painted into a corner

Yesterday, I joined the crew for work day at the theater. The set is moving along, and become more detailed. My job for the day was to paint two structures and the floor around it. This will eventually become Job’s house.

Stage Manager Leah jumped in to assist this painting effort. Soon, we were both on the floor with paintbrushes, strategically making our way down stage. It wasn’t until I heard Director Ian chuckling that I looked up and noticed that I had practically painted Leah into an inescapable corner. She only had one small paint-free “path” to freedom!

While this scenario was comical in a world of paint and set construction, how often do we “paint someone into a corner” in real life? When we want something, do we ever manipulate others so we can get it? Sure, it’s not the cruel, dramatic manipulation we see on television or in movies, but we have all learned the right things to say or do to influence the actions of others. Or perhaps our “painting” comes during fights and arguments. In the midst of our anger, we react in ways that leave another person no other choice but to react way out, and especially no way to reconciliation.

Jesus’ command to love one another seems so simply in the delivery, but so difficult to follow in times like these. Painting someone into a corner is never an act of love- only selfishness, inconsideration, or even lack of attention at all. It’s time to open our eyes and become aware of how we use our brush.

breathing life

I’ve been on a break from rehearsals for the past few weeks, as there was little for a writer to do in this initial period of blocking. Blocking, for those who may have forgotten, is when the director goes through the script page by page and tells the actors when and where to stand, move, and deliver lines.

Though sometimes we work on scenes out of chronological order, it seems that Ian is taking the direct route and working from beginning to end. It was amazing to see the beginning of “Job” come to life after first imagining it in my head while writing, then hearing the lines spoken at the initial table-read.

The truth is that the written lines are only half the story. It truly is an example of “reading between the lines”. While an actor is speaking, many things can be happening. This also includes the actions of other characters on a different part of the stage. Just like in real life, many things happen at once. Job may be arguing with his friends near the wreckage of his children’s home while his wife is grieving on the front porch of their house. We also see the spiritual realm that is unseen by the characters. The audience watches as the work of Satan and his demons unfolds.

Seeing a story become real reminds us that the story IS real. We can’t allow the ancient text to become merely a fairytale. God obviously thought Job’s testimony was relevant to our millennium, or He wouldn’t have gone through the trouble of including it in our holy text. How much are we aware of the spiritual happenings around us? We can be quick to blame the  devil when anything goes wrong, but is that accurate? Or do we take the other extreme, like Job, and ignore Satan’s existence altogether and blame God for being unfair? Does the battle between good and evil place us in the middle? And does the acknowledgement of this reality change the way we pray, behave or react?

Job didn’t know the whole story, but what if he did? Do we comprehend the big picture? What if we did? Suddenly, “Job” seems less like an ancient tale and more like something to which we should pay attention…

musings from a resting time

I didn’t attend rehearsal on Sunday. It felt strange to know everyone was hard at work as usual, but I wasn’t involved. However, my role in Job is behind the scenes, as a writer on standby to make any necessary script adjustments as well as participate in work days at the theatre. But this means there are no lines for me to memorize, no blocking to learn, and no reason to juggle Sundays working at a church with a drive to Anaheim in time for a few hours of rehearsing. This is a healthy  situation, but it still feels odd as I break from the routine of past shows.

One observation crossed my mind today. While I am not “religiously superstitious”, the process of writing the Job script has clearly been a challenging time in all areas of my life. I’ve been hit with struggles of all types- financial, emotional, situational, and even in some relationships. Yet now, when the script is written and in the hands of actors, things have been going pretty smoothly. Most of the challenges have been resolved, and there are blessings on top of that. One might assume this is coincidental, except if follows the story of Job too well. After Job went through tragedy, trials, and troubles, God restored everything he lost, then added more. Similarly, I’m experiencing that kind of blessings and bonuses in many areas of my life. Sure, there are battle wounds and scars that run deep. I am not exactly the same girl who sat down with a Bible and note cards to begin adapting scripture for the stage. And I imagine Job emerged from the refining fire of spiritual warfare feeling weary from the fight yet revived with a “second wind”. His perspective was probably forever changed by his experience. And if he’s anything like me, the motives in his heart of worship were driven by a deeper love for the Almighty who laid the foundations of the very earth on which he stood.

behind the scenes as we set the stage

Want a sneak peek at the Job set?

