The Smurfs are Now Family Friendly

bannerI remember when the Smurfs first launched on television and the controversy suggesting it was not family friendly. Well, they’ve come a long way with this all-new take on the Smurfs. This Friday, April 7th, “The Smurfs: The Lost Village” will hit the big screen with a family discussion guide.

GuideThe guide will cover the following themes:

  1. Source of Our Identity (Ephesians 2:10)
  2. A Servant’s Heart (Matthew 23:11-12)
  3. Courage to Act (Joshua 1:9)
  4. Our Past Doesn’t Define Us (2 Corinthians 5:17)
  5. Loved Into Being (Ephesians 2:4-5)

Each theme has a small handful of study questions for families to discuss and its related Bible verse. Before heading out to the movie, click here to download the Smurfs Discussion Guide.

In this fully animated story, a mysterious map sets Smurfette on a thrilling race through the Forbidden Forest. Along with her best friends, Brainy, Clumsy and Hefty, Smurfette encounters magical creatures in hopes of finding a mysterious lost village before the evil wizard Gargamel does. This rollercoaster journey leads the Smurfs to the discovery of the biggest secret in Smurf history!

The film is made with a wonderful cast including Demi Lovato as Smurfette, and Julia Roberts as Smurfwillow.

During her journey, Smurfette never finds out what an “ette” is, but she discovers something greater. The audience also comes away with the understanding that when we cling to the source of our true identity and find the boldness to do the good works he prepared us to do, our greatest satisfaction comes when we give our gifts back to him.

For more information check out The Smurfs: The Lost Village website to access downloadable content, coloring and activity pages, the family discussion guide, and more free content.

This all-new version of the Smurfs is worth exploring and seeing how the discussion guide coupled with the film may become a new source of fun for the entire family. Here is the trailer…

Disclosure of Material Connection: I received one or more of the products or services mentioned above for free in hopes that I would mention it on my blog. Regardless, I only recommend products or services I use personally and believe will be good for my readers. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255: “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.”

 

Rich Culture in a Vacant Industrial Lot

Screen Shot 2017-04-01 at 9.03.30 PMThe richest forms of culture aren’t in the tourist trap destinations, but in the quiet streets where real people live, love and labor. I’ve traveled to over two-dozen countries where I’ve had the opportunity to step away from the tourist attractions and work my way into the backstreets where the nationals let go of their commercial facades and live their normal life.

With the great diversity in the Chicagoland area, I’ve also stumbled upon pockets of people living richly in the heritage of their family culture. Those moments are precious to me because I get a glimpse of what they face in their day-to-day lives.

A couple weeks ago, I finished work in Addison’s industrial area. The fastest way home for the weekend was driving past the older and more run down warehouses. Some of the buildings had boarded up windows and none had seen a fresh coat of paint within the past decade.

I was three blocks from a street that would take me back to my life’s reality when I noticed high-tension power lines overhead. To my left, underneath the lines, was a vacant lot with old rusty semi-trailers flanking the far side. The area looked dormant and unkempt with the exception of the lively soccer game being played by dark olive and lighter skinned Mexicans.

The contrast between the energetic players in the dilapidated surroundings compelled me to stop the car. I hopped out and hustled to the side of the lot with my video camera in hand. The tan and brownish grass perfectly matched the color palette of the rusty trailers. Bare trees and spindly gray bushes helped to confine the outer areas of play. The multi-shades of brown bricks at the neighboring warehouse where spectators watched the game framed my footage.

Within seconds the players and those sitting against the neighboring building turned their heads toward me. I acknowledged everyone with a nod and continued filming. A few guys played harder with the presence of the camera and a couple moved out of frame. There was only one woman on the field, and she displayed a great deal of frustration every time the guys passed the ball around her.

The youngest man was in his late teens and the oldest looked like he was pushing 70 something. The sidelines were filled with family members and injured players from a previous game. A beautiful woman surrounded by a few kids stood up and called out to me, “Would you like to play?” What a generous person to make an offer for my inclusion.

“No thanks, I’m filming,” I said and then turned back to shoot an incredible battle for a loose ball and an attempted score. The ball hit off of the makeshift goal, which looked like dirty yellow pipes bent in the approximate shape of a giant croquet hoop to satisfy any arguments of what was considered in or out of the would-be net area.

When the guys took a beer break, an eight-year-old girl ran up to me. She was inquisitive and filled with joy. I showed her how the camera worked and she took me over to meet her family. It was no surprise to learn that her mother was the one who invited me to participate.

The mom’s nickname was Chellie and she was a beautiful woman with a classy, yet effervescent personality. She spoke English eloquently, while humbly suggesting that her vocabulary was small. Chellie introduced me to her three daughters, son and husband. Her husband, who was injured and not able to play, took care of the little guy.

