What’s the last movie that made you cry?
“Titanic” was tough, “Gone With the Wind” was torturing, and “Love Story”, “Ghost” drained my sorrowful tears. These specific themes—grief, heartbreak, sadness, and powerlessness—are blockbuster material because they trigger deep audience empathy and a profound emotional release.
Yet movies are fictional, and my tearful days are long gone with romantic, sad movies. I am not in lack of material that grieves me to the soul. Seeing a dying patient in bed, visiting an elderly alone in her dwelling matchbox with a barely full stomach, or offering consolation to a dying child’s family at the bedside—this is the common scenery.
Many people comment that life is a movie—but I don’t say so. Because we can’t predict our life scripts like actors do in their play. Our tears or laughs are from the heart, but theirs are staged as scripted. Yet people love to see movies—for they can borrow time or escape from painful reality. But ultimately, what is the real panacea that truly prevents or cures grief, heartbreak, or sadness?
I see that every responsible adult should write their own scripts, play them on, and make changes if necessary. Then, leave the rest to the Almighty Lord—for in Him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind (John 1:4).
May the poem below shed light on your reflections of life.
—
✨Grasp Time • Grasp Fate✨
The marquee glows—new stories draw the crowd,
Yet old griefs must release to let new breath aloud.
We too must turn, though turning makes us pause—
For change is a mirror, not a cause.
Beasts trust the pulse that never lies,
But we are torn between earth and skies—
Not left or right, but deeper still:
To write, revise, or bend the will.
No actor knows tomorrow’s line,
No script predicts the hour’s design.
Our tears are real, our laughter raw—
Not borrowed pain, but living law.
Yet at the bedside, by the fading breath,
We learn what films can never bequeath—
That grief is not a plot to end,
But love that chooses to descend.
So take the pen—your life, your page,
Rewrite the sorrow, rewrite the age.
Then lay it down, and let it be—
In Him was life, and light for all to see.
For fate is not a fork in the road—
It is the weight of what you hold,
The present breathing, raw and free—
Where opportunity bends to eternity.
—✨
en yan hua fang 