Maybe it's in the story we choose...

A few weekends ago I was blessed enough to be able to go home and celebrate my grandmother's 70th birthday. It was awesome and I couldn't help but realize how lucky I am that in 25 years of life, I still have all four of my grandparents and have gotten to watch all of them celebrate their 70th birthdays and both sets celebrate 50 years of marriage. Pretty amazing. But story for another day.

Point being, in getting together with my family, and getting to spend time with my grandfather and his sisters, I realized that I come from a line of amazing storytellers. No matter what mundane, everyday scenario they're telling, it's always intriguing and usually hilarious. I find myself never wanting to open my mouth when I'm around them because I never want to cause them to stop talking. These are people who live in tiny farm towns in Iowa and somehow, every time I hear about the relatively slow lives that they live, I get sucked into it like a Harry Potter book. They talk about things like the farmer down the road or the lengths they went to to get Rosie the hummingbird to drink Aunt Shirley's sweet syrupy concoction. It's not that they're overly expressive or animated it's just the things that they choose to tell. It's the details they include and the details they leave out. It's the way they notice the quirky little pieces that make the story different than every other story, that make today different than every other routine day.

For most of my life I thought I wanted to be a writer. When I was a child, I wrote stories all the time. I went to school to do journalism. I wanted to write for a magazine for awhile. I was a writing coach in college. I thought that I adored writing. But as time goes on I realize more and more that it's not writing, but storytelling, that I love. And now I know that it's in my blood and although there are days where I think I'm crazy for the things that I pay attention to, I'm now fully confident that crazy or not, it's in my genes. There are times when people talk about my ability to write or my gift of writing and it almost makes me uncomfortable. While I so appreciate the thought, I'm ultimately not a great writer. I punctuate where my thoughts end, could care less about grammar, and start a ton of sentences with "and" or "but" because I usually write exactly what I think. But as I read back on some of my posts, I realize that much like my aunts, I think what gets people is the story I choose to tell.

I'm not going to tell you how beautiful Dorothy's little voice was. I couldn't actually describe that if I wanted to and it's kind of a given. She was Dorothy. Obviously she can sing. But my hope in telling you that this little girl needed a nap right before the show and told me that she wanted me to be there when she woke up hopefully spoke a lot more to the kind of person I was dealing with. Hopefully it spoke about the fact that she was the perfect Dorothy because in real life she was just this sweet little affectionate girl who adored the people around her. I can tell you that I feel like I live a "These Things Don't Happen to Normal People" life, but it's in telling you that I punctured my Wendy's cup with an earring and diet coke sprayed all over my car that it makes a little more sense.

I think I've probably been given a gift for it. But what am I really doing with it? What other stories am I telling? Am I telling people that Jesus died on a cross to save them from their sins? Not usually. Which is convicting enough. But would that
be the story I need to tell anyway? Because for me, and the way that I think, that would be like saying that the girl who played Dorothy could sing really well. How about this story...

That after being unemployed for 6 months and feeling desperately lost, my knees quite literally hit the ground and I said, "God, please...anything. I don't care if you give me a job, just show me where you want me to be. Just give me a part of the country to look in so that I feel like I have some sense of direction." And about 12 hours later I discovered a job posting for my dream job in Austin, TX...24 hours later I had an interview with them...and 3 months later I made the 14 hour drive with all of my belongings.

And if I feel the need to be funny, why aren't I telling this story...

That one Sunday afternoon in Austin, TX, not long after I moved here, I was feeling incredibly lonely. I was sitting outside at a restaurant and I prayed and said, "God, I don't know where you are. I don't know where anybody is. I just feel so alone." Minutes later a little green gecko literally appeared on the umbrella in the middle of my table. I watched him as he slowly and carefully walked down the stand and made his way onto the table in front of me. For the longest time, he just stayed there with me. Looking at me, looking at my food, wandering around, but never leaving. Even when I would move. For those of you that know how skiddish little lizards can be, you'll understand why this didn't make a whole world of sense. But I felt peace in that 20 or so minutes he was with me. I remember laughing and saying, "God really? A lizard?" But it worked. I was laughing rather than crying. I was feeling peace rather than anxiety. I was feeling companionship rather than loneliness.

