On my Knees

It’s that time of year again when I’m living on my knees. No, I wish this were a blog about my need for and faithfulness in prayer. Alas, I’m talking about play season.

My first backstage experience was in college, and of course as a 19-year-old student, it felt completely normal to be kneeling on the stage while using a hot-glue gun to create a chandelier out of plastic cutlery. Up in the rafters of that show, we knelt all the time to pass papers up and down to each other. Even in my early years at BFA behind the curtain, I found myself on my knees more often than I could’ve anticipated -- fixing a prop that had just come apart in the last scene with duct tape, helping Anne of Green Gables slip out of her shoe and quickly into the cast for her “broken foot,” hunting with my hands on the dark floor for the microphone that had fallen through the actress’ costume before anyone stepped on it. I’ve knelt on the edge of the stage waving my arms, trying desperately (yet quietly) to get the detective’s attention because he’s supposed to go on in 10 seconds. I’ve been on my knees hemming up a skirt with safety pins that had come undone or helping the 5th grader crawl under the Beast’s table to pull down the final rose petal without knocking over the glass. A core memory was the time I knelt inside one the castle set pieces, seeking to stabilize the fake wall while Robin Hood and his Merry Men clamored over me in such a way to make it look as if they had just crawled up to a high tower window.

The older I get, the more often I end play rehearsal with a look to Heather, the director, and the same phrase, “I’m going to need a massage after the show wraps.” She usually laughs and asks how the knees are doing. But what a privilege. It's no secret that I love theater, and there’s no place else I’d rather be than on my knees putting down spike tape or reaching for yet another cough drop or looking for a lost prop that’s supposed to go on in 30 seconds. Because I get to be with my kids. And maybe, when I’m down there on the ground with my slowly aging joints, just maybe I’ll remember to pray for them as well.

Lauren putting down spike tape as we prepare for Sherlock Holmes.