Job is an original production, from the adaptation of the scripture down to the last detail of set design.

Ian and Clayton discuss details. You might recognize that lattice from Risen. When your theater company is not-for-profit, set pieces are versatile and re-usable.

Everyone pitches in, because there are a lot of tasks that happen at work day. In addition to constructing the set, a working theatre requires maintenance, organization, and cleaning. Today, my job was organizing the tool cabinet.

Perhaps you’re inspired to join the fun. Work days happen most Saturdays, and any helping hand is welcome. Maybe you’re saying to yourself right now, “Oh, that would be fun if I lived closer or had some free time.” Never fear- there is a place for your support. Coffee-drinkers (or people who like to give coffee as gifts) can help us with this fundraiser. 

Work days are just one more way the people of Masquer come together to make impactful shows happen!

risk

The cast gathered around the tables, ready to read through the Job script. Usually there is an excited anticipation for what the new script holds. I imagine that’s how most of the cast felt, though this time I was already familiar with the story, as I placed the words on the page.

But even I was surprised by a few of the actions that happen “between the lines”, pieces of subtext Ian-the-director has planned. The dialogue is already pretty substantial, and the action will enrich the story. It’s almost like the piece has layers for the audience to unwrap. Early rehearsals are the part of the process where the show moves from our imaginations to physical real life on stage. It’s a little bit strange (in a good way), and I wonder if this is how it feels when someone writes a song from their heart, then witnesses it gain popularity and be sung by other people.

In addition to reading the script, we talked about the experience of working on Job and what that might mean  for our personal lives. Already, the production team met opposition as we wrote, composed, planned, and designed. While we can’t know the future, there is a strong possibility that this spiritual warfare will extend to the rest of the cast now that they are on board. Of course, there is nothing that God won’t cover with His mercy, but it is important that we stick close to our Redeemer- be it through prayer, worship, Bible study, and beyond. Having prayer support from people outside of the theater company is also necessary. Yet, as someone who has dealt with this project, I can attest that even with all these “safety nets”, God still allows us to walk through the valley of the shadow of death.

The dark times aren’t fun, but they are necessary. And at least we have the Light to guide us through the darkness. It would be pretty difficult for us to properly tell the story of Job the sufferer if we told it from a bubble of safe comfort. Pain and trials breed understanding, wisdom, and even compassion. But these “easy answers” don’t make it feel any better when we’re camping out in “the valley”.

When I looked around the table at the cast of Job, I saw amazing men and women willing to risk their comfort to be part of this show. They’ve heard about our journey, they know the material, and they are aware they are chancing some great difficulties. Yet they are still ready to jump in whole-heartedly. Each of these people believes the story is so important that they will risk their own “safety” to help tell it. They are ready to tackle a heavy script and a demanding rehearsal process to share the story of spiritual warfare and restoration. Whether motivated by a love for people or simple obedience to God, this cast and crew is ready to risk it all.

closure

“Risen” seems ages in the past, yet it closed only two months ago. Not long after my previous entry, personal life events took a different turn. I found myself at rock bottom, spending the evenings of the last few shows in the hospital, instead of on the stage. There was no “closing night” for me, no good-bye to the show, and no set strike to seal the deal. It broke my heart to miss “Risen”, and I had no closure since I couldn’t bid it a proper farewell.

Yes, God was there with me just as He was in the theatre. His love was hand-delivered by my friend-family every single day. And I still carry moments of “Risen” with me. Just today, I read a Bible study, and it talked about the women who discovered Jesus had vacated the tomb. The study called for the reader to imagine how they would feel if they were walking in those women’s sandals. And I knew, because I walked that- and felt that- on stage 2,000+ years after that first Easter Sunday morning.

I carry “Risen” with me whenever I hear the songs we sang each night. They are more than just words and melody, they are pieces of my soul that are forever ingrained on my heart. Love for my Jesus, awestruck wonder at His story, and even the preciousness of the cast and crew lie safely in between the music and lyrics.

And I carry “Risen” as we work on the next show. Without the hope of the Redeemer, this production of “Job” would be far too heavy, hopeless, and even senseless. We’ve been working on the script for this original production for over six months. Right now, the first official draft is complete. There will undoubtedly be rewrites between the first rehearsal and opening night, but we’ve reached a pretty big milestone.