On days when I feel overwhelmed with the thought about sharing the Gospel, I need to think about what story I'm going to tell. It's something I know how to do. It's in finding those funny, silly, quirky moments with Jesus that will make Him come alive. It's in the weight of a time of desperation that God swooped and rescued me that make Him compassionate, because simply saying that we were made by a compassionate and loving God seems like a distant and vague idea to most, even Christians. It's in not leaving out the details of God just because I'm scared of the reaction. Because if I choose to tell any of these little stories and leave God out of them, then maybe I'm telling the wrong story.

Maybe, just maybe, it's all in the story I choose.

Should this really make me as happy as it does?

Here's one for you...

After realizing that I have like .7 of a mile left before I run out of gas, freaking out, praying and hitting a station to fill up, I head to Wendy's for lunch. They hand me my diet coke in a paper cup and I set it in my cup holder, just like I always would. I put the straw in, start to drive off and pick it up to take a drink. I notice one of my earrings dangling off the bottom of the cup. Hmm...that's weird, must have set them in the cup holder. Never once considering HOW the earring is attached to the cup I yank it off. For those of you who have never seen what happens when large amounts of liquid is trying to get through a pin size hole, it doesn't merely drip, but sprays. I am now trying to drive my stick shift and figure out what to do with the projectile stream of diet coke that is coming out of the bottom of my cup and spraying horizontally all over my car. I quickly reach for a napkin put it at the bottom and set the cup back in the other cup holder. At which point the diet coke sprays up and out like a fountain and lands nicely on my knee.

These things don't happen to normal people.

A pretty sweet Scarecrow

Sarah, your blogging begging has not been in vain.

Here we go...back to the Wizard of Oz and Miss Carina... Carina came into auditions wanting to be the scarecrow and like Sam, completely nailed the audition. I quickly realized that Carina is one of, if not the most naturally gifted kid I've ever worked with. Her instincts on stage are almost unbelievable and her expressions are well...
...priceless. As I looked through picture after picture of the show, I couldn't stop laughing because there wasn't a moment on stage that she wasn't completely animated and in character. She has such a laid back personality that when things went wrong, she was the kid I could count on to fix it. She was the kid that was going to laugh if something fell apart, not get stressed out. She was the kid who was going to recover a line that got dropped. She was the kid who would just sing her song, loud, clear and on key, and do the dance with it and rarely miss a step.

And she and I connected quickly. When we had a discussion about whether or not she'd ever done theatre before, which she hadn't, and she told me that she wouldn't do theatre very often because she loves soccer too much, I just smiled.
This is the only picture I have of her with her hat on. It wasn't ready for her on opening night.

Carina is one of the smartest, most mature kids I've ever met. I know there isn't a thing in the world she's found that she isn't capable of doing and doing well. But she still had that sweet silliness that kids have. She was my reminder to laugh when things were funny. She's the one who when I was getting frustrated because of the giggling fit all the kids were having said, "Miss Jen...laughter is contagious you know," and then kept right on laughing.

One of the best things that I'll remember about this show is the friendship that she and Dorothy formed. Off stage, they became those characters. Just two people who had known each other for such a short time, but had a friendship that appeared to have been decades old. When Carina would leave for the day it wouldn't take Alexis 5 minutes before she'd say, "I miss my friend. I wish she'd come back." And they were just always happy being together. One day when Alexis got overwhelmed and started crying saying she wasn't sure she wanted to be Dorothy anymore, Carina was right there. She didn't say much (at first) but was just there with her. When I said, "Alexis honey, you've got to go be Dorothy because so many people are looking forward to seeing you. And people are looking forward to seeing Carina. If you don't go on stage, Carina won't get to either and people want to see how talented you girls are."...to which Carina said, "I love me! I'm awesome at this!" And we all just laughed.

