It's a Good Day

Dear Erin,

When I was a sophomore in high school I came across this song:

I would not call it groundbreaking or challenging or particularly profound, but at the time it had a huge influence on my life. Particularly the line at 2:05:

We are all as happy as we make our minds up to be.  

I have just decided nothing's gonna take this joy from me. 

That concept blew my mind. "You can decide to be happy? I've been wasting so much time!"

I think the thing that many people don't realize is the thing you hit right on the head in your last post: happiness takes WORK. You must pursue it, knock it down, and drag it into submission. As Ze Frank puts it, you've gotta "chase that happy."

I suppose I'm using the concepts of happiness and contentment interchangeably here, but that's not appropriate. They are, after all, two very different things. And then there's a third concept: joy. When Paul describes the fruits of the spirit in Galatians he lists "joy" as the second. Not happiness, not contentment, but joy. I'd be curious to hear your thoughts on the difference in meaning between the three words. I'm not quite sure myself.

There's this book I've been meaning to read called Stumbling On Happiness. It's been sitting on my shelf for a while but I just haven't gotten into it. Would you be at all interested in reading it with me? We could make it a bit of a blog project, maybe sharing what we've learned from each chapter each week. If you are interested let me know!

Where does the idea that 25 is old come from? I say that because I've heard it from many sources and it baffles me. I feel so inexcusably, irreparably young. My well of experience is so shallow I feel I have nothing to draw on when it comes to making decisions. Perhaps that is a good thing. It forces me to rely on God's wisdom and not my own. And yet I'm still envious when those my age and younger are so able to make confident and well thought-out decisions while I'm left feeling overwhelmed and confused. I crave wisdom and worry age is the only thing that will bring it.

After writing that last paragraph I searched for Bible verses on wisdom. I generally don't like to pick verses out without context, but this one really hit me:

If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask God, who gives generously to all without reproach, and it will be given him. -James 1:5

Well. I guess that shuts me up.

Thank you for the music recommendation! I have come across Andrew Peterson from time to time in my searches but have never looked at him too closely. I will have to remedy that!

I hope life is well for you, my dear.

Love always,

Amy

Big Fish. Giant Ones.

Hi Amy!

Funny that you should mention fish because I am feeling like Andy Samberg in a room full of giant ones. Yeah, I know I've used that line before, but I'm calling it a classic. Perennial. I'm just gonna keep bringin' it back.

Why, you ask, do I feel like Andy Samberg in a room full of giant fish? My dear friend, it is because I have discovered the Secret to Living Well. (Hint: it has nothing to do with eating dessert first, although that helps.)

Did you know that only a small portion of our overall happiness is directly related to circumstance? And that a much larger portion is directly related to an intent to feel happy? I happened upon this information in a documentary I was watching the other night called Happy, and I've included this lovely pie chart complete with cited source just in case you thought I was making this stuff up.

You're probably asking, Erin, what does any of this have to do with fish? Well, I will tell you! I have discovered tangentially that fish enjoy pie, especially in the form of charts. Furthermore, upon closer research, I have unearthed that pie charts about happiness are most likely to attract fish. In sum, if we collect all the pie charts about happiness and bring them on down to the pond, we'll catch enough fish to make dinners for a week!

NO.

Um, that's lie. What I did discover is that when I spend more time in dialogue with God about the good gifts He has provided--i.e.: appreciating what I have--I spend less time despairing for the things I don't have yet. Intentional Contentment! I think Priscilla Shirer described the phenomenon well when she said:

Contentment is the equilibrium between the enjoyment of life now and the anticipation of what is to come. Contentment serves as a guard against desires gone wild. It is the key to unlock you from the bondage of unrestrained longing that wells up in your heart and inevitably begins to control your life, making you a slave to what you don't have instead of a fully engaged participant in what you do.

I haven't stopped hoping for the future yet, for there are so many good things to come, but it occurred to me that, at 25, my life is just beginning. I think in a culture in which youth is valued above most else, 25 can seem pretty old. But 25 is young! I am newly married. Newly employed. Newly engaged in God's purposes. This is not a time for despair; it is a time for celebration!

Okay. That is enough. Enough celebration. On to the next topic.

Christian music: Have you ever listened to Andrew Peterson? I think you would like him.

