Iceberg, right ahead!

It was ten days before the performances.
Ten.
And Bruce Ismay had never been to rehearsal. Lady Astor dropped out without telling anyone.
The proposal had come back lacking the promise of a budget or compensation to cover the costs of the show.
The prop list had three things checked off.
A few people were costumed - some had no costumes at all.
They had just gotten off-book, rehearsing in the historical hotel a few buildings down from the theater.
There was no set.
No one to run lights. No fog machine ready.
The music was picked and far from perfect - missing a piece.
The projector for the backdrops put on hold while Lindsey tried to set up a meeting with Steve to talk about where to get the money to buy the supplies needed to make lifeboats and life vests and buy dry ice. Even with a rare, good night sleep, the production drove her to her knees.
"Help Lord. I want to believe you're coming through for all this - I do - but it's just SOOO hard. I don't know how much I need to do and how much I need to wait for you to do."
Trust wasn't easy. Letting go of what little control she had wasn't easy.
But then the words came, "Lindsey, when have I ever let you down?"
Flashes of hurt - old wounds that she used to wonder why He let happen - flashed through her head in defense. But were they really hurts?
He had freed her from a church where she lived under doubt, confusion and condemnation.
From friends who didn't understand her calling the way she did, and may have kept her from discovering it all in the name of "following God's will."
Old wounds suddenly looked like God stepping in and breaking chains so she was free to follow him away from her own preconceived ideas of what His will for her life was.
"No. You haven't."
It was kind of crazy to wonder where her lack of faith came through.
If God could stop the sun and command the waters and bring down entire nations in one day - he could probably wrangle up an actor or two and a lifeboat and everything the play needed - with the funds to pay for it - in five days.
But it was still so hard to trust and relax and it led her into desperate prayers about sin and faith and trust. Even while the thoughts crept in that she should be working on music and finding an actress and making phone calls about various details. Perhaps putting an add on Creig's List for a boat.
After all, the production couldn't wait while she learned enough faith and to understand which ideas were from God and which were for her own, desperate mind.
But a string of promises followed bringing both comfort and humiliation, "I will never leave you or forsake you. I will supply all your needs according to My riches. I will hold you in my right hand, lest you dash your foot against a stone. I will shelter You in my wings. I will never fail. And I never lie."
So here she was.... sitting an hour later, after counting the days on the calendar and coaching her breathing back to normal. Was this the way she had hoped to see God work through the lives of the actors? To show Himself strong? Dare she explain at rehearsal what was going on - that they had no budget - with one of the people who had promised to "see what they could do" sitting right there?
Did she tell them that God had promised to provide and let them all see what he had in store?
Was that what he was planning through all of this?

Calm Waters

The weekend provided a much-needed mental and spiritual break for Lindsey. Despite prayers being sent up about the lack of actors, she learned to trust God that he wasn't finished casting yet. Saturday, a father and son accepted the roles of Thomas Andrews and Richard Williams. They left two requests out for William Murdoch and Bruce Ismay, both of whom had a first read-through rehearsal on Monday - and both of whom had not responded by Monday morning. But the show would go on whether or not they were at the line rehearsals.

Monday was a challenge.

Despite a good Sunday where she performed at Church (and was asked why she wasn't on Broadway or somewhere) and where God reminded her of a future - and much larger project - Flames. Could it be that "Titanic" and trusting God was preparation for working on the film God had given her to write?

She thought so.

Reassurances came in. The man wasn't a bad actor as he had been accused of - He was dyslexic but a very good memorize. Two of the parts were filled. A thirteen year old boy wrote asking for a part. Word was getting out all over about Titanic.

Saturday night, Lindsey began writing the backdrops for each scene, along with a list of music used, props needed, and other notes that normally were done by a stage manager.

Marie wrote that she was willing to help with Irish Step Dancing - she couldn't dance but she had the knowledge. Rob arranged to meet Lindsey Monday night after rehearsal for the backdrops and music details.

In the meantime, researching for her blog, Lindsey stumbled on a website which she was looking through for ways to help people - and products to buy that could help support former slaves and not encourage slave-trading. She stumbled on a gift of freedom - more expensive than she was planning on spending on one purchase for a long time.

It wasn't a Christian site.

It wasn't a wise idea to dole out that money.

But it was as though God said, "That. Do that. Someone needs you today. Right now."

After a few minutes debate to make sure she'd heard correctly - and convince herself that parting with that money wasn't going to hurt her, Lindsey donated toward freeing an indentured girl. Amazed that with just a bit of money, a few clicks of a mouse, a girl could return to her family and attend school for six months instead of working to pay off her family's debt.

Ten minutes afterwards, her Grandfather walked in and handed her the exact amount of money that she had spent in the gift of freedom.

She'd also been wanting a big book with CD's on accents. It had over 100 and how to learn them. But it was usually between 40 and 60 dollars.

Saturday, she found it for 16.00 and ordered it for rehearsals.

So that left purchasing the music for the show and the memorabilia for the display board.

