What I Learned

I just finished a six-week stint directing a play at Crystal Sea Drama Company. This is a youth theater company, so it's supposed to be an educational experience for the young people involved. However, I find that it's just as much an educational experience for me.

What I Learned Directing This Play:

1. How limited my theater knowledge and experience is. I've done lots of drama . . . not as much actual theater. I can put people on a stage with a script and get a good performance out of them. Everything else that theater involves, I'm pretty clueless about.

My costumer asked me what period the costumes should be. Period? I dunno. It's the Clue game characters . . . they're in a castle . . .

My set designer asked what kind of castle. I dunno. German? Siekfurst is a German name . . . sure, it's German. I don't have a clue what a German castle looks like. What kind of kitchen table in the kitchen? I have no idea -- what can you give me?

He also asked if I wanted to keep the round proscenium platforms or take them out. I don't know -- what do you want to do? I'm not used to dictating what my stage looks like; I'm used to being given a stage and having to work with what I have.

My stage manager asked to use my script with the cues written in it. Cues? Umm . . . how exactly would you like those cues written? (She ended up writing cues in her own script.)

I think I should take the tech class at CSDC.

2. How little attention I pay to detail. Did I like the earrings Fillie was wearing in Act 2? Was she wearing earrings in Act 2?

Do I want the rafters painted to match the trim? Uh . . . rafters? Oh, those. Sure. Maybe. I can't even picture that in my head.

I work with people here who are the type who would notice that this suitcase is a completely different style than all the other suitcases and cringe at that through the whole show -- where I'm happy that we found a purple suitcase at all. I'm grateful to have people who pay attention to those things because I know there are audience members that pay attention to those things, and I just don't see any of it.

3. How little control I have over anything. Actually, this was not news to me -- I'm reminded of this every time I direct a play. I'm convinced this is why God has me doing this.

I have NO control over who auditions for my play. (And I didn't have enough people audition, but God brought us the people we needed.)

I have NO control over how hard my actors and crew work. (But my people worked very hard for me this time around -- even got their lines memorized in a week and two days.)

I have NO control over the health of my actors and crew, or their well-being and safety outside of my rehearsal time with them -- and sometimes not much DURING my rehearsal time with them. (And this was my first play where those things really became issues.)

I have NO control, once the symbolic curtain rises on opening night, over what ends up happening on that stage. There's a point where it's all out of my hands.

4. I love these kids. I can't tell you what a great group of actors and techies I had for this play. I enjoyed them thoroughly. They put on a great show. They reminded me why I do this . . . and made me want to do it again.

Sometime. After I get the house cleaned and get caught up on my sleep.

The Value of Theater Education

Goodness, it's been a while since I posted. But with good reason. The last two or three weeks have been dominated by Crystal Sea Drama Company's production of Seussical, which my daughter was in and with which I assisted the director. As my involvement in CSDC increases, this may become the new pattern for my blog: two or three weeks of silence toward the end of every show.

It has been a crazy couple weeks. But wonderful, also. And watching all these students -- about sixty overall between the cast and all the tech crew -- reminds me of why theater is such a valuable thing for kids to be involved with.

- They learn to be comfortable with public speaking. And to be good at it: good volume, comfortable pacing, expressive delivery. I think public speaking still ranks high on the lists of people's greatest fears -- it may even be number one. But almost everyone will have some occasion to speak to a group sometime in their lives (best man toasts? praying at church?), and you may as well feel comfortable at it.

- They interact in an intimate way with art and literature. There's much to be said about exposing your kids to art: taking them to museums and shows and concerts. But there's much MORE to be said for their being actually involved in the creation of art. To let them see the whole thing from the inside out. To engage in the act of creation, one of the ways we are made in the image of God.

I think every kid in the country reads a Shakespeare play at some point in their education, but how much more impactful would that be if they were actually performing it? It is drama, after all; it's meant to be performed, not read.

- They learn empathy. When you are in a play, you become another person. You have to think what they would think, feel what they would feel, react as they would react. No better way to step into another person's shoes and see life from their perspective. Such skills transfer into the real world. And such skills are more important than I can even express here.

- They learn to accept criticism and feedback with grace. Part of the rehearsal process is having the director give you feedback on your performance and learning to apply it. Without taking it personally. Without feeling like a failure. Without copping an attitude. Without resenting the critic. And that's something they will need to do for the rest of their lives.

- They learn teamwork. Those sixty kids I mentioned earlier? Only a handful of them were lead roles on the stage. Some of them had a multitude of little roles. Some of them ran spotlights. Some of them helped actors with quick costume changes. Some of them opened curtains at critical moments to make set changes go quickly so the pace of the play wasn't disrupted. Every single person was critical to the production. And the run of the show was a success because every single person took their part seriously and did it with excellence.

- They make great friends. When you spend this much time with people, you get close. You become a family. It's wonderful.


There's so much more. I'm so grateful for the time I spent in theater when I was young, and I'm so grateful for the opportunities my own children have had. If you're a parent, I urge you to find a play for your kiddos to get involved in. At least once.

And if you're a San Antonio parent, may I recommend you look into Crystal Sea Drama Company? They have a couple summer camps coming up. Well worth it.

On Princesses and Mustaches

I haven't blogged in over a week (if you haven't noticed this, no offense taken . . . I suppose). I've been helping direct a two-week drama camp at Crystal Sea Drama Company. A traditional melodrama, with olios, a curtain raiser, and lot of costume changes. I haven't had much else to think about for the past two weeks, so this morning you get:

THOUGHTS ON DRAMA CAMP

- I was never taught how to direct; I just figured it out as I went. This week, I got to watch two directors at work and learn from them. Mrs. Miller, the theater's artistic director, is a stickler for detail, authenticity, and consistency – three of my weak areas. And she brought in a friend one evening to help the students with their melodramatic flair – I loved watching her help the actors think through their motivations and subtext and all. I will be a better director after having observed these two ladies at work.

- For the evening's "curtain raiser", we adapted the first play I wrote for the homeschool drama group in Sioux City: "The King and His Dancing Princesses." Now, that production had twenty-four actors, almost all newbies to the stage. For this production, we had six (after one girl got sick and had to drop out). SIX. I learned flexibility and adaptation this week. You wouldn't believe what these six kiddos are pulling off.