Amy: Droppin' the Ball Since 1987

Dear Erin,

There are many things I'm writing about these days. The vast majority of them are on topics I'm not too interested in. Gout is coming up a lot. I'd imagine it's not much fun to experience gout. It's sure not much fun to write about it.

Sometimes my mind gets so clouded up by the things I don't want to write about that it's hard to reach in and find the things I do.

Everything swirls, clouds over. I'm eight years old, reaching for the sunfish in the lake at my grandfather's camp. They're so easy to see when the water's clear, but once I reach in to grab them the ripples obscure my view and the fish darts away.

My thoughts are fish I cannot fathom into dinner. (oh Good Lord Amy what are you doing, just STAHP!)

So yes. I believe this post was supposed to be a poignant examination of how the hazy world of the mundane obfuscates the pursuit of the divine. Mostly, though, I'm just sick of writing about gout.

...

As if this post wasn't tangential enough, let's just keep on going. I'm trying to explore Christian music more. It's a tough search, and I have to say it's not going well. Every time I try something new I am underwhelmed. I think Rich Mullins spoiled me for Christian music forever.

And Your Grace rings out so deep it makes my resistance seem so small...

A gem I came across a while ago and continue to enjoy is Parousia. I don't know much about them, but I really enjoy their stripped down/acoustic versions of classic hymns. One of my favorites:

Parousia - It Is Well

What have you been enjoying lately? Any tips for a gal who's sick of the "Jesus is my girlfriend" brand of music? 

How is your beautiful life these days? How are the fish in your mind? I hope they're big and willing to chomp on any worm you dangle in front of them.

All my love,

Amy

Things That Are Not Overrated:

5) Hippopotami

There's a reason why that kid on the radio wants one of these bad boys for Christmas, and that is because they are AWESOME. They, like, dance the blues and fight crime by night or something.


4) Chocolate

You're a woman. Do I even need to explain this to you?


3) Video Killed The Radio Star

You can never, never watch this video too many times. This song is also remarkable in that every version of it is amazingly listenable.


2) Christopher Eccleston

I don't care if he did kiss off a career as The Doctor because he "didn't want to get stuck in the role." He had passion! He had conviction! He had a Northern Accent!

1) Re-imagining the same fictional ball scene 50 ways to Sunday and still having a loyal fan base.

That's right, you screenwriters of Austen, I'm pointing the finger at you. That's not overrated at all.

Why Squatting is Overrated

Dear Erin,

Please forgive my absence over the past few days. As you know, I'm coordinating a debate tournament this weekend, an endeavor that is taking more of my time and emotional energy than I dreamed possible.

However, this morning I found myself with some spare time, so I decided I would attempt something I've been considering for a while: barbell squats.

You see, I dream about weightlifting in the way a cash-strapped college student dreams of touring Europe. It's fun to study and think about, fun to dream about what it could do for your life. Is it possible it could happen in the future? Yes. Is it going to happen right now? No way.

Yet I'm an optimistic girl, so I headed for the gym determined to give it a try. It took me a half hour of wallowing among the Nautilus machines before I plucked up the courage to cross the basketball courts (past the twenty or so women in the senior's yoga class) to the weight room.

Once inside I was assaulted with a dizzying amount of weights heaped in corners and under my feet. Undaunted, I approached the squat rack. I could tell from my research that the height of the bar needed to be adjusted, so I unloaded the 90 pounds of weight already on it, moved the bar (wow, that's heavy!) to the floor, and adjusted the hooks. As I reached down to reset the bar, I came to the horrible realization: I couldn't lift it.

The idea behind a squat is that it uses most of the muscles of the body. Your legs, hips, core, and shoulders all work together to provide the upwards force necessary to move this heavy object up and down. Had the bar been on my shoulders I would likely have been able to lift it back onto the hooks. However, I did not have the benefit of the rest of my bodies. All I had were my arms, and they were not nearly enough.

So I did what any anxiety-ridden young lady in my position would do: leave the bar on the ground, quickly exit the room, and walk back past the yoga class (who could easily see my endeavors through the window of the weight room) at a pace that said "I am bold young lady whose confidence has not been swayed by this momentary setback" instead of "I need an adult!"

All of this got me thinking, though, about what we as people can accomplish on our own.

Not much.

