Minutes to Memories

We don’t watch a lot of movies at our house, not that we’re on some sort of protest or anything, but for some reason we just don’t carve out a lot of time for them. I think the last movie my wife and I actually went to see was that thoughtful presentation on life in the South, Talladega Nights. Sad, huh?

Well, today, our youngest went to a birthday party for a friend, and we thought we’d sneak over to the theater. But alas, nothing was playing (worth seeing) in the timeframe we had, so instead, my wife rented A Lake House. Now I know this is a chick flick, but I’m secure in my manhood. I’m not a big fan of movies in this genre, but I enjoyed The Notebook, so I’m open to giving anything a shot.

Admittedly, The Lake House has a weird premise. Sandra Bullock and Keanu Reeves attempt to date through a magical mailbox even though they aren’t living in the same year. That’s weird. I don’t care who you are.

Although from what I remember about the dating scene, dating someone who lived in a different year than you isn’t such a horrible idea.

But I digress…

It was a good movie in spite of the far-out premise. Jody cried… again (she’s seen this movie before). And I enjoyed spending a couple of hours sitting by her, movie or not.

I’m too analytical to really enjoy very many movies (outside of those that beg you to analyze them – like, for instance, that thoughtful rendering of life in the South, Talladega Nights). So instead of either simply enjoying the clever storyline in The Lake House, or crying my way through a box of Kleenex, it got me to thinking: I wonder how long one would wait for love?

I guess The Lake House reminded me of the story of Jacob waiting and working for the woman he loved (Rachel). It’s quite romantic, in a tragic sort of way. To love without any immediate gratification. To wait for someone.

It’s a pretty good sermon I think.