- I have a new appreciation for "techies". I've never really had techies before – I mean, I've had people willing to create some basic sets, find props and costumes . . . but a theater "techie" is a breed to themselves. There is a lovely young lady interning at CSDC this year; Mrs. Miller and I gave her a yard-long list of things to do to prepare for this show (everything from "take the sticker off the bottom of the cracker box" to "paint thirty signs for the sign girl" to "build five portable headboards"). She showed up every day and worked all day, systematically ticking off the items on the list – and did so with a smile and great enthusiasm for her work. What a gal.

- I'm so grateful to have this place for my own daughter to nurture her passions and talents. Last year at this time, she was doing the Shakespeare drama camp, her first introduction to CSDC, and she was nervous, shy, and not quite feeling like she fit in yet. This year, she's confident, loud, and right in the center of it all. Love seeing that.

If you're in San Antonio, swing by CSDC this weekend for Drama and Dessert. Eat some triple chocolate cake, take pictures in the photo booth, throw popcorn at the villains with their handlebar mustaches, and giggle at my silly princesses. You'll be amazed at what a bunch of dedicated kids (and two frazzled directors) can pull together in two weeks.

Resuscitate Or Let It Die?

I have this website that many of you know about. It's a place where I sell my scripts that I've written over the years for church dramas and homeschool dramas. I set it up a couple years ago because I figured, I have all these scripts sitting on my hard drive that I have no current use for, and there has to be SOMEBODY out there who would love to use them.

So, I spent the time one summer to create the website. Acting Out Christian Dramas. You can click there to get to it.

Just the process of creating this site was seriously out of my comfort zone. The research involved! Research is actually one of my least favorite activities. I very much enjoy taking information and doing something with it -- I really hate the process of hunting the information down to begin with. But I had to research places to create websites, sites where I could upload the documents safely, ways for the financial transaction to happen online . . . for some of you, this may all be "duh" kind of stuff. But for me, this was a major learning curve.

And then I went through all the grunt work of actually designing the pages (simple as they are), choosing which scripts, creating free "previews" people could download, uploading various things at various sites . . . oh, good heavens. This was a time-consuming process, both to learn how to do and to execute.

But I got it done. And I was rather proud of myself just for doing it.

As I said, that was about two years ago. In the meantime, I have a Facebook page for the website with about 60 likes. And a decent number of those people are folks I have never heard of -- I don't know how they found the page. I seem to get hits on the website pretty frequently.

But in the end, I've only sold a handful of scripts. I'm pretty sure that's because I do very little to market the site; other than putting out a link once a month on the Facebook page, I don't do anything with this. Frankly, it is quite low on the priority list. It's not that I don't want to sell my scripts. There are just other things more important.

And honestly, I hate marketing just about as much as I hate research. When I had my Creative Memories business, that was the part that weighed on me the most. It's the part I hate about teaching in the classroom. I don't like to have to "sell" myself or my "product." If you want what I have to offer and think it will benefit you, great! Let's talk. But I don't want to have to try to convince you that you need what I have. Ugghhh.

Yes, I know. If I intend to be in the script-selling business, I have to buck up. Marketing is what it takes -- just figure it out. And that's why I'm wondering if I really want to be in the script-selling business. I keep hoping that there will be someone in my life who actually has this skill set and maybe enjoys the selling process who will step in and offer to make this work. That's not happening.

Although my website is free, the site that stores the documents costs me $15 a month. Because of some quirks that happened last month when my credit card got changed, my subscription to that site will be cancelled in five days unless I go give them my new credit card info. I'm trying to decide if I'm just going to let it die a quiet death.

Because I'm just not a business person. But more importantly, I don't know how badly I want to be one.

Lessons Learned from the Director's Chair

Last Friday was Summit Christian Academy's performance of  Pilgrim's Progress -- the second play I wrote, my tenth play I've directed, and my third time directing this particular play. I have to say . . . this show probably gave me more gray hairs than any yet. A bunch of new actors in their first full-length play who didn't understand the importance of memorizing lines early. The week of the performance is not the time to get your lines down! And now they know this. :) Yet they still pulled off two great performances on Friday. The power of prayer, people.

The stress I felt this last week sent me back to the very first play we did in Sioux City: "The King and His Dancing Princesses." About fifteen 3rd-5th graders, in their very first play, with a newbie director and newbie producer . . . wow. I distinctly remember about half-way through thinking, "What made me think I could do this?"

I've always loved acting, but now I think I love writing and directing more -- and this was a surprise to me. I never thought I'd be willing to give up the spotlight, but here I am enjoying the behind-the-scenes much more. God has used this "hobby" to teach me so many things. Like . . .

. . . that I'm not really in control of anything. That was a huge adjustment during that first play I directed: realizing that I could only do so much. At some point, the kids themselves had to step up and make this happen, and I couldn't make them do it. All I can do is try to make them want to do it, and give them the tools to do it. In the end, it's all out of my hands.

. . . that my precious words I've written are not as important as I think. I remember a drama performed at our church in Sioux City that got particularly butchered in content as the actors struggled through. The worship leader announced to the congregation at the end of the service that the piece had been written by me. I muttered under my breath, "Well, that somewhat resembled something I wrote . . ."  I've had to learn over and over to let go of my script; it's not going to come out as I planned it. And that's okay.

. . . that learning a new skill comes from imitation. With my beginning student actors, I usually have to show them exactly how I want them to deliver a line, how I want them to stand or move, how loud and slow they need to speak, everything. They mimic me. And eventually, after two or three plays, they start to feel in their own bodies what it feels like when it's done right and they then internalize the skill. It was an awesome thing to direct my last play with my high schoolers in Sioux City and see just how far they'd come. I've applied these lessons to teaching writing as well. We learn a new skill through imitation and repetition.

. . . that the personal growth of my students trumps a good show. Never have we put on a show that I couldn't find some aspect of the performance I wished we'd done better. But in every show, the students have learned something important. They learned how to project their voice. Or they learned how to focus and pay attention. Or they learned how to sympathize with a character-type very different from themselves. And those things are far more important than whether the final performance was stellar quality or not.

So, what did this last group of students learn? The group that didn't get their lines memorized until the final week? Well, not only did they learn that Mrs. K knows what she's talking about when she sets deadlines . . . but I suspect they've learned something about learning. My suspicions are that they were "going over" their lines all that time; they just didn't do what it took to actually learn them. And I have suspicions that similar things are happening with their schoolwork. They "go over" a grammar worksheet enough to get enough right answers to get enough points to satisfy their parents. But they don't do what it takes to learn the grammar concept.

And now I'm excited at the prospect of watching my students learn how to learn in the last couple months of school. If that actually happens, the new gray hairs from the last week will have been well worth it.