Two weeks ago, we held auditions. For the first time, the characters jumped off the page and became real. God revealed our cast, and so the show begins to take form. We’ll have the table-read on Sunday- the first rehearsal where the entire cast reads through the entire script. Part of me is a little excited-yet-nervous, but these really aren’t my words. Yes, my fingers typed the script, but the story is God’s, the plot was His idea, and I really did more “adapting” then writing. And even that was guided by our director, Ian. Yet, I am honored to be a part of the process, and joyously anticipate seeing the show come to life.

“Job” is often the poster child for suffering. Christians often direct people to this part of the Bible when they have no answers for bad-things-happening-to-good-people. As the production team worked during the past six months, we have definitely hit opposition from an enemy that does not want the story to be told. I don’t know if that will continue or reach out to the rest of the cast and crew. Religious superstition isn’t my thing, but I have seen- and been affected by- how much of a punk Satan can be. We won’t give up, and God is a zillion times bigger than any old devil. However, the prayer support from you and others is so precious as we portray and experience spiritual warfare. Now that we are in production, please consider remembering us to our Heavenly Father and ultimate Director. Feel free to bookmark this blog or connect with Masquer on Facebook. Maybe share this with other prayer warriors you know. And if you think about it, please let us know that you’re praying? Such encouragement strengthens us through the obstacles and challenges. God’s hand is necessary for this show to even exist.

So we begin the story of “Job” as a company. If the past few months of pre-production are any indication, it’s going to be a wild ride. But this wild ride will definitely be used to reveal God’s glory.

where are your eyes?

We are smack-dab in the middle of the run of "Risen", and what a wild ride it has been! Last night's performance was a little crazy. There were little glitches and hiccups here and there.... which happens (welcome to live theatre). As trained actors, we know that we just keep moving through the performance and trust that God will fill in the gaps where we make mistakes. This doesn't always prevent frustration though, especially when you're a perfectionist.... but the show must continue.

Despite my best efforts, I could not focus on the show at all! I was present on stage, going through the motions, but I felt like I was elsewhere. It was easy to be distracted as my mind wandered far from the moment. In desperation, I prayed through each scene- both from the wings while waiting for cues as well as when actually under the lights and in character. At one point, I kept telling myself, "Focus. Come on. Look at Jesus. Keep your eyes on Jesus and don't see the distractions."

One of the challenges of "Risen" is that Jesus is not portrayed by an actor, but through a white cloth that is manipulated by a bunraku technician (or, as we lovingly call them, prop ninjas). This is so that a person in the audience won't be hindered by the choices of an actor, but instead can see Jesus however they personally know Him. By doing this, you can place yourself among the disciples and in the very real story.

However, as an actor, it's not always a simple task to react to a piece of fabric as if it were a living, breathing person/savior. Additionally, there's an angel walking around stage- an angel that is invisible to our characters. So the mental process can sound something like, "Remember where you stand a move, focus on portraying the appropriate emotion and communicating through the song, ignore the angel, focus on the Jesus cloth." Throw in the immense lack of focus and personal distractions of last night, and you see how those desperate prayers emerge.

I'm pretty sure you see where the real-life similarities exist. I don't have to tell you how easy it is to be distracted from worship, from service, from the purposes of God's kingdom. And you know the solution is keeping our eyes on Christ, maintaining focus on the way, truth, and life. And of course, though the concept is simple, it's no easier than performing with a piece of cloth and a non-invisible angel while your mind and heart are on things beyond the stage. But it's not impossible, and He hears our desperate prayers. As we saw last night, God makes beautiful things, even out of the distracted offerings we lay at His feet.

I urge you to come see "Risen" tonight or next weekend. If the past five shows are any indication, it's likely you will witness some kind of miracle.

alas and did

I sit in front of my laptop on the Monday after our first weekend of "Risen" performances. There is so much that could be said.... do I recap the past few weeks of blogging neglect? Brag about our God who works healing miracles on stage- and off? Share excitement of a great opening weekend and urge you to come see the show soon? I could do all these things, but I fear it would only drive you to hit that little exit button, muttering, "too long, did not read."

Instead, I shall share what is on my heart today. Part of my role in "Risen" involves singing a rather sad song after Jesus has died. In the despair of losing my friend, hero, and hope, I can only sit and ask why.

"Alas and did my Savior bleed, and did my Sovereign die
Would He devote that sacred head for such a worm as I?"