There's an episode in Matthew that I think demonstrates this really well. It's a story you might have heard before. Jesus is healing the sick in a crowd of 5,000. They're far away from the city, it's getting late, and His disciples (and everyone else) are getting tired and hungry. The disciples (doing what I would probably have done in the same situation) advise Jesus to send everyone away so they could get food. Then this happens:

¹⁶ But Jesus said to them, “They do not need to go away. You give them something to eat.”

¹⁷ And they said to Him, “We have here only five loaves and two fish.”

¹⁸ He said, “Bring them here to Me.”

You know the rest: Jesus blesses the loaves and fish and 5,000 are fed (with much left over). This is a beautiful demonstration of God's power, but there's more to be seen here. Jesus didn't respond to the disciple's requests by waving his hands and raining food down from the sky. He looked at what His disciples had (not nearly enough) and said "Bring them here to Me."

"Bring them here to Me."

You and I, we don't have much. With all the work that needs to be done in our own lives and in the rest of the world, well, we don't have the power to do much on our own. And that's okay. Jesus says "bring them here to Me." Whatever we have - our devotion, our talents, our attitudes, if we bring them to him they will be multiplied through His power.

You asked for tips in pursing God as a source of meaning in life. I don't know how much I can counsel you as it's a task I struggle with constantly. However, I do know that whatever we can bring to Him, it can never be good enough on its own to be deserving. We will fail. It's our nature. This doesn't mean we shouldn't try, but we must be forgiving of ourselves.

I would encourage you to avoid leaning on your own strength in this. Bring what you have to God, even if you don't feel like it's much. The things He can do are far greater than we can imagine.

Now if you excuse me, I'm going to go never squat again.

Yours,

Amy

Unsatisfied?

Dear Amy,

I've noticed a trend in my reading habits since Mike and I were married: I have been reading fewer than 20 pages a night, and some nights I have been reading no pages at all. I suppose that might be true of all newly married couples, but it's something I intend to remedy. I've started tonight.

This evening, I began using the devotional My Utmost For His Highest by Oswald Chambers, and I was immediately taken by the first lesson. Chambers writes:

God's order has to work up to a crisis in our lives because we will not heed the gentler way. He brings us to a place where He asks us to be our utmost for Him and we begin to debate; then He produces a providential crisis where we must decide--for or against, and from that point the Great Divide begins. If the crisis has come to you on any line, surrender your will to Him absolutely and irrevocably.

I think I have hit a crisis point in my life. I'm deeply unsatisfied in my line of work, my lack of literary fortitude, my physical appearance, my behaviors and attitude, and even--at times--my relations with my husband. But most of all, I'm unsatisfied with my scant relationship with God.  Most days I wake up feeling defeated and go to bed on the verge of tears. It's not that I'm in any sort of real, tangible trouble. Our finances are in order, my job is easy and pays well, my relationship with my husband is loving and solid. I just feel...disillusioned. Like I've missed the point of my existence.

Has your heart ever felt so heavy that you felt it might break? And have you ever been unable to pinpoint why?

I think about college, when I had planned to transfer to Gordon. I wonder why I didn't. I guess it's easy when you feel directionless to imagine the direction your life might have taken if you had gone another way. Part of me wishes I had gone, but realizes that I would never have the wonderful things that I have now if I had chosen that path. Still. Having given my heart to God and then backtracked, I've come to a place where I wish I had never let Him go. It has made the road back to Him so much harder, and the mistakes I made along the way weigh heavy on my heart. And then there is the matter of what I might have become. I wonder that sometimes. Like Mrs. Hughes on Downton Abbey when she asked Mr. Carson if he had ever wished he'd had a wife and kids instead of becoming a butler, the answer to my question too is "I don't know."

I don't regret my life. I just feel...like there's something missing. Something big. 

And I think what's missing is Him. I've thought of God in such small terms up until now, but I'm beginning to see that my life has really only ever had meaning when He was in it. Out of that relationship grew self-worth, self-respect, opportunity, and friendships, as well as a deep sense that I was acknowledged and cared for.

I've fought hard for my little life. Fought hard to keep it afloat with bad relationships and bad habits. I've looked for love in the craziest of places--in men who used me and women who sought to control me. But it all comes down to this:

“Do not fear, for I have redeemed you;
    I have summoned you by name; you are mine.
When you pass through the waters,
    I will be with you;
and when you pass through the rivers,
    they will not sweep over you.
When you walk through the fire,
    you will not be burned;
    the flames will not set you ablaze.