My Crowded Mind

I'll be blunt: I have nothing profound to say today. If it weren't for the fact that I try to make writing a discipline and I've been lax on that discipline in the last couple weeks, I wouldn't even attempt a blog post today at all.

One reason I have nothing profound to say is because I have so many different strands of thought going in my mind right now that none of them can dip very far beneath the surface to find deep connections in my psyche. Wanna hear about all those strands? Sure you do.

- The Film Festival -- which I wrote about last post. Still going through tomorrow. The director of a local homeschool theater company jokingly suggested that I should teach a film-making class this summer since I'm all excited about the concept now. Which really was a joke. Until I thought about it more. And now I'm actually stupid enough to be considering the idea seriously. (Just what makes me think I can teach a film-making class? I have no idea. But, you know, I asked myself the same question in the middle of directing my first play . . . "What made you think you could do this??" And yet I did it.)

- The School Play -- which I am directing. This project has been a challenge on many levels. Many beginner actors. Very little rehearsal time. Limited storage for props and costumes. Little to no access to our actual performance space until the final dress rehearsal. So many details . . . it seems like this play is on my mind at some level 24/7. Two weeks from today is performance day . . .

- School Next Year -- I wrote earlier about how my daughter's high school is not continuing and we're trying to start a homeschool co-op. Lots of research and thought and planning going into that. Plus, I'm teaching the English for that co-op . . . even more research and thought and planning. And I'm starting to wonder if I just want to do the history myself, also. (Believe it or not, I may prefer that to hunting down and paying for a curriculum that I may not end up liking.) Always on the brain . . .

- Grammar -- I offered to help the school come up with a new grammar curriculum for the whole school -- because what they do now isn't working well. And because I love grammar. So, I will find myself at times just thinking through grammar concepts, and ways to teach them, and what needs to be taught before what, and on and on . . .

- Launching the Eldest -- My older daughter has a lot of significant things happening in her life right now. She's doing a College Plus program called Navigate that is supposed to help her find focus and direction for her life. She's getting ready to start classes at St. Philip's College in the fall. She's buying a car (well, we will own it, but we're walking her through the gruntwork of the purchase). She's looking for a job. She's getting ready for her boyfriend to possibly move to San Antonio in a couple months. And in all of this, she needs our support and guidance.

- Curriculum Writing -- The company for whom I write Bible study guides just sent me transcripts of the DVDs for my next assignment, a Bible study over the Song of Solomon. I have five weeks to write leader guides for six sessions. Scripture about loving God, His loving us, etc. etc. . . .

- Summer Drama Camps -- The afore-mentioned homeschool theater director asked if I'd be willing to teach any other drama camps this summer. So, the idea of a two-week performance camp for elementary kids is also shaping in my mind . . .

- Junior High English Classes Next Year -- I will still be teaching junior high literature at Summit Christian Academy next year, and occasionally thoughts about those classes start floating through my head . . .

- English Classes THIS Year -- And this school year isn't over yet: Don Quixote and Tale of Two Cities are still on my plate before summer break, among other things.

- Driver's Ed -- for the younger daughter -- she's itching to start.

- Bible Study Fellowship -- still have to keep up with this. (And I'm bracing myself to be asked to be a group leader in the fall . . . can I really add that to the pile?)

- Prayer List -- there are several people I've felt strongly convicted to pray for that God keeps bringing up at random moments . . . Now -- they need you to lift them up right now . . . 

- Birthdays -- both of my daughters have theirs at the end of April. Which I just remembered the other day.

AND HANGING OVER IT ALL . . .

- Tan pants. My daughter needs them. For the play. I hate clothes shopping so much, this may be the item on the list that weighs on me the most.

So there. A tour of the innards of my mind this Spring Break week. Aren't you glad you're just visiting and not living here for the duration? :)

Yeah, We Could Make Movies

So, I haven't blogged for a while. Science fair, spring break starting, family in town . . . you know how it goes. We're on spring break this week, but I still won't have an excess of time, because the San Antonio Christian Worldview Film Festival.

Our school was given two free student passes, and our principal offered them to my daughter, the budding young actress who loves to edit video. (The festival organizers graciously allowed me to use the second pass so she wouldn't be going alone.) It's a five day event: two and a half days of workshops and two and a half days of film festival. We get into the whole shebang.

I wasn't sure how excited to get about this at first. For one thing, this is my spring break. I have all sorts of stuff I need to get done this week -- lesson planning, curriculum writing, costume shopping, plus just all the family stuff that gets put off until "I have some extra time." Going to this thing all day for five days would really kill my Spring Break productivity and make me scramble for the next several weeks.

But I also wondered how beneficial it would really be for my daughter. If these workshops are for
serious film-makers, how much would she get out of it? She may not have the base knowledge or background to even understand what they are talking about.

Never fear. "Film-Making 101" with Stacie Graber to the rescue.

Our first workshop yesterday. Perfect. Everything we needed to know about the basic process of putting a real movie together. Oh, my goodness. Are we both psyched now!

The second workshop was more of an acting workshop (Exploring the Spiritual Lives of your Characters), so it had immediate use for us also. And it was also inspiring.

I have always had in the back of my mind that my daughter might enjoy something in the area of film-making someday. But not until yesterday did I realize how doable this is for her NOW. How much potential there is for her to use these skills and interests of hers TODAY. Or soon, at least. I'm listening to the speakers and thinking, "She could make a short film to submit next year."

Next year. Holy cow. That's exciting!

What's more, I'm thinking, I would enjoy this. Not every part of it, but certainly the writing. Certainly the directing. Certainly the whole create-the-vision-for-this-thing part.

Daughter and I talked on the way there yesterday about how conferences like this are often a lot of "rah-rah" to get people excited about their topic . . . and how susceptible she and I are to the "rah-rah." We are easily excited. But really, I think this is something worth our getting excited about.

So, "rah-rah"! Let's see what comes of this.

A Tempting New Theater Situation

My youngest is in the middle of two exciting and stressful weeks. She's doing Shakespeare camp at Crystal Sea Drama Company here in town. This is a theater program aimed mostly at homeschoolers; they have classes in various theater arts all day on Thursdays and perform two or three shows a year, I understand. We found it online when we moved to town and SO wanted my girl to be involved . . . but Thursday is a school day for her. No go.

But summer camps, she can do. And she's enjoying this one, even with the stress of memorizing lines from five Shakespeare scenes in a week. And I'm fascinated by this new theater (new to us, that is).

