In 2006 Mel Gibson co-produced and directed a movie called, “Apocalypto”. The story takes place around the year 1502 and follows a Mayan man, “Jaguar Paw”, as he sees the life/world he grew up in be dismantled and torn apart. It was a highly successful movie that met with mixed reviews. Personally, I liked it.
But there is one scene in this movie that has literally stuck in my mind every since I saw it. I remember when I first saw the scene thinking, “No way…”. Ever since then when I see the name of this movie, I’m reminded of it.
Jaguar Paws village has been attacked by an enemy tribe. The fighting was brutal, but try as they may, Jaguar Paws people could not defend against the enemy tribe. Women and children of his village have been killed, dead bodies of warriors who lost the fight strewn across the forest floor; Jaguar paw has been captured, along with his father, “Flint Sky”. They’re both on their knees, with their captures holding them down. Jaguar looks up and cries out to his father. You can see the fear in his eyes and hear the desperation in his voice. Then his father is pulled up to his feet, and as he’s standing there, he looks his son in the eyes and says, “My son…Don’t be afraid”, and with that, his throat is slit, blood flows, he looks up to the sky, then drops to his knees and dies.
Of all the scenes in this movie, that is the scene that I’ve thought about the most.
His son cries out to him, like probably countless times in the past. Countless times when he knew that calling out to his father would remedy the situation. Save this time. The last time. The last time he ever would have the luxury of calling for his dad. And what were his fathers last words? His last words to his son, standing tall, eyes fixed, his face calm….My son…Don’t be afraid.
Ya, I know it’s just a movie. But could you do it? If you knew it would be the last thing you would ever say to your child; seeing the devastation of your world around you. Could you stand firm in your resolve, offer one last parting piece of wisdom, be at peace with the situation?
First part of this year I was hit with something that totally turned my world upside down. It was unjust. Unwarranted. Was not deserved. I didn’t handle it well. I showed my kids a man they had never seen before. One that they had no idea ever existed within their father. I was spiraling fast and deep…into something I fear I may not have come back from. Sure, I tried to hide it. Tried to suck it up. But I’ve never been very good at not showing how I really feel. And….I had been gutted.
But I was given a light. A small, very faint glimmer, of something that pulled me back. A soft voice, in the darkness, that asked, “Is this what you want to show them? Is this the man you want them to see? Is this how you want to show your kids to deal with stuff like this?”.
Of course not. I wanted to stand firm in my resolve. To have the look of peace with the situation. I wanted to say, don’t be afraid. To show them a man they could be proud of. But I didn’t. I failed; and I can’t change that. I wish I had been better prepared. Wish there was a manual to have been read that gave me tips. I simply did the best I could with what I was able to. It’s not an excuse. Just the truth of the matter.
What I’ve realized though, is that the second part of this, the part that follows the devastation….the New beginning, may actually be something that’s more important to get right. So that My son, and My daughter, know that regardless of what life sends your way…you have to keep a soft heart. You have to fight to keep that, at all costs. Bitterness is a choice. You have to refuse to be bitter. To continue to give your trust. People deserve a clean slate. You can’t carry that baggage forward. You have to let it go. Be at peace. Allow yourself to heal. Be patient. With yourself and others. Continue to give of yourself freely. Choose…choose to love. Take that risk. Expose yourself again. Don’t allow yourself to be hardened and clinical. Allow yourself to believe…give yourself that permission.
Perhaps then, if I can do that…then maybe, just maybe I can give them that small sliver of peace that they can use when and if their time comes. And they’ll look back on this as a time when their father showed true strength of character, and it will give them hope.
If these were the last words to my children, I’d pray they find them well, and in them, they’d find the peace to not be afraid of what the future holds. I’d pray that their legs carried them strong and swiftly forward, eyes fixed ahead, with no fear.
Copyright©2019 Jacob C. Larson All Rights Reserved
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