Carina's is one of the personalities I miss the most on a day to day basis. No matter what she could always make me smile. I knew that if I walked in the theatre, without fail, she would smile really big, run up to me and give me a huge hug. She was always ready to work. When we had our Juneteenth celebration and the kids got to play at that all day she came up to me at 5:00 and said, "Miss Jen can we start rehearsal now?" She always wanted to do Act 1, Scene 8...her main scene, even though we never needed to rehearse her because the minute you told her how to do something she had it down.

When her mom told me on the last day that Carina had said, "Mom, I really want to come to this camp next year, " I'm pretty sure that I didn't do a very good job of containing my excitement. I can only hope we're that lucky.

That's all for now

There's lots more to come but for tonight, I'm going to leave and enjoy a 4 day weekend, away from work, away from my computer. So until Wednesday! :)

The one you've all been waiting for...

Sam the Ham. Sam is one of the sweetest, most distracted and narcoleptic little boys I've ever met in my life. Exhibit A- Intermission during our opening night show:To attempt to describe what it was like to work with him or to watch him on stage is impossible. He's HILARIOUS. He wanted to be the lion so bad and nailed his audition for it. But it was very clear that to have him do that big of a part was going to be entertaining at the very least. Half the time he has a very lethargic, dry personality and doesn't say too much. He would walk off stage during rehearsals, never considering that in 3 minutes he was going to have to enter again, and curl up on a table under the piano cover and fall dead asleep in that 3 minutes. It was impressive. I remember during one rehearsal, early on before we had Toto, we're going and going and they're doing so well and I'm thinking, "Wow...they're really in character. They're really feeling it." And Sam stops and raises his hand. "Um...Miss Jen...after the show is over, can I pet the puppy?" What? I said, "Sam, you're going to be on stage with the dog during the entire show." He responded, "Yeah. I know, but when the show is over can I pet it?" And that was just Sam. The other half of the time he was wildly energetic and completely animated and on point.

Oh, and his lion butt was huge. I mean huge on his little self. I will never forget the first rehearsal he had his costume on and for his first entrance he's was supposed to hide behind a bush and jump off one of the upstage platforms. One of the girls said his cue line and he didn't jump out. So she said his cue line again. I knew he was behind the platform somewhere, but he still didn't jump out. I said, "Sam? Are you going to come onstage?" And I heard his cute little voice say, "I can't get my leg up onto the platform. My butt's too big."
The audience loved Sam and Sam loved the audience. I never had any idea what he was going to do when he was on stage but I knew whatever it was, the audience was going to get a kick out of it. No matter how many times I said, "Sam, do not stop in the middle of the show and wave to the audience," he'd do it. And that was eventually okay with me. He started this thing where the first time he goes to see the Wizard and the Wizard tells him to step forward he'd step up and scream like a girl. I have no idea where it came from or what gave him the thought to do it, but I think it got more laughs than anything else in the show.

And quite possibly my favorite story, which I didn't even know about until days after the show is this...

Our yellow brick road was a ramp that came out from the stage and went into the audience. One night during the performance, I remember hearing the four main characters head out on it singing, "We're Off to See the Wizard," then I heard some kind of noise, Sam yelled something, and the audience cracked up. We had already blacked out and I had no idea what had happened or what Sam said, and no one else back stage seemed to have heard him either. So, I just went on about what we were doing and didn't think anything else of it. A few days later, I found out that the Tinman had tripped on the yellow brick road, fallen forward and landed on the Scarecrow and Dorothy, creating a nice little pile that Sam then tripped and fell into. So, we had a little Wizard of Oz wipeout right there on the yellow brick road. What I didn't know is that Sam's parents had apparently gotten on him a little bit about being too silly during the show and told him to reel it in a bit. I guess because of that he was a little nervous when all four of them piled on top of each other on the yellow brick road because he yelled, "WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!?" at the other three and stomped off.

i love that kid.