They have their own building. A great building -- a small theater, but quite adequate, tons of backstage and storage space, "classroom" areas, box office. How awesome to have your own building! No clearing out all evidence of your presence after every rehearsal so the church can have its space back. No lugging props and set pieces back and forth. Wow.

They have a huge stash of costumes AND a woman who makes costumes for them. She's making lots of beautiful new Shakespearean costumes for this week (out of Goodwill finds, my daughter tells me). A costume genius -- wow! What a joy to have on hand!

The director makes the kids help clean up the building every night before they leave; it's just part of the routine. In fact, taking the trash to the dumpster has apparently become a social event for the regulars in the group. Love that.

The director was asking about my drama experience and how I might like to get involved here . . . if I am interested in getting involved here. I told her the stuff she probably needs (techie stuff -- that's always what every theater needs) is the stuff I stink at. I mostly write and direct. "Well, actually," she said, "I'm the only director here and I could use someone to take some of that burden . . . "

My first thought was that I simply won't have time for that with my teaching load this fall. But a summer camp . . . that's a possibility. And then I thought some more. When we did our plays in Sioux City, we practiced two hours a week for four weeks, then added another two-hour rehearsal each week for another four weeks. A total of 24 hours of rehearsal for each show. For this two-week camp, they've met from 3:30 to 9:30 for nine evenings to prepare for two dinner theater performances. That's 54 hours of rehearsal time.

54 hours. I'm not sure I would know what to do with 54 hours of rehearsal time. Holy smokes! How cool would that be to do a show with 54 hours of rehearsal time! And a costume genius! And a building! And a significant budget! Oh my goodness . . . this is sounding quite tempting.

But for now, I'm anxious to see Shakespeare Comes to Dinner this Saturday night. And pay a buck or two to have the servers deliver Shakespearean insults to my husband. Maybe I'll even have him thrown in the stockade. Sounds like fun!

Being Heavenly-Minded To Be Of Earthly Good

At our Monday night Lenten small group, we watched a video of an almost-one-man-show called "The Bema". My Sunnybrook friends may remember when Phil Freiburg did a 30-minute version of this a couple years ago. Because I'd had to trim the full show down for Phil's shorter performance, I had seen this script before, but I'd never seen the performance of the full show. An interesting production.

It's one man's idea of what the Bema Seat judgment will be like. You see, according to scripture, there are actually two judgments that happen at the end of the age. At the Great White Throne Judgment, our eternal destiny is determined. Those who had a right relationship with God through Christ go on from this judgment to eternal life -- which begins with the Bema Seat judgment.

At the Bema Seat, rewards are handed out. Our life is reviewed, and we are recognized for what
we did on earth that had eternal significance . . . and the rest of what we did burns away like "wood, hay, and stubble". We're already in heaven. The good things we do don't get us there, but they do matter.

As I said, this was just one man's idea of what this judgment will be like, but it's based pretty accurately on what we know about it in scripture, I think. And it's a moving thing to watch. Makes me long for the physical presence of my Lord.

But I did come away feeling a little like Schindler at the end of the movie. "This car . . . it could have bought ten more people. This watch . . . one more . . . " The regret. I could have done more. So much more.

I used to worry that the end would come and I wouldn't have been good enough to get into heaven. I'm not worried about that anymore. That's settled in my mind. Jesus was good enough, and his blood covers me. But now I worry-- . . . well, no, it's not worry really. I just find that as I grow in my understanding of who God is and what He's done for me, I love Him more. And the more I love Him, the more I want to please Him and the more I want everyone else to know Him, too.

(Now, please don't misunderstand me -- I'm by no means some great saint here. Like Paul, I'm well aware that I haven't "arrived" yet. I have a long way to go. But by the grace of God, I've come a long way already.)

Anyway, I just don't want to stand before the God I love and see all the opportunities I had to do things that mattered for eternity and find that I wasted my life on things that in the end will be of no consequence. "That hour I surfed the web . . . I could have spent that time talking to someone in pain, giving them hope, pointing them to God . . . those dinners we ate out every week . . . they could have paid for a well to be dug in a destitute village in Africa to give people life and hope . . . this thing, this thing I squandered for my own comfort and pleasure . . . it could have bought one more life."

Hubby and I talked on the way home about how we do this. How do we live eternally-minded when there are so many earthly things that require our attention (getting food on the table, keeping a roof over our heads, putting gas in the car, etc. etc.)? It's hard. But I think, for me anyway, it has to start with investing in people.

In our homeschool drama program in Sioux City, I found that if my goal was to put on a good show, I ended up making decisions that were not good for the kids. I had to adjust my goals. My objectives for that program were that 1) every kid came away having had a positive experience on the stage, 2) every kid grew and improved in some area during the production, and 3) every kid came to see theater as a means of worship and a means of ministry. And in the end, when we accomplished those goals, we ended up putting on a good show after all.

Invest in people. They are the only things on earth that are eternal. Lord, teach me how to do that every day.

A Tale of Two Plays

The first school is a private Christian school with a great drama program, known for its quality productions. It has a theater (a small black box theater, but still, its own space) with the resources to build extensive sets, buy nice costumes, and pay the royalties for well-known plays. It even has students receiving scholarships for their participation in the drama program. Play production is a class, built into the daily school schedule.

In the course of their preparation for the spring play, things aren't going as well as usual. The tech crew runs into some difficulty in its efforts to achieve the director's grand vision for the show. A key actor (one of those receiving one of the earlier-mentioned scholarships) is expelled and has to be replaced. The other actors are not completely on their game: lines aren't memorized when expected and so forth.

So, an email goes out to the parents of the play production class, regretting to inform them that the spring play has been cancelled two weeks prior to show day. The school's calendar had no room for pushing the date of the production back, and the director and administration felt that the performance would not be of a quality that would glorify God.

(. . . although, in all honesty, this parent wondered whose glory was really at stake here . . . )

The second school is also a private Christian school, but one just beginning its venture into the theatrical world. It is excited to offer its first ever drama production class (an after-school elective) with nine students and a novice director. They choose a play written by a school parent (royalty-free) and begin faithfully rehearsing once a week.

They have no budget. Zero dollars. All costumes, sets, and props are provided by parents of the students and volunteers at the school. The performance space is a youth worship area rented from the church that the school rents its weekly classroom space from, and they only have access to rehearse in the space in the last two weeks of rehearsal.