... you are precious and honored in my sight...

I'm not sure if a lot of people know how difficult it is for me to feel precious or honored. I have bruises on my heart, the bruises of a little girl suffering from an illness that her family couldn't understand of acknowledge, the bruises of a young woman praised only for her body. And while I've forgiven and made peace, my heart has not forgotten that hurt.  I don't fault anyone for that. I just...don't grok that kind of love readily.

So yeah, back to the crisis point. All of this tiredness and disillusionment and hurt has come to a head in my life, and I feel like God is probably the only one who can make it better. So. My utmost for His highest. Dismissing the bad habits, unveiling a new attitude, and devoting myself to Him all over again. Through sheer Grace and a healthy dose of surrender. This time, I want to choose rightly. I want something real.

Any tips?

Bubblegum Pop (Again! More! Always!)

Dear Amy,

Again, you seem to have hit on just what I needed! In response to your awe-inspiring list, I have compiled one of my own. Also, 'grats on Lincoln Academy's success at their debate meet!

5.) Bubble Pop by Hyuna Kim

If you can excuse the blatantly sexual nature of the video, the song is actually quite catchy!

4) One Direction-What Makes You Beautiful

Okay, so, if having low-self esteem as a teen makes you beautiful, I was a pageant queen. Wish I had some handsome young men to tell me that at the time!

3) Super Junior- Mr. Simple

Dude, they can dance!

2) Britney Spears- Baby, One More Time

Words cannot express how badly 12-year-old Me wanted to be Britney. I had the skirt, the voice...if only I had the dance moves! Ultimately, though, I'm glad I grew out of it. For one, I enjoy my hair.

1) Hanson- MMMBop

I was going to marry Taylor Hanson. In my pop-addled, 9-year-old mind.

And THAT is all she wrote.

Love,

Erin

Bubblegum Pop!

Dear Erin,

I want to respond to your previous post in a bit more detail, but right now my brain's just not into it. I just got back from a debate tournament - a bombastic, draining affair full of happy teenagers and way too much coffee. Right now my brain feels like music. But nothing too challenging. No, I'm thinking tonight I'd like something a little sweeter.

Maybe a little too sweet.

Amy's Top Five Favorite Bubblegum Pop Songs

5. Britney Spears - (You Drive Me) Crazy

"Hit Me Baby" might have been the one that got Britney all the fame, but "Crazy" is the one that spoke to my poor, tortured 13 year old heart.

4. Mika - Lollipop

Fun fact: "Mika" is actually spelled "i-n-f-e-c-t-i-o-u-s"

3. Spice Girls - Wannabe

Don't pretend you don't know every word to this song.

2. The Jackson 5 - ABC

Does this one even need any commentary? 

1. Carly Rae Jepsen - Call Me Maybe

I love this song. LOVE this song. Don't judge me.

I hope you're having a wonderful weekend (and that your brain is in better shape than mine.)

Love always,

Amy

You Are Beautiful! (Really!)

Dear Amy,

How are you so good at saying exactly what I need to hear? There are times when I'm not cognisant of the Gospel message and its implications in my life. I forget that it's not just acceptable but essential to rely on Grace when I'm in trouble. I'm taking some time today to praise God and rest at His feet. Feels good.

Today I want to address an issue that has been weighing on my heart--literally! As you know, I've been wrestling with my weight for a couple years now. For those of you just joining us, I haven't always been a big girl. This is me, just three years ago:

 I'm the one on the right with the hideous, self-made side bangs.

And this is me now, a few short months ago at my wedding:

The difference is pretty noticeable, eh?

This isn't so much a post about how I'm trying to lose weight--I am, but that's not relevant. Nor is this a self-deprecating post about how I dislike the 60 pounds I've packed on in the last two years. 

This is a celebratory post.

I think that we, as women, put a lot of emphasis on our size. Our sense of beauty is so wrapped up in fitting into those size two jeans or that mini-dress. We watch our calorie intake and beat up on ourselves when we overshoot. Many of us develop eating disorders. I'm not saying that wanting to be small is bad. What I'm saying Tim Keller already said better: 

We, as human beings, take good things and turn them into ultimate things.

