Annie Jr: a view from backstage

I put my finger to my lips, and immediately my little protégé shrinks back, mimicking my gesture and ducking a little further into the shadows. Any second now, eight orphans are going to come belting off the stage, and those of us whose costumes are head-to-toe black will replace them in the darkness that follows. It is our job to unstick the self-made bunkbeds and carry them out into the alley in as little time as possible. During yesterday’s practice – the first with the actual beds and screens – it took us nearly 5 full minutes. About 3 minutes longer than desired.

My stomach is in knots, and for the tenth time, I whisper to Jacob and John exactly what their duties are when the lights go off. For the tenth time they humor me and nod dutifully before peering back through our makeshift window to spy onto the world of a 1930’s orphanage. Seeing the eagerness on John’s face, I allow myself a second to fully engage in the musical notes being declared on the other side of the fabric curtains. Lyrics from “It’s a Hard Knock Life” alternate with bucket slamming and sponge swinging. Sweet little Molly starts barking out orders, and it’s comical to see the others pretend fear as they scramble for mops, brooms and sheets. One broom falls over, and I make a mental note to throw it onto the bed before we take it out. The actresses playing Kate and Duffy seem to be in fine form today, their faces hardened and their voices clear. A fleece of red curls pops up above the rest as Annie jumps onto Pepper’s back, and the final chorus rings out over the captivated audience. Cheers ensue.

That is when the lights go out, and I’m jerked back to the immediacy of the present. Jacob, John, and I bolt out onto stage. My foot catches on a metal pail and sends it flying, but fortunately, the continued clapping of our adoring parents and colleagues masks the noise. Beds are jerked apart, sheets flung over shoulders, and beds whipped off the stage in just over 2 minutes. Sweat beads coat my palms, making me nearly lose my grip on the beds. When the music cues and the lights flood the set once again where Annie is getting ready to sing “Tomorrow,” I exhale deeply before glancing at the list of what will come next. Just as I’m getting ready to whisper-yell new instructions at John, I catch the look of wonderment on his face. It’s so perfect, so pure. His mind is fully engaged with the scene unfolding before him, even if he’s seen it multiple times in practice. Annie demands to be watched, heard, and enjoyed. My heart physically softens. The instructions can wait, at least another 2 minutes or so. Rather, I take a seat, breathe deeply, find my own hole in the fabric to peek through, and join John, ever the dark shadows behind the scenes.

2nd Blog

It's time to go public and come clean: I've been cheating on this blog by creating a second one. And rather than just being about my random ramblings of life, it has a very specific purpose. (And a pen name. Heehee.)

You see, I have a plan. A plan to walk. For a month. In Spain. (I'm a bit crazy.) However, if you would like to follow me on this adventure and lend your support (and prayers), I'd love it.

Check it out: The Santiago Tales.

Love and Grace

I’m sitting in a large hall beneath three futuristic looking chandeliers – the oddities in this medieval room otherwise full of columns, crests, and iron-wrought railings. The echoes of our worship still cling to our fingertips and tongues, both of which I now use to embrace one of my junior small group girls whose body is shaking with sobs. Eying my co-leader, she knows to lead out the rest of the group to our room where the chocolate treasure trove will be unveiled, and where, Lord-willing, deep thoughts will be shared and discussed. We have just heard amazing truth from Colossians. God’s Spirit is at work in many hearts, and I see his evidence before me as my girl and I smile at each other through tears.

Grace (not her real name) allows me to hold her head to my shoulder while I wait, wondering how best to pray for her. When she finally finds her voice again, I’m genuinely surprised at the part of the message that God has struck into her heart this evening. “Why does God love me? I know myself, and I don’t love me. How could God find something lovable within me?!”

I’m not quite sure what to say. My mind searches frantically for a clear answer to this question in Scripture. Nothing. What a mysterious thing, God’s love. If simple human love is a topic best left to our poets and philosophers, how can I even hope to describe God’s perfect love that has called all of creation into being and endows it with purpose and meaning?

Grace is right. There really isn’t anything lovable within us, excepting that God puts it there. He created us out of dust and then elects to lavish his love on us simple creatures. “He rescued us from the dominion of darkness and brought us into the kingdom of the Son he loves … One you were alienated from God and were enemies in your minds because of your evil behavior. But now he has reconciled you by Christ’s physical body through death to present you holy in his sight…” (Col 1). It’s all him; our salvation is completely undeserved and unearned, and so is his love for us. But that doesn’t explain the why.

I watch our shadows dance on the columns behind Grace. What if I chose to love my shadow? Would that seem as wasteful as God’s love for me, a mere human? How could my shadow ever capture the essence of my soul, yet – as we just heard that night – all the fullness of God’s deity dwells in Christ, and Christ dwells in us. A God who contains all treasures of wisdom and knowledge living inside of me?! Am I meant to understand?

Eventually I am able to look Grace in the eye and shrug my shoulders. “Nope, I’ll never know why he loves you. Or me. But I know that he does, and that’s enough.” She doesn’t nod right away, her thoughts obviously distant, outside our current castle walls. I fear my answer fell far short of any wisdom. I know it did. But eventually she takes my Bible from my hands, and while she reads again about God’s love for her through Christ, I am able to do nothing but dwell again on this truth: I owe my life to love and grace.