Two-thirds of the actors have never performed on stage before. The director has extensive performing experience but has never directed a play before. When they hit two weeks before production time, there are crucial costumes and props still lacking. The first run-through of the play in the actual performance space that week throws the newbie actors for a complete loop -- they forget lines, blocking, everything.

But they push through. They focus on what needs to be done and get it done. By performance night, they pull off an inaugural production for the school's theatrical department that surprises everyone attending with its fun and its message. And God was glorified . . . despite, and maybe even because of, all the imperfections.

Proud to have been a part of play number two. Just sayin'. Well done, Summit Christian Academy.

Saturday Night

Christmas 2013 just ended for me last Saturday night when my husband took me to see "Wicked" at the Majestic Theater. No, I had never seen "Wicked". Yes, that's kind of weird for someone as into theater as I am.

The evening started out with dinner. Since I picked the show, I let hubby pick the place to eat, and he chose a Mexican spot in Alamo Heights. And here's where our homebody tendencies show: we didn't build into our evening's schedule a 30-40 minute wait for a dinner table. Forty minutes? And then waiting to be served? Not happening -- so Mexican was out. We had Five Guys. Which I think I probably liked better. Mmm . . . Five Guys.

And it was a good thing we didn't try to make the Mexican place work, because as it was, we barely got there in time for the curtain to rise. Downtown traffic in San Antonio on a Saturday night? Unbelievable. We spent a full twenty minutes driving one block down Houston street. Luckily, I knew where a parking garage was and we turned off Houston, praying there was still room inside. There was -- at the very top. So we parked and hustled our well-dressed booties down the elevator and down crowded Houston street to the Majestic Theater.

Ah, the Majestic Theater! Beautiful. Just beautiful. Maybe one of the most beautiful theaters I've been in. Of course, I couldn't see much from our seats: the absolute top row of the balcony (the only seats left by a few days before Christmas when I received the gift from my husband). But I took a good look around at intermission. Bee-yoo-tiful.

And even that top row was a relatively pleasant experience. We had top row balcony seats for "Les Mis" in Philly one year, and my husband had to leave at intermission. The seats were so tightly packed in and it was so hot that high up that he was absolutely miserable. We had some nice cool air blowing on us at the top of the Majestic.

The show was fabulous. The theater was packed. And of course, one of the disadvantages of being in the top row balcony of a packed theater is being behind everyone else trying to leave when the show is over. But even then, the crowd moved along pretty efficiently, spilling us all back out onto Houston street.

Which was STILL crowded. And loud. Not until we saw some folks wearing ridiculous green hats did it occur to me that this was St. Patrick's Day weekend and maybe that accounted for the huge crowds. Of course, we've never been in downtown SA this late on a Saturday night, so maybe this is typical weekend stuff.

But if so, remind us to never go downtown that late on a Saturday night. The traffic!  Holy cow!!  It took us over an hour to move the eight blocks or so to get out of downtown and onto the highway. We sat . . . and sat . . . and sat . . .

. . . and watched people going into clubs. I've never been to a "club" on a Saturday night. I'm not sure I've been to a "club" at all, actually. I looked at these people dressed to the nines, a few already stumbling a bit, heard the music blaring, saw the flashing bright lights, and I thought, "There is nothing appealing about that scene to me at all." Nothing. I have an old high school friend who has played at clubs -- I might enjoy listening to his band sometime. But other than that, clubbing looks hellish to me from the outside.

Is this because I'm an old fart? Maybe. But I think even as a young fart, I would have chosen a quiet evening at home over that.

But young fart or old, I'll fight the crowded, noisy streets for a great night of theater. At least once in a while. Definitely worth it.

Las Nuevas Tamaleras

Our family saw the most interesting play last Friday. It was called Las Nuevas Tamaleras (The New Tamale-Makers). What was so interesting about it?

1) It was bilingual. One character spoke all Spanish; another spoke a mix of Spanish and English (probably what one would call Spanglish); the other three spoke English with some Spanish words thrown in here and there. The person who invited us (my husband's assistant at work, who was one of the actresses) told us that we would be able to figure out what was being said in Spanish from the context and gestures and stuff. Not quite. We got the gist of what was going on, but we surmised from the audience's laughs that a lot of the funniest lines came from Spanish-speaking Doña Mercedes, and we missed them.

2) At first, I didn't like the delivery of the actresses. They seemed to be speaking so slowly, it all felt very over-acted. And maybe it was. But it occurred to me later: even with my very limited Spanish vocabulary, I was picking up on a lot of it, and I think that was because the Spanish-speakers were speaking slowly, not rattling it all off like so many Spanish-speakers do. (Or like it sounds to us English-speakers -- I suppose to those who don't speak English, it sounds like we're talking fast, also.) Maybe the actresses were told to speak slowly -- Spanish and English -- so the native speakers of each in the audience would more easily understand the other. So, okay. I can appreciate that.

3) It was about a Mexican tradition of making tamales for Christmas, one we are aware of but unfamiliar with. A couple of elderly Mexican ladies, who have been in heaven bemoaning the fact that they can't make tamales in heaven, get sent down to help three clueless young Latinas at their first attempt at the task. 

As I said, this was a new cultural thing for us, the tamale business, but the audience was loving it.  In fact, this is a play they perform at this theater every December, and it has apparently become a family tradition for many in San Antonio to see it every year. I can imagine why; if this is a part of your culture, there was a lot here to appreciate. We appreciated it, even from the outside.

And wouldn't you know, we seemed to be inundated with tamales for the rest of the weekend! The church we visited on Sunday had a strong bilingual ministry (in fact, the associate pastor who preached at our service was from Mexico). They had a "tamalada" scheduled for the next day -- an open cooking class for anyone wanting to learn how to make tamales. And many of the tamales made there were apparently going to be served at a Posada Dinner later in the month.

Then our youngest picked Mamacita's for lunch after church (our favorite Mexican place we've found in town so far). The furious appetite we all had for some Mexican food after we left the play may have contributed to that choice.  I decided to be adventurous and try the tamales. None of us had ever had them before (well, hubby might have tasted one). I thought they were fine. Hubby and youngest were kind of, "meh". Eldest almost gagged. I'm not sure why, although she's not a big Mexican food fan anyway. I guess it's just as well I didn't go to the tamalada and bring home more tamales -- I'd have been eating them all myself.

All in all, a fascinating cultural weekend for us. And it got me psyched to start learning my Spanish again. Still looking for a Latina friend who will talk Español with me . . .