In the midst of a busy schedule, enveloped in the organized chaos of work, school, and theater, I have stumbled into some personal challenges. As I face things within myself that are less than pretty, I found myself asking this exact question. Why, God, did you go through all that trouble for me? I am not worth that kind of sacrifice!

"Was it for sin that I have done He groaned upon the tree?

Amazing pity, grace unknown, and love beyond degree..."

Such a love is difficult for me to comprehend. Years of Sunday school and Bible study put the words on paper and the answers in my head. Yet, the reality is too far beyond understanding to truly grasp. Could it be that we treat pure love so lightly that we overlook how deeply, incredibly powerful it is?

"Now might the sun in darkness hide, and shut his glories in

When Christ the mighty maker died for man, the creature's, sin.

As might I hide my blushing face when His dear cross appears

dissolve my heart in thankfulness and melt my eyes to tears!"

We've learned and we know that, though we continue to sin, God continues to forgive- infinitely. What a fantastic display of that love in action! Yet, does it break anyone else's heart to keep messing up? To see and process the beautiful sadness of Jesus' brutal death on the cross, followed by the glorious hope of His resurrection, then remember our mistakes motivated the entire thing.... that's heavy. But to understand this and yet continue to sin.... that's a recipe for heartfelt sorrow.

I recognize that it is impossible for us to live sinless lives, and that God designed the entire system with this in mind. I also realize that our Heavenly Daddy is blessed by the motivations of our heart and earnest efforts inspired by love for Him. However, I can't publish an honest entry if I tie it all up in a nice, neat bow of perfect words. When I sit in the light of that stage with flowers in my hand, my song comes from my soul.

"My God, why would you shed Your blood, so pure and undefiled

To make a sinful one like me Your chosen, precious child?"

rock, paper, singers

Perhaps you remember the rocky tomb from "Risen".

This photo is a little dark, but you still see that it's a big 'ol rock. I bet you never imagined that it starts out a little something like this:

No, that is not The Blob taking over the stage. No, we did not borrow a set piece from a putt-putt golf course. That, my friends, is the mid-stages of construction of a realistic-looking rocky tomb. A mixture of glue, water, and paint (the cheapest we can find, regardless of color) combined with newspaper creates a durable papier mache. This covers a frame of chicken wire to create the rock shape. When it dries, it is painted with various shades of grey until one might assume we just brought in a cave straight from nature. Or at least, something very close to it. ;)

There's an extra special piece hidden, too. You see, we wrote the names of people for whom we are praying and added it to the frame. While we perform "Risen", we will remember them. They are part of the set.... just as they are part of hearts. Sometimes, it's easy to be lost in the mechanics of production and lose sight of what's truly important. This is one small way we maintain perspective.

As we near our final rehearsals, I am personally striving to keep the big picture in mind. In addition to the work for the show- from blocking and music to writing a short biography for the playbill and securing my costume, as well as continuing work on the next show, "Job"- there are increasing responsibilities outside of the theater. Part of my job at a church means that Easter is a particularly busy time, and the semester is in full swing at school. Sure, I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength, but I have a tendency to push the limit of how many things that includes. At this time last year, I was in the middle of a job search and moving to a new home. This year, I am juggling jobs and house-breaking a puppy. Sometimes, I imagine a mythical time "when things are less busy", but when will I choose for that to happen?

For the moment, "busy" is just what it is. It's easy to be overwhelmed and let stress suck momentum from the campaign to accomplish everything. But as I sat atop the platform on stage, perched over chicken wire with pink, goop-covered hands, I took a breath. Maybe it was the feeling of the slimy papier mache mixture, or being surrounded by friends as we constructed the set. Perhaps it was taking time for a creative, artistic act while singing along to fun music. There is something magically soothing about singing (or maybe it's less magic and more about the mechanics of the controlled breathing that is required). Regardless, in the midst of my current chaotic life, I found oasis in the rock.

Then again, why am I surprised? I always find oasis in The Rock.

the rest

A tight-knit cast shares a lot of things. We share laughter, we share tears. We are together for meals, fun times, prayer, and crisis. Often, we see one another outside the walls of the theater, intertwining our lives. A tight-knit cast shares many things- including germs.