One of her girls shared an interest in becoming a doctor and our conversation revealed her ability to become whatever she desired in life. Our discussion meandered through several more topics as we all enjoyed getting to know each other.

I was surprised to learn that Chellie was a driver for the same company where her husband, brother and father worked. Based on how well she spoke English and how she carried herself, I would’ve expected to hear about a professional career. But then again, I come across very different than the stereotype of my job.

The best part of the conversation was sharing our cultural differences and similarities. And, thanks to a few Spanish classes at church, I attempted to say a thing or two without murdering Chellie’s language. Thankfully she was gracious and enjoyed practicing English because she speaks Spanish at home and work.

When I asked how often the guys played, she answered, “Every Friday after work.”

“For how long?” I asked.

“They usually play until 9 or 10 at night.”

“It sounds like a ritual.”

“Well, there is no changing it.”

“So, do you go home and make dinner or something?”

“Oh no, I never make dinner of Friday nights,” she said with a smile. “We go out.”

“I suppose that makes sense if you’re here watching them play all night.”

“Oh yes. Nobody here cooks on Friday night.”

My time was running short, so I excused myself and headed toward the car. I thought about returning to the vacant lot in the near future to check in with my new friends. It would give me a chance to share the final short film I cut together.

I hopped in my car, started the engine and reflected back on the various topics we discussed. I had gained a lot by listening to their perspective on life. I also felt a longing in my heart to create a story that could give the kids hope in a future that they currently perceive as bleak.

As I drove away, my heart ached for funding to create stories that might touch the lives of those kids. I need a miracle and I’m waiting for an answer. After all, everyone in the area deserves someone interjecting hope into his or her life.

© 2017 by CJ Powers

Lunch with a True Hero

JillA series of connections fell like dominos over the past two weeks that culminated in me being at lunch with two brilliant women: a ghostwriter (who will remain anonymous—I hope the irony isn’t lost on you); and, a true American hero.

Colonel Jill Morgenthaler U.S. Army (Ret.) shared several life stories with me from her father’s spy activities when she was a small child, to her being in the first wave of women entering the army (83 women on base with 50,000 men), to her facedown with Saddam Hussein. The battles she fought and the ones she disarmed were amazing to hear.

One of her many great stories took place when she was a Captain. The lanterns hanging over her strategic planning table flickered as the night breeze rattled across her tent. The sun over Bosnia had set and the temperature was dropping. Jill had little time to plan the strategy for the next day’s convoy before they’d have to adjust for the twenty-degree dip in temperature that hit every night.

Blocks representing each vehicle were meticulously placed on the map. The best path took the convoy through the village of angry people that hit the United Nations personnel earlier in the day. Few survived unscathed, giving her great pause when considering their tactics. The one difference between the U.N.’s team and Jill’s—her team was trained in lethal force.

But leadership is never that simple. Jill was under orders to avoid firing on civilians. Oh, they held the right to protect themselves using deadly force, if necessary. But the time consumption related to the myriad of paperwork that follows, forces all good leaders to avoid the easy way out and instead to focus solely on their charge. Jill was responsible and determined to avoid harm coming to her soldiers, the interpreters and reporters in the convoy, and also, to the civilians who might attack.

The next day, members of the convoy were jittery as the team loaded up the vehicles. None of them wanted to get beaten up by an angry mob, nor did they want to break orders by killing civilians. Jill found herself in one of those moments that required her, as the leader, to demonstrate what courage looked like to the people in her convoy.

The dangers were self-explanatory based on the attack the day before, but she reiterated the danger in a calm, factual manner, followed by sharing their plotted out tactics from the night before. When she saw confidence rise in the eyes of the press, she emphasized that the team would leave no one behind. Fear was replaced with patriotism on the faces of those in her care. She had a mission to achieve and it was time to set out and accomplish it.

Clouds spun in the air from the tires as they crossed the dusty terrain. The village seemed quaint, but its history of bloodshed squelched any comforting thoughts of pleasant villagers. The armed convoy moved swiftly through the streets with purpose, not wanting to give the surprised villagers a leg up on the situation.

After spotting the convoy, one villager raised a big rock above his head and ran at Jill. He made a slashing throat sign signaling others to lift their sticks and boards into the air and charge the convoy. She looked directly into the eyes of the man running at her and blew him a kiss. He stopped dead in his tracks. He lowered his rock with a stunned look on his face. His entourage also froze in their tracks, dropping their weapons.

The convoy made it rapidly and safely through the village without incident. Jill’s strategy had worked and her tactics were effective. No one from either side had been injured.

Who she was, what she knew and what she choose to do made a substantial difference in the outcome of that day’s events. The courage she called upon to properly execute her tactical plan also made a difference to the Americans in her care.

I was taken aback by how her simple gesture executed at the precise moment changed the course of history. Her use of courage coupled with her personality-enriched choice was sufficient for the day’s success.

© 2017 by CJ Powers