Stage Fright

I've performed on stage in some capacity for most of my life, and stage fright has rarely been an issue for me -- nothing beyond general nervousness that ends up just getting the blood pumping in your brain. The only handful of real debilitating stage fright episodes I've had came later, in relatively recent years.

The first was during auditions for "Godspell" in 2006. They asked for volunteers to go first during the singing part of the tryout. I shrugged and stepped up there -- no big deal.  Until the music started and I looked at everyone staring at me, and suddenly, the muscles in my gut froze and I couldn't get any air. And of course, my brain partially shut down at the same time. I don't know what I sounded like, but I muddled through enough to have them listen to me again later when I was calmer. I was ultimately assigned a couple solos, so they were gracious to me.

The next time was when the dance ministry coordinator at Hope Church talked me into dancing a solo in a service. In theory, I was a little nervous but fine with this idea. Until I went to the church during the week before my performance day to practice on the "stage" floor. I suddenly found myself hyperventilating, stiffening up, my brain completely shutting down. I'd never experienced anything like that before and I panicked -- which, of course, made it all worse. A second practice day elicited the same results, and when Sunday morning came, I genuinely feared that I would totally fall apart up there in front of everyone. I didn't, but I was quite aware that the Spirit was doing this through me because I was completely incapable at that point.

Episode three was yesterday. When a couple weeks ago my BSF class had to sing our opening songs a cappella because nobody answered the call for an accompanist, I decided this was ridiculous and volunteered. It had been 15 years or so since I'd accompanied anything, but it was no-brainer stuff to me . . . or so I thought.  When I got the music the day before lesson day and started practicing, it started up again: the brain freeze, the fingers stiffening, one slip of the hand to the wrong spot and I was lost and couldn't get it back again. I debated calling her back and saying, sorry, maybe next time when I have more time to practice. But I muddled my way through, and it turned out just fine last night.

What I've been considering after this recent episode is why now? After so many years, why all of a sudden has stage fright cropped up into my experience?  Some things these episodes had in common: they all involved skills I had down pretty solid, but had not shared publicly with anyone for a long time (or in the case of the dancing, ever). They also all came after a significant point in my life as a "performer" -- a point I can't identify by time or place but by when I realized I'd passed it.

I was doing a monologue at Hope where I was a street person -- one I had to take on at the last minute with only a couple days of preparation. As I was trying on various scrungy clothes pieces, trying to get the right filthy look, it suddenly occurred to me: ten years ago, it would have KILLED me to go on stage looking this ugly. Ten years ago, my performances were about me looking good. I would never have said that -- I certainly didn't think in my heart that it was so -- but it was. Something had changed now. I actually had people after that street person skit tell me they didn't even know it was me up there. And that was perfect. My concern now was not about what they thought of me; my concern was now that God speak truth to them through me, that I become invisible, in a sense, and the message shine brightly.

And not until then did the Enemy attack me with the stage fright, which always feels more external to me than internal, weirdly enough. I remember hearing once that when the Enemy seems to be working overtime to get you, you must be on the right track. I guess there's some comfort in that. Even more comfort in God's record for speaking to his people more powerfully through my stage fright than any other time. For when I am weak, then I am strong.

My Three Big Pet Peeves in the Theater

My youngest's first rehearsal for her current play brought to mind my three big pet peeves in theater. (Yes, that's because one of these was an issue – I'll let you guess which.)

1. Wasted rehearsal time. Sometimes, this is unavoidable – particularly when you get to the last week or so and you're polishing up details. Everyone needs to be present, even if they're spending a lot of time just sitting waiting. But at the beginning of the process, when you're doing the blocking, or even at the middle, when you know you're going to be focusing on a particular scene or two, there is no need to have extra people there hanging around needlessly.
   Especially when you are working with kids. Kids are already squirrely – the last thing you need is to get them in the habit of messing around, not focusing, during rehearsal time. You'll never get them back.  When I directed the homeschool plays, I always put out a schedule of what scenes I was rehearsing when and let parents know their kids didn't need to be there if they weren't in the scenes being rehearsed – in fact, I encouraged them not to come. And when it was unavoidable to have kids sitting around, I tried to have other stuff for them to do. Like, one of my assistants would take them in another room to run lines, or try on costumes, or something. Dead time is your enemy when working with with children!
   But even when working with adults, it shows a real lack of respect for people's time if you are well aware that you're not likely to get to any scene they are in but require them to be present for a two-hour rehearsal anyway. Get yourself organized as the director and treat your people right.
2. Long, boring scene changes. The pacing of a show is so important. When the audience ends up staring at a curtain or a blackout for even just sixty seconds, it breaks the pace and annoys everyone. Ugh. I hate it.
   I  usually write my plays with small scenes during the set changes, scenes that could be done to the side or in front of a curtain (although I never had the luxury of working on a stage with a curtain). We've even done musical interludes with random characters crossing the stage interacting in mime – a great way to increase the stage time of some of your minor characters and still keep the audience's attention and interest.
   And by all means, rehearse your set changes!! They are critical to the show. They need to be as smooth and perfected as possible.
3. Backstage chatter. This one may be a personal issue. I think I have some hearing problems (they run in the family). When I'm backstage and people are talking, even if they're only whispering, I have a very hard time hearing what is going on on-stage. Then I'm liable to miss cues and such -- and it's pretty certain I'll get really snitty. It only took a couple homeschool plays to learn that I needed to exile myself from backstage if I was going to continue to have positive feelings toward my actors.
   But even without my hearing problems, talking backstage is just plain rude. All too often, actors have no idea how loud they actually are and that they can be heard by the audience. How very disrespectful to steal the audience's attention during the scenes their fellow castmates have been working so hard on.

So there you go. How to do a play with Mrs. K and keep her happy. :)  Break a leg, all.

 

But It Doesn't FEEL Like Worship . . .

When you do a lot of performing – as a musician, actor, dancer, speaker, even as a teacher – you get a feel for how the energy flows during a good show. During a performance, energy comes from the stage and is absorbed by the audience. In a really great performance, the audience gives energy back to the performers as well. It is an interaction – almost a "spiritual" one – between performer and observer.

I've experienced this many times before in my lifetime of doing various kinds of “performing”. But I didn't really articulate it for myself until right after we moved to Siouxland and were visiting churches. It became clear to me that some churches were performing on Sunday morning rather than worshipping. I could feel it in the energy flow. Not that there's anything wrong with performing per se -- not at all.  It's just that it's not always equal to worship.