The show must go on, they say. In fact, it's a motto by which many of us live. It is rare for illness to keep us from the stage- many performances have been in spite of fever, exhaustion, or even a lack of voice (God has miraculously pulled us through many shows!). Unless it's absolutely necessary, most of us will still attend rehearsal with kleenex and cough drops in tow, lest we fall behind on our work. This dedication has its rewards, but the discipline comes with a cost.

i'm not sure how many- if any- of the current cast of Risen has escaped this blend of sick. I certainly haven't. These words are typed between (punctuated by?) sneezes and sniffles. This epidemic (combined with a few other circumstances) inspired Ian to cancel rehearsal this coming Sunday. He gave us strict orders to rest.

Rest?

It's a familiar suggestion (command?), as Kelly- my roommate, castmate, and fellow victim of The Illness- continues to tell me I won't heal unless I take time to rest. I argue that I have taken a reasonable term on the couch, then rush off to my next class/work shift/meeting/whatever. These things are important. They are responsibilities, not recreational outings. The world does not stop merely because my body is housing germs of the persistently evil kind.

There's a lesson here, isn't there? Some cliche reminder that even God rested on the seventh day? But hey, He's the Master of the Universe. He plays by His own rules. When I've accomplished the creation of even one planet, then I can apply this seventh-day nap clause. Of course, Jesus sets plenty of examples of a balanced life of work, play and rest. And we are definitely called to pattern our habits after His. This is going to be another instance where life offstage mirrors principals learned from the stage, isn't it?

If you need me, I'll be on the couch in pajamas, watching another episode of "Scrubs"..... kleenex in hand, of course.

do i trust him?

The rehearsal process continues. Each Sunday, we add a few new scenes, and it feels like we're hurtling toward the completed show at record speed. Most of our time this week was spent on choreography, but before we closed the curtain for the day, we sat down to review the "big picture". When we rehearse, we take the scenes out of order. Instead of starting at the beginning and moving chronologically through the show, rehearsals begin with things that need more attention. Once complicated group pieces or difficult moments are established, it's easy to plug in simpler songs closer to opening night (this phenomena is why, during "Journey to the Manger", a short scene between Ryan and I wasn't even blocked until we were about to start tech rehearsals. This keeps us on our toes- translation: it's a fun challenge!). Looking so closely at individual songs can make one forget the flow of the story. This mini-review pulled us all back together in a unified vision.

My brain was already running at top speed, so I couldn't simply just sit still and listen. As Ian spoke, I flipped through my script and analyzed what I know of the show combined with the new information he was giving. The editor in me began the string of "what if we..." and "how could we improve the boat?" and "do you think that's such a good idea? wouldn't it be better if...?" and "is he sure about that?".... until an internal voice interjected. "Don't you trust your director?"

The racing thoughts screeched to a halt.

Of course I tru- why wouldn't i? What are you saying? I'm only trying- And I realized that having this conversation in my head borders on crazy. If I'm arguing with myself, it means I'm justifying something I already know isn't quite right.

It's often said that "theater is a team sport", and it's very true that only a group effort can execute a successful production. While Ian welcomes input and feedback- which often improves the final product- there is still order to the operation. Ian is the director, and he's in the position for a reason. And since this is a Masquer show, there's another element not often found in mainstream theater: God's direction. The Lord inspired this show from the beginning, and His input continues to direct us now, as well. I have the opportunity to contribute to a future show, "Job", as I am part of the team of creators. But my role in "Risen" is ensemble; I am not in charge. Suddenly, I understood that I was not arguing with myself, but with that Still Small Voice that often keeps me in check.

"Do you trust Ian? Do you trust Me? Bottom line- do you trust your Director?"

I start out very ready to take instructions, unworried about where the path leads. When I get a glimpse of the bigger vision, I get excited. What good things are coming! My little piece of participation breeds a desire for a more hands-on role. Suddenly, I think my good ideas are the best way to proceed. I assume I know the entire big picture and can handle it. If I'm not careful, I rush ahead in silly zeal and the best of intentions. In these moments, I imagine God looking down on me in amusement. "Look at that little one, who thinks she knows what's going on!" I'm like a little kid in the kitchen, wearing an over-sized apron and surrounded by a mess of flour- truly convinced that I know how to bake on my own (ok, so this isn't far from an actual moment of me in the kitchen as an adult, but that's not the point of the illustration). Again, I am reminded that I can't take control into my own hands when the capable Director knows what is best for the show.