That's a paraphrase, but whatever. Being skinny is great if you're in good physical shape. But making it the goal of our lives--evenly unconsciously--is to miss the point entirely. It's taking something that is good and turning it into something ultimate. It's time we started celebrating our beautiful bodies for the shape and size they are at that time. God gave us ALL beautiful bodies so that we could rejoice in them!

There are honestly times when I love how I look. I love the softness. I love the curves. Every fold and stretch mark. And I think that's a good thing. It's a feeling I want to achieve more often. We talked about New Year's Resolutions a couple posts ago, right? Well, this year, I want to wake up each morning and celebrate my body for the way it looks on that day. As I grow smaller, I want to remember that, even at my biggest, I was celebrated!

Your move, Circus Time.

Love,
Erin

Adventure Circus Time?

Dear Mrs. Circus Time

It's funny you bring up the fear of not being good enough. It's a fear I've also been struggling with lately, hence my quick reaction to your last post. My fingers want to type the words "there's no simple answer to this" but that's a cop out I use far too often. There is a simple answer.

Of course we'll never be good enough.

Ouch

That's kind of the point though, isn't it? If we could be good enough there would be no reason for Christ's sacrifice  If we were perfect why would we need a God whose grace and forgiveness far surpasses anything we can understand?

I like what Paul has to say in 2 Corinthians 12:

⁹ And He said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore most gladly I will rather boast in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.

Letting God in does not magically make you the person He desires for you to be. But that's okay. When we fail (as I do so often) and when we are weak (as I so often am) God's grace covers us. 

God's understanding of the things we can give to Him is much deeper than our own. He created us, He knows what we are capable of. By seeking Him He will reveal to us all that we are meant to be. Not right away, and not without much stumbling, but gradually.

To close, I'll leave you with this. Irreverent, perhaps, but I think it makes for a pretty good mantra.

It's okay to not be good at something right away. It's just the first step of a longer journey.

Yours,

Amy

Half-Resolutions

Dear "Circus Time,"

(Oh man. That Circus Time bit just never gets old! Well, we'll see about that in a couple of days.)

I've been thinking a lot about my half-resolutions in the past few hours--you know, the resolutions that you can't quite seem to get yourself to make because you know you'll fall short of the mark?

The way I see it, I'm the Perpetual Seeker. Always looking for God but never really quite being able to let myself find Him. This year, I half-resolved to spend more time in prayer. To spend more time seeking His face. I can't tell you why I'm so afraid to do it. Maybe because I know that I couldn't continue on as I am if I finally let Him in?

Maybe you can shed some light?

I doubt that my problem amounts to not wanting Him. You see, I have a kind of complex. I can't let myself do anything I know I'll fail at initially. And I'm terrified of being a terrible disciple. Terrified that my best will not be enough. Every time I slip up--missing church, having a glass too much wine, getting testy with my husband--it just seems like evidence that I'll never be good enough.

If I did let Him in, would any of that change? Would I magically become the kind of person God desires me to be? Or I am short-sighted in believing that more is required of me than I can give?

Does my honesty offend you?

Any advice you have to offer would be most welcome, Dear Abby.

Yours,
Erin "Circus Time" Brown-Ackerson

New Year's Resolutions? What are those?!

Dear Amy,

I had resolved to do three things this year:

1) Eat three fruits and three vegetables per day
2) Exercise five times a week for at least 20 minutes
3) Drink less wine

I have done none of those things.

(I guess I also kind of half resolved to spend more time in prayer, but that's a problem all of its own. Half resolutions, I mean. Not spending time in prayer.)

(And I haven't done that either, by the way.)

This is how my New Year's Resolutions have played out in reverse order:

3)When I woke up in 2013, my table had magically transformed into a wine cellar. Suddenly I had myriad cheap wines at my disposal! So, naturally, I have been picking them off a couple glasses at a time. Because God forbid I ever save anything. I guess the point to this story is that I have actually been drinking MORE wine lately rather than less.

2) HAHAHAHAHAHAHA YEAH RIGHT.

1) Chinese take-away counts as a vegetable right?
No, but furrealz. I ate three bites of a fruit salad (which I think might have been rotten) today. I'm pretty proud of myself.

I think you have the right idea. I could go for some McD's right now.

