The King's Speech

jane: I've been thinking about the movie Rich and I viewed two weeks ago, The King's Speech, starring Colin Firth (oh, Mr. Darcy!). First of all, we both loved the flick – and for Rich to love a movie (and even recommend it to others), that says a lot. I think the film merits its Oscar buzz; Colin Firth as England's Prince Albert-turned-King George VI is outstanding. And I loved Helena Bonham Carter's turn as Elizabeth, the Queen Mother, mother of Queen Elizabeth II. I'll be interested to see how well it does during Sunday's Golden Globes award ceremony.

The movie revolves around Prince Albert, son of ailing King George V. Albert, known by intimates as "Bertie," suffered from a stutter that rendered him incapable of utilizing the power of radio broadcasts (“the wireless”) to communicate with his subjects. Then his father dies and his brother, King Edward VIII, abdicates to marry American divorcee Wallis Simpson, and the stutterer is thrust onto the throne of a nation poised for war against Hitler.

As we discussed the film, Rich observed that anyone who's struggled with any type of physical or emotional impediment, no matter how slight, could relate to Prince Albert's fear and frustration when having to "step up." I remembered how as a child I was very self-conscious about being pigeon-toed. Not to mention terribly shy. Even today, at the thought of public speaking, I tremble. How about you, Betsey?

betsey: Well, first, I really want to see the film. I remember Colin Firth in Bridget Jones’s Diary, where he played the quiet-but-decent guy, as opposed to charming cad Hugh Grant (of course). He’s supposed to be amazing in this. And for me, I love public speaking – BUT I do struggle with introversion. Not that that’s a handicap, exactly, but in some settings it is. I used to be pretty socially awkward. I’m not anymore, but every now and then I can still feel like that person standing behind the potted palm.


jane: One of this movie's most inspiring aspects is the unconventional relationship betweeen a king and a commoner. That led to King George's ability finally to control his stammer. It was washed-up Australian actor Lionel Logue, portrayed by Geoffrey Rush, who helped Albert regain both his voice and his confidence. How powerfully this demonstrates the way friendship can help us overcome challenges or fears.


betsey: Absolutely. Everything from walking with someone through an addiction struggle to a simple “you’re really good at . . .” But it’s an art, to affirm while at the same time encouraging someone to overcome something.

jane: Lionel Logue had no credentials; his “speech therapy” techniques were birthed from aiding impaired, shell-shocked soldiers who couldn't talk about what they'd seen in war. What Lionel provided, in many ways, was that all-important open heart and listening ear.

betsey: From what I know of the story, one of the most remarkable elements of their friendship was that Logue dared to befriend the prince – to cross a forbidden line. I think there’s a lesson right there. It’s easy for me to go the extra mile for someone like, well, you – but how often do I befriend, let alone truly invest in, someone outside my comfortable circles?

jane: That deserves some serious thought. Plus, the king had to forsake his trappings of royalty and formality (defense mechanisms) to overcome stuttering, while Lionel had to remain doggedly determined, steadfast in the face of regal resistance. There's a lesson there, too, about

comfort zones and persistence and being present, even when it isn't easy.

Most people's problems aren't as obvious as Bertie's awkward stammer. But they're still there, some impediment of pain or hurt or fear waiting for a Lionel Logue to invest the time and attention needed for healing. So when I take the time to listen and then speak from a caring heart guided by God's truth and wisdom, I'm using The King's Speech, too!

A New Year, in Which Betsey and Jane Learn to Dance More

betsey: Jane, it seems amazing to me that it’s 2011. There’s something so hopeful and promising about this time. You clear out the Christmas clutter, you clean out a drawer, you put up the new bird calendar or whatever you got. And you start reflecting on what you might want the year to look like.

I know this has been a hard season for you. But do you find yourself being reflective around this time of year?

jane: My holiday season has been an unusually difficult one, Betsey, since we lost my sister-in-law to cancer the day after Christmas. That week, 

in the ICU waiting room of a downtown Detroit hospital, I started some serious “soul work” for the coming year.

Losing a loved one – even when you know she's in heaven – makes you reassess your mortality and the way you live your life.

But as far as the typical New Year's resolutions go, well, I gave that up a long time ago. I found I set myself up for certain failure, especially when it involved promises about diet, weight loss, and reading the Bible through in a year.

betsey: I hear that! But, as I said, there’s something about January. . . . On New Year’s Day Fritz and I sat down with pen and yellow pad and wrote down what we’re calling “commitments” – starting with the spiritual and scriptural foundations for those commitments. It felt good to start with the “main thing.” But tell me more about your “soul work.”

jane: My sister-in-law was known by so many as a woman who loved God and served others. You know how when you attend a memorial service and hear what others say about the deceased, it makes you wonder what others will say about you when you pass? (At least, I do.) So this year

I've asked God to help me do the things I do, write, say, think (even all my cooking, cleaning, and schlepping around) more fully for him.

Of course that's always been my desire, but now, I hunger more fully for that . . . to be more concerned about pleasing God instead of consumed by an all-too-frequent concern about pleasing others.

betsey: I like the idea of building on things that one is already doing, as opposed to endless resolutions that are impossible to keep. Like I want to grow my own writing projects – tend, nurture, become more intentional about this thing I love and know and am called to. And, I must admit, there are some of the usual suspects. One big one for us is, get more sleep!

jane: Amen, sister! I think our sleep deprivation is self-induced, due to our lack of discipline regarding the two behemoths that cozy up to us every night, snoring and squirming and twitching . . .

Rich told me he wants our lives to be as exciting as the first time we met and as passionate as though it was the last time we were together. That brought tears to my eyes, and it still does. I long for that, too, especially after being reminded all too recently of life's brevity. Too often I focus on the minors, turning them into majors, when I should be sloughing them off. Instead, 

I want to become better at making my moments count, to take every opportunity to "dance" rather than sit on the sidelines.

That's something to work toward.

betsey: As you know, Fritz and I admire you and Rich for your ability to “dance” (even for Wheaton grads!). You DO a lot together. That’s definitely one commitment we’re making this year and, perhaps, a fitting New Year’s greeting to anyone keeping up with this blog: This year, get off the sidelines and dance!