I love how God meets me where I am and says, "Hey, I'm going to teach you something!" He found me sitting on the stage, so He sat next to me and whispered in my ear. He's my favorite Director.

emotional

I have a lot of distractions calling my name at the moment. Most of them are good, responsible, necessary kind of things. But I wanted to get my thoughts on paper (um, computer monitor) before I lost the few I have about "Risen" this week.

Yeah, I said just a "few". That's it. No brilliant realizations, epiphanies, or life lessons. No questions stirred, pondered, or contemplated.

- I feel very compelled to pray for unity among the cast, crew, and extending beyond to our host church and families. Few things can halt a Masquer production. We take the stage in spite of personal problems or looming obstacles. In sickness or in health, we perform. But division can do a little damage in a theater company, especially one as tightly knit as this. Before questions or rumors begin, please do not read too much into this paragraph. It is merely one of a few things on my mind, my own personal concern. So by all means, pray for unity- but do not worry for a minute that there's anything between these lines.

- Work day was brief for me on Saturday, due to a prior commitment. It was also a superb example of teamwork. Many hands made fairly light work of moving a sixteen-foot-high climbable lattice from point "a" to point "b". Yes, it was a journey of less than twelve inches, but this thing is ginormous (as you will see WHEN you come to "Risen" ;) ). Here's a picture from last year to give you an idea.

Of course, you'll have to imagine it with out the finished rock, because that's only a wooden frame at the moment. And you can't see the full scale... but you get the idea. Big structure, success by teamwork. It's the only way to go.

- During Sunday's rehearsal, we blocked a few scenes, including the finale. This last song, when Jesus ascends to heaven, was previously one of the hardest-hitting for me. My character has already come to terms with losing her beloved savior and friend, and then the shock, wonder, and amazement at His return. Now, He was leaving again- though this time under much happier circumstances and with a promise to be around always. Can you imagine how trippy this must've been for the disciples? In the past months, they'd been through some crazy stuff. With no past experience to base this one, they had only faith to cling to as they attempted to process all the events- events that included the death of Someone they fully expected to live and conquer. Of course, from our big-picture vantage point, we know that's exactly what Jesus did, but in the midst of the day-by-day it couldn't have been so easy to accept.

So that's how I felt last year.... after thinking you've forever lost the person most dear to your heart, then swooping from devastation to joy in His miraculous return, only to say good-bye again, that's a lot of emotion to carry in one's heart. Throw in the peace that passes all understanding as you stand under a cloud of glory with instructions to go spread the word- yeah... you get the idea. But so far in this rehearsal process, that hasn't set in yet. i'm sure it's the familiarity combined with the mechanics of blocking. But I still want that connection and don't want it to take too long to "click". Besides my own selfish reasons, I want to perform well and convincingly. In addition to simply wanting to be professional and give my best work, this is also an offering of talent back to the One who blessed me with it in the first place.

the same, yet different

I've never done the same show twice. Once the curtain closes on the final night, I say my good-byes to the production and prepare for whatever is next.

A year ago, we began the premiere of the original show, "Risen". As we entered the emotional journey of Christ's followers, I was in the midst of my own emotional journey. I returned to school after five years in the professional world. My position at work had changed and I was seeking a more suitable and permanent job. I was also preparing to move in order to accommodate all these changes.

Learning new songs, new blocking, and a new point of view to a familiar story was intense at times. I welcomed this creative outlet in light of my life's insanity. Working on "Risen" was a tangible way for me to draw close to my Heavenly Father in a tumultuous time.

A year later, we revisit "Risen" with mostly the same cast- yet how many of us are such different people than we were twelve months ago? This girl joins the stage in 2011 after spending a year truly walking in faith as life proves uncertain and ever-changing. The cast of characters in my my personal circle has changed with my new job and new neighborhood- though these things are no longer new, but part of the daily routine. I've had to rely on God's provision like never before, from finances to relationships. Like the disciples in the show's boat scene, I cry out that I need Him EVERY HOUR- every minute, even- merely to exist. Last year, through my character, I was reintroduced to Jesus with fresh eyes. Perhaps this year, I'll be reenacting a love story with my Savior.