Childhood Memories

Dear Mrs. Circus Time Ackerson,

Terrible childhood memories. Don't have too many of those, but there's still one that leaves an imprint.

You've been to UBC, right? You know there's a huge, open basement underneath. One day after church I decided I would go down in the basement. This wasn't an unusual thing to do - many of the kids went to the basement after church to play around. I was perhaps 10 years old at the time. I raced down the stairs, flung open the door, and immediately fell over backwards, blood gushing out of my nose. Some boys my age had been playing kickball in the basement. I was foolish enough (or so I was told) to open the door right as the ball was careening in my direction.

Silly me.

That experience gave me an aversion to two things: boys in my age group and round, flying objects. I've since overcome the first aversion, but the second still lingers. Even now the echo-y sound of basketballs in a gym makes me flinch and cower.

In other news, today I realized I had gone all of 2013 (so far) without having any fast food. I promptly remedied that with a jaunt through the drive through and a McChicken. There goes that resolution...

How are your New Year goals coming along? 

Yours always,

Amy

Never Been to a Circus, Eh?

Dear "Circus Time,"

I am so bummed that I cannot access your link. The nicest place on the internet seems, well, very nice. We'll figure it out.

You have never been to a circus? Oh man. Let me tell you what you missed: exactly nothing. I was taken to the circus as a child--you know how I hate to write in the passive voice, but that's really the best way to describe it: taken. Or maybe dragged. I dunno. But let me tell you, the smell of animal feces has never left my nostrils.

I lied. This is what you missed.

Did you experience something so unpleasant as a child that you have not forgotten it? I'm not really talking about childhood trauma, because this isn't the forum for such conversations. Just something unpleasant. The circus was that for me. In fact, I'm not so much sure now why I decided to name our blog after a circus. I guess it seemed whimsical at the time?

I look forward to your response, Circus Time. And until then, I hope you can get this image out of your head.

You Know, I've Never Been to a Circus

...but I'm awfully excited for this one to start.

The hour is late, so I shall remain brief for now. Expect a full post sometime tomorrow. Tonight, I offer a contribution to the "More Stuff We Like Page." This is my favorite place on the internet: http://thenicestplaceontheinter.net/

Good night, my dear friend and fellow ringmistress!

"Circus Time"

Guess what Amy! Google+ doesn't believe that our joint nickname is "Circus Time!" They have denied my humble supplications to bestow upon us what is none other than our birthright! Well, jokes on you, Google+ because from now on I'm referring to the receiver of this post as Amy "Circus Time" Leland!

I invite you to do the same to me. Erin "Circus Time" Brown-Ackerson: it has a nice ring to it.

Testing...Testing...

Amy? Are you out there?

Wow, I'm not sure I meant that to come off so "Are You There, God? It's Me, Margaret," but I think both of us can be grateful that this humble introduction didn't include any reference to menstruation or first kisses.

And BAM, there it is. I've done it again. I've gone and made everything more awkward than it needed to be. On the internet, no less!

ANYWAY.

I am currently up to my eyeballs in donated books. There is nothing at my job quite like donations. They come in sporadically, boxes upon boxes at a time (one batch even came in a laundry basket which we were asked to return, but that is a story for another time.) When they do, I am meant to sort through each one, checking the books first for condition, second for desirability, third for superfluity, and fourth for ISBN number to see if we can put them up for auction. It's boring work, but someone has to do it. Usually when I get donations, I feel trapped under the huge stacks of books surrounding and covering my desk. Imprisoned. Today, though, I feel different--hopeful, somehow, even though the work is slow. And I have been listening to this same song all day, which has contributed to my good mood and might help to improve yours!

It reminds me that God has broken my chains. I don't like to wax religious and stuff, but it's really true! I lose sight of it a lot, like when I feel overwhelmed by work or when the house gets a little out of control or when family problems strike --I get to feeling like I'm trapped in this terrible glass bubble that I'll never escape from. A prisoner in my own life! It's nice to be reminded that it's just not so. That we can be free from worry. That we aren't doing it alone. These are happy thoughts. More accurately, joyful thoughts!

Also, things that are fun: we got the new Maggie Stiefvater book in yesterday, The Raven Boys. I know what I'm going to be doing with my weekend! (And also watching The Hobbit, which I've heard was not as spectacular as LoTR and doesn't merit three movies.) Reviews to come!