Dorothy Gale from Kansas

Alexis was my Sally Brown. She was my risk. She was my little underdog who completely shined. Alexis was in A Christmas Carol here at the Carver this past December and was so sweet, but so quiet and reserved. When she came to audition for The Wizard of Oz, I expected that same quiet spirit. She came in with her short brown hair, cute little glasses and wearing shorts and a t-shirt, looking just like the Alexis we had in A Christmas Carol. But when she read for Dorothy, something came out that I wasn't expecting at all. She got it. She understood the lines. She knew the inflection and the tone of voice in them and regardless of what her face was doing, her precious little voice was just Dorothy. There was no way around it. And then she sang, and I was toast...

But Alexis is 9 and I always go through that "Can this tiny little person really handle that big of a part?" We did what I've done many times before and we talked to her mom about it. I know a lot of theatre type people wouldn't recommend that but in situations like this you have to know that the parents are supportive of it and will help them and encourage them through the stress. When we said, "Um...we didn't know Alexis could sing like that," her mom's response was, "Oh yeah, she can sing!" Alexis was hoping to be Glinda. Apparently her mom said, "Honey what if they give you Dorothy?" And her response was, "Oh I can't be Dorothy. My hair's not long enough." It's things like that that make my heart melt for children's theatre...the opportunity to defy these kids expectations and teach them to defy their own. So we gave her the part and her mom did what any good mom would do with a short-haired Dorothy...put a weave in.

Every day we had cute, fun little Alexis running around, but the night of the dress rehearsal, she came around the corner after getting her makeup done and I had a Dorothy. She couldn't stop looking in the mirror at herself. And I loved it. I'm definitely not in the business of encouraging kids to look any different than they are made to look and I absolutely don't want them to grow up any faster than they need to, but I was really grateful to be standing there to see her in one of, if not the first, moment in her life that she realized she is beautiful...the same kid who had cried in my arms a few days before because someone was picking on her for what she looked like.

Alexis is one of the most affectionate people I've ever known. She just has this kindness about her that is so precious. There are two moments I will always remember from this show.

There was one day after rehearsal that I started to walk away from the theatre and she came running after me and said, "Wait Miss Jen you didn't give me a hug!" I walked back to give her a hug, but before I could she stood on her toes, grabbed my face between her hands and just stared at me for a strangely long time. Eventually she pulled my head in toward hers until our foreheads were touching and she just looked in my eyes for a few seconds, pulled her face away, pulled my head down, kissed it and turned and bounced off. I couldn't help but smile because it was just Alexis being Alexis.

The other moment was opening night Friday. All of the kids had been at the theatre all day and rehearsing really hard all week. They were tired to say the very least and while most of them had taken a nap, Alexis and our Wicked Witch had stayed up being little girls, giggling and talking. But the tired hit Alexis hard and about 2 hours before show time she became a total little girl, rubbing her eyes and crying saying she wanted to go home but insisting that it had nothing to do with being sleepy. We went in the dressing room and I finally got her to lay down on the couch and immediately her eyelids got really heavy. I was sitting next to her and all of a sudden her eyes opened really wide and she said, "When I wake up I want you to be here," and she laid her hed in my lap and curled herself around me. I said okay and it was one of those moments where I thought, "I don't have time for this, but it's the most important thing right now." It was the opportunity to learn from all those other moments that I've let slip by before and not take that one for granted.

Alexis did a fabulous job. I knew the kid had become a star when during the dress rehearsal (with an audience of her peers no less) her skirt fell off, all the way, twice, and she giggled. When I looked out on stage and somehow between two hands was managing to hold Toto, a basket, an oil can and her skirt up, I knew we'd turned her into a performer.