In worship, the energy flow starts from stage and seats together and moves upward to God – a vertical movement rather than a horizontal one.  And you know when the worship is genuine because you feel the energy coming back. Again, an interaction . . . but every human in the room is on the same side of the interaction. The comraderie that a band feels during a concert, or that a play cast feels at curtain call . . . this unity can be experienced immediately and powerfully even among a group of strangers when genuine worship is happening.

I have spent many years off and on over the course of my life involved in drama ministry. And the bulk of that ministry involved skits performed during worship services -- I've even been writing those skits myself in the past few years. But I told some friends recently that I'm not sure I want to be involved in that kind of drama ministry anymore.

An article a friend posted recently began to help me articulate why. It was titled “The Difference Between Congregational Worship and a Concert“, and it elaborated on these three points:

1. If we, the congregation, can't hear ourselves, it's not worship.

2. If we, the congregation, can't sing along, it's not worship.

3. If you, the praise band, are the center of attention, it's not worship. 

When I applied these concepts to the skits we do on Sunday mornings, I saw the source of my concern.  For most of our skits, the actors are the center of attention; the audience is not participating -- they are absorbing.  It is a performance energy flow.

 

Now, I understand that preaching and teaching are a similar phenomenon in a worship service.  But anyone who has heard a really excellent preacher or teacher knows the difference between teaching that is an act of worship and teaching that is a show of knowledge or oratory skill.  My concern is finding that distinction with my Sunday morning dramas, because I don't think it is often there.

 

And right now, I'm not sure I feel a pull to look very hard for it.  I just need to worship.

I've made a commitment to our church here to continue to write scripts for them – and I will, as long as they want them from me. But for myself . . . for my own Sunday mornings . . . I have a need now to separate my performance time from my worship time.

 

 

Pilgrim's Progress

I've spent my afternoons this week leading a drama camp for sixteen middle school homeschoolers.  And I'm exhausted.  :)  This was a crazy idea Kim and I had -- to try to put together a show in five afternoons.  But I'm amazed at what these kids have done.

It helps that we are reprising one of our first plays:  Pilgrim's Progress.  If you're unfamiliar with this title, it's a book written by John Bunyan in the late 1600s.  Very heavy reading, full of scriptural references and seminary-worthy exposition, only recommended for the very literary-minded.  But we read a children's version in homeschool which boiled it down to just the allegorical story of Christian's journey to the Celestial City -- and this is what I based my script on, with a lot of comical character adaptations.  Like, Goodwill gives instructions regarding the path like a cheesy flight attendant.  Ignorance is a hippie.  Knowledge is a cowboy who greets him, "Well, howdy, pilgrim" . . . a la John Wayne.

Amid all the stress and harriedness of putting the show together, it has been nice to revisit this story.  One of the things I like about it so much is that there is something here to speak to everyone, wherever they are on their walk.  I've enjoyed being reminded this week about how the King knows his pilgrims are headed toward the Slough of Despond and sends Help (a superhero in our version) just when they need him.

And about how our burden is removed at the cross . . . never to be seen again.

About Christian's battle with Self, where he is almost defeated by the recollection of the many failures he has experienced on the way.

About the Shining One reminding him that his mistakes were already forgiven, way back at the cross.

And the one that always speaks to me the most: about how he languishes in the dungeon of the Giant Despair until he remembers the Key of Promise he was given, a key that unlocks any prison doors.

I love doing this play.  And I'm so grateful for the opportunity to do it one more time, even if it is a crazy, harried week putting it together.  Your last opportunity, Siouxland friends:  Pilgrim's Progress, 6:30pm tonight at Sunnybrook Church, a FREE 45-minute production.  These kids have worked hard and deserve an audience!  Come see us!

Kim

I have a friend named Kim.  I don't remember exactly where we met, but I remember where we became friends -- at a park by Sunnyside Elementary watching our kids play Ultimate Frisbee once a week the summer of 2009.  (Well, her daughter played -- my daughters mainly hung around for the social time.)

We sat in our lawn chairs at the side of the "field" and talked.  And somehow our talk turned to drama.  And somehow we came up with the idea of trying to do a play with the homeschoolers that fall.  I'm still not sure where we got the chutzpah.

Thus began four years and eight plays worth of collaboration.  And it has been a God-ordained collaboration.  I never cease to be amazed at how well we mesh in this endeavor.  I write the plays and run the rehearsals -- doing the things I enjoy and do best.  She gathers costumes and props, manages set building, collects money, makes and copies programs -- all the things that would make me insane, but apparently she enjoys (well, I don't know that she enjoys hunting down people for their money . . . ).  This drama program would never have happened if I'd had to do it alone, because her job would have made me cry on a regular basis and I would have been too stressed to go on after the first year.

And yet, despite our different roles, we think so much alike.  I look at the emails she sends out to the parents every week (and just the fact that she sends them, methodically, every week) and think, "That's just how I would have done that.  Yay!"  When we sit down together at my kitchen table after every audition to cast the show, we both come away awed at how God used our separate perceptions of everyone to pull together a perfect cast.  It never fails about halfway through a season that we make some comment about how there's simply no other way this show could have been cast.

God consistently has taken the fish and loaves we each offer to him and multiplied them to feed a multitude.

Kim never gets the credit she deserves for all this.  Because I'm the loudmouth in front of everybody, I seem to get most of the kudos.  And yet she never complains.  She said last Friday that I was the "face" of the program.  But she is the heart that keeps the blood pumping to make it live.

A mutual friend told me once that she was praying for God to bring me a Kim in my drama ministry at Sunnybrook.  I told her I could use a Kim in every aspect of my life.  My Barnabas.  Thank you, friend.

Sweet Gig

I've had a sweet gig here in Sioux City.  I'm in two positions where I get to write scripts that pretty much have a guarantee of being performed for an audience.  And I get to direct those scripts, so I can ensure that they are performed as close to my vision as possible.  And I get to work with actors who are enthusiastic and fun and eager to do well.  And I get to hand off the icky stuff I don't enjoy (sets, costumes, props, etc.) to someone else who does those things well and enjoys them.  Seriously, a sweet, sweet gig. 

Today ends one chapter of that gig.  My last full-length play with the FOCUS Players.  (We're doing a drama camp the first week of June, but that's something new we're trying and won't be a full-length play.)  For all I know, this may be the last full-length play I write and direct ever.  I mean, I certainly never dreamed when we came to Sioux City that God had this adventure in store for me here.  Who can imagine what he has in store for me in San Antonio?  I'm trying not to predict too much, because then I'll end up manipulating things to meet my expectations -- and God's plans always end up better than mine.