Logistically, the rehearsal process will consist of remembering familiar music and blocking, tweaking imperfections, and making changes to adapt to additional members of the ensemble. It's funny how much the work onstage resembles the day-to-day offstage. Though the show is the same, I'm different. We're different. And, upon closer examination, it's anything BUT the same production.

Meanwhile, we are also working on a new original Masquer production, based on the book of Job. A few of us are writing the script and composing music in anticipation of opening the show in the fall. As this project coincides with current rehearsals, I'll be tying in bits and pieces of God's work in that area as well. Already, as I deal with the effects of a dramatic car accident and other life challenges in the past week, I've had a hands-on lesson on some of Job's frustration. And, like Job, I still bless the Lord- despite and because of any difficult circumstances.

the long road to first rehearsal

This entry is approximately seven days overdue, and I'm regrouping after a big change in plans last week. This is an adaptation of a post from my personal blog (www.malthestar.blogspot.com). It covers most of what I would share with you, anyway.

A month and a half is a long time to be away from the theater. While rest is much needed between shows (not to mention in preparation for such an intense season), a girl starts to miss the stage after a couple of weeks. So it’s almost needless to say that I was highly anticipating the first rehearsal for the Easter show, “Risen”. It was the first thing I thought about when I opened my eyes in the morning, and I was glad to be so busy at WorkChurch so that the afternoon would come quickly.

The rainy day did not dampen my spirits at all as I drove from San Pedro to the theater in Anaheim. As a seasoned driver from the weather-worn roads of Ohitucky, I know how to be cautious on a rainy freeway. Though I maintained a safe and reasonable speed with every other driver, a deep patch of water still caused my car to hydroplane. I struggled to regain control and prayed that I wouldn’t hit the cars near me. In seconds, my car spun toward the concrete wall that separate the east- and west-bound traffic. Once I hit that divider, the force caused my car to spin in the opposite direction until I hit the wall again. I came to a stop right against the concrete, in the carpool lane, facing oncoming traffic.

Though shaking, I prayed that God would handle the cars speeding toward me on the wet road, while I tried to find my phone (Note: the little holder that was supposed to keep my phone handy in such situations failed. Also, while we’re on that subject, my air bags didn’t go off. thanks for nothing, safety precautions.). The 911 dispatcher was most helpful, telling me to keep my seatbelt and hazard lights on, and “stay where I felt safest” (Um, how about NOT sitting on this freeway?!). The highway patrol arrived in minutes, and proceeded to shut down the freeway.

Since I couldn’t move my car, CHP was ready to spring into action. From the car loudspeaker, he said, “Imma move ya”. And instructed me to put my car in neutral and steer. By pushing my car with the patrol car, a few fancy maneuvers had me turned around and on the safer shoulder of the road. If I had to keep all the folks from their destination by stopping traffic, at least they got a show out of it….

Meanwhile, I was not hurt. I didn’t hit any other vehicles. Of course, my neck and back are aching, but I didn’t hit my head or break any bones. There are no visible bruises, cuts, or scrapes on my body. I am beyond grateful for such incredible divine protection!

I was stranded in North Long Beach with no transportation. All of my local friends were in Anaheim, at rehearsal. I hated to ask anyone to drive all the way out there, but they did in a heartbeat. I arrived to rehearsal and my dear castmates, whom I love so much. Still in shock, I was so glad to be near them and felt a little bit safer.

Now, I attempted to focus on the material for “Risen”. This is the same show we did last spring, so much of it was familiar. Of course, tweaks and changes will be made, including the addition of two more members of the ensemble. At last year’s table read, we marveled at the introduction to powerful music and the original concepts of the production. This time, we recalled the emotion of each scene and its meaning. I made it through the first act by directing my focus from the accident to the show. But once we began act II, the shock was starting to wear off. The beautiful and intense truth in some of the songs released tears that had been well-contained until that moment. Lyrics about being saved took on a more immediate meaning and the impact hit my heart with some kind of emotional force. I struggled to sing through my parts between sniffles and tear drops…. and was so glad that, unlike my usual preferred crying situation, i was not alone.

The rest of the afternoon was filled with hugs, prayers, and encouraging reassurance. As always, Masquer extends beyond the production to be a ministry of love. In times like these, I am overwhelmed by God’s goodness when He gave me the gift of my theater family.

Now I deal with the aftermath… But still remembering that God is in control of the details. He is sovereign, and He is good. And He won’t let me forget it.