yourself (it's ever so much easier to see good things working in other people's lives), but the change is there. If you know anything about the Romantic movement in literature, you know what I mean when I say that the person who allows himself to be transformed by such experiences becomes sublimely beautiful. 

So don't despair... we're all mad here, and it's a beautiful, growing, fabulous madness.

PS- for anyone who knows what I mean, think back to the muscle reference and laugh... *poof*

Just Breathe.

A poem or a prayer I wrote years ago, still helps me ground myself, ironically enough.

Sitting here before You,
I think of who I am:
All I hope, all I dream,
What I can't and what I can.


I hope that I'll be stronger,
I dream of a new day;
The fact that You are there for me
Just blows my mind away.


For I am just a simple girl
And all I'll ever be
Is as a flower in the wind,
Swept away by Thee.