At last Tuesday's rehearsal, I was a bit worried about today's show.  My producer Kim and I have noticed that there is always a rehearsal, usually about half way through the process, when we get that panicked feeling that this is never going to come together in time.  Tuesday was that rehearsal.  And two days before dress rehearsal is not an opportune moment for that rehearsal.

But I had faith in my kids.  They are good kids.  They want to do a good show.  They knew they were weak on Tuesday, and they knew what they needed to do . . . and they did it.  Dress rehearsal yesterday raised my confidence again.  Really, I LOVE these kids.

Not that my primary goal is a great show.  That's an obvious aim, but not a primary goal.  My primary goals with the FOCUS Players are 1) that every student grow in some way during each show (in acting ability, in courage to try something new, in relationships with others); 2) that every student come away having had a good experience, even if they decide that theater is not their thing; and 3) that every student sees that drama can be an expression of worship and a means of ministry . . . and if playing pretend on a stage for applause can be worship and ministry, then so can every other gift God has given them -- mathematical ability, mechanical knowledge, people skills, fashion sense -- EVERYTHING that God has given them can and should be given back for His glory.

These are good kids.  I think they get that.  I will miss them so much.  Break a leg, my friends.  You've been a great blessing in my life.

The Great Game Plan

I wrote a play for the younger homeschoolers a couple years ago called "The Great Game Plan".  I still don't care for the title, but I loved the play.  It was about a girl named Teagan (played by my daughter -- but that's not why I loved the play) who dreams that the game pieces from all her games come alive and she joins them in an effort to capture the mischievous Mouse Trap mice.  In the process, she learns that all the characters she meets -- Cavity Sam from the Operation game, Lord Licorice from Candyland, the Hungry-Hungry-Hippos, and many others -- are created by their maker (e.g. Milton Bradley) to accomplish a certain purpose, and when they accomplish that purpose, they feel fulfilled.  And Teagan also was created by her Maker to do certain things.  She, in fact, is a synthesizer; she puts things together in new ways to do new things . . . which is how she helps them catch the mice.

The Mouse Trap diver (one of our lead characters):
"When I jump in buckets, I feel . . . complete!"

This has become kind of a theme in my life.  Because I believe in an all-knowing, all-powerful, loving and purposeful God, I also believe that we are all specially designed and placed to accomplish certain things, and if we do those things, not only do we feel fulfilled, but the world around us functions more smoothly.

Paul, in scripture, uses a body analogy.  We are all one body but each a different part.  The eyes were made to see -- the feet were made to walk -- the lungs were made to get oxygen and get rid of carbon dioxide.  One part can't do another part's job, and if any part isn't working right, the body as a whole suffers.

I read something a while back that applied that idea to the secular world as well (duh -- as if there's a "secular world" not also made by God):

“Food pantries are important, but they’re not the reason far fewer of us go hungry today than ever before.  Most of us have jobs in which we never hand food to anyone.  And, strange as it may sound, that’s exactly why so many more people have plenty to eat.  Fewer go hungry today because some of us lend money to farmers so they can buy new tractors.  Fewer go hungry today because some of us design even better tractors, or tinker in workshops to keep the old ones running.  Fewer go hungry today because some of us look at spreadsheets to figure out how companies could spend less money on tractors and produce even more food. 

“Jesus told us to feed the hungry.  That’s what bankers, engineers, mechanics, and consultants do every day.  They’re table servers.”

In other words, figure out what you're created to do, what you're gifted at, what you have a passion for . . . and do it with intelligence, with integrity and for the glory of God, whatever it is . . . and you will be a part of God bringing justice and righteousness to his fallen world.  You may not be the hand giving the bread to the poor, but the hand needs eyes to see the need, blood to provide the energy, a heart to move the blood, and feet to get it to the place of need. 

Just be you.  An excellent you.  God is has the Great Game Plan and makes it all work together for good.

What a Year

We interrupt this Friday Faith Portraits series for an important announcement:  it's SHOW DAY!

Today I'm directing 26 2nd-5th grade homeschoolers in a little play that I wrote called "Wemmicksville" (free performances at 4pm and 6:30pm at Sunnybrook Church, for any Siouxland readers who want to join us).  I'm kind of a flutter of mixed emotions today.

"Wemmicksville", a play based on
Max Lucado's children's books

To start with, I'm amazingly NOT nervous.  I was nervous yesterday for dress rehearsal, which was weird.  I usually have a brain-numb, body-jittery feeling all day the day of a show.  Maybe that's still coming (it's early), but right now, I'm good.  This is as polished as this show is going to be.  About two-thirds of these little ones are making their stage debut today, and I expect some baubles, but it'll all be good.  The kids are cute, and they've come a long way.  I'm proud of them.

I'm also feeling a little melancholy because I expect this to be my last show with FOCUS Players.  But then, I expected the spring one to be my last one.  And before that, I expected last fall's show to be the last one.  Honestly, I never DREAMED we'd still be in town to do a play this school year . . .

Which brings me to the other emotion I'm dealing with, one which I can't quite define.  It was the night before the FOCUS play last fall that hubby told me his job at Blue Bunny had been eliminated.  It's been a year.  And such a year.  If you had told me then that we'd still be waiting for employment after a year, I would have cried.

But it really hasn't been terrible.  My husband has been wise in how he invested our money, and we have been wise in spending over the years (insert political comment here), so financially, we are okay and should be okay for still a while longer, if necessary.  I expected he and I to be at each other's throats being around each other all day long, but we haven't been.  In fact, I enjoy having him around. 

The hardest part has been not being able to plan much for the immediate future.  The start of the school year was tough -- we hadn't expected to be here and didn't expect to be here long, so we've been reluctant to commit to activities, groups, etc.  (Even the play -- I had another director lined up ready to step in and take over if we had to leave mid-course.)  But frankly, I think this has been good for me.  I'm not naturally a spontaneous, go-with-the-flow person.  God has forced me into that mindset this year.  I'm having to depend on him day to day.  I'm having to live in the moment -- do what feels like the right thing to do right now, not worrying about the long-term issues.  I can't do anything about them anyway.

Amazingly, I can say now that this has been a good year.  A year of adventure (hit the Panama link to the right to read about that), a year of togetherness, a year of growth, a year of challenge.....

But I'll admit, I'm ready for less challenge.  I'm ready for a job for hubby.  Prayers appreciated.