For all the reading she had done on the Titanic, she found (apparently true) something she had never read before. There was a film screening on the Titanic at the time of the collision. It was about people surviving a sinking ship hit by a rogue wave.

So popular was it, that another showing started after midnight while people should have been loading lifeboats.

Monday, she was woken after a long night of exhausted sleep, by someone scrubbing the outside of her door. It was not terribly pleasant or comfortable to try and dress not knowing which worker was outside or if that door would open at any moment. By the time it did, she was cleaning the room and came face to face with a young, new worker who was apparently told that she had gone on the cruise with her grandparents.

Awkward first meeting over, she came out only to discover her brother was gone and there were three men working in the house. Before she could fully wake up the doors were yet again stuck open and banned from being shut. No bathroom door. No bedroom door.

Not a good way to start an already grumpy morning.

She decided she was glad she lived in a house without servants.

Another day.

Another rehearsal.

Another chance to learn to trust God.

And the show went on.

The Calm after the Storm

She'd talked to Val. She'd taken a shower. She'd calmed down to the lyrics of "Never Once did we Ever Walk Alone." Then "Hope, Now." Then she asked God for a specific song from him.

The one that came up was "By Your Side."

So she lay in bed listening to the words - all of which were true.

Why are you striving these days? Why are you trying to earn grace? Why are you crying? Let me lift up your face. Just don't turn away.

And she was indeed crying. Tired. Feeling abandoned.

Why are you looking for love? Why are you still searching as if I'm not enough? To where will you go child? Tell me where will you run? To where will you run?

She had no where to run. But she had no reason to run either. God knew what she needed. He knew the pressure she felt. He knew how this production would turn out.

And I'll be by your side wherever you fall. In the dead of night, whenever you call. And please don't fight these hands that are holding you.
My hands are holding you.

Laying in the dark, in the early hours of the morning, she did call on Him. Maybe she was fretting too much. He just wasn't finished casting yet.

Cause I, I love you. I want you to know that I love you. I'll never let you go.

And so she fell asleep, and despite stressfull dreams about being demanded to perform on the piano at a church, she woke in better spirits. Reading the first and second chapter of "Abba's Child" she was confronted yet again with her "people pleasing" ways.

She didn't have an unruly, rude group of lousy actors.

She had an excited group of people who were enthusiastic about the production and liked each other. She had people donating time, energy and dwindling gas tanks because they had the same passion that she did. The desire to create a story. To see words on a page come alive, take personalities and touch lives. To have a good time building a theater family.

What she liked about many of these people is their openness with each other. They struggled. They had flaws. But she had seen during former plays how they rallied behind each other. They rooted for each other. Sure. The curtains might fall down. The acting might not be blockbuster quality. The set might look a bit goofy. There were wigs slipping and costume malfunctions - but there was a family feeling. People who didn't have a lot of support in their outside lives came to the theater and got several hugs from people they might have only met a few weeks before. Someone who was craving a cigarette and trying to fight it was congratulated for the fight. People who were nervous about learning all their lines, or dancing on the wrong foot were supported and encouraged to hang in there.

That was what theater was really about. When actors had a good time, the audience had a good time. If she could keep that in mind, and let God take care of the details, this play was going to be "A Night to Remember" and six weeks that she would never forget.

Shipwrecked.

Thirty pages took a long time to print.

Lindsey got to rehearsal at 7:00 instead of 6:30 with a schedule and a wrong date. Pat caught it and the date was fixed. Excited actors milled about. Lindsey got scripts out and had them write their names on the top.

She didn't have a sign-in sheet.

She didn't have a waver for them to sign.

Pat went over the rules of the theater. Then the reading began.

Three men short and one boy short.

A few mispronounced words.

A boy with the fewest lines took the longest to read them.

"My brother died."

Brother: "You wish!"

Everyone laughed. But it went worst from there. Back on track, they got through the script, Lindsey playing several parts.

Afterwards they came with the conflicts they could have told her before had the theater told her which dates she could hold rehearsal. "Do the best you can," was the answer they got.

Then the man with the deep radio voice, gave the script back and said he couldn't do the show.

She couldn't replace them. At this point, she couldn't cut them either.

Pat lowered the lights and people shuffled outside the door, standing in a happy cluster.

"They can't cut up like that."

"They can't read."

"That man can't act and he has a big part!"

"He quit because the kids were acting up."

Those words were mispronounced.

Lindsey assured her that she would be addressing all of these factors at the line rehearsal.

Then had to shoo the actors away so she could leave and go to rehearsal (theater rules that no one was left on the premises.)

Marie, blessed woman, told Lindsey the script was done so well. Which helped her worry that it came across as overly-sappy or overly-factual.

Two hours later, she still felt like throwing up. She still needed men.

She needed her little boy.

And a stage manager.

And if she was honest, she was both worried sick she'd understood wrong, or done something wrong. Where was God? Was he coming through? She was failing at the very first rehearsal.

She shouldn't have added parts. She should have taken them out. But if she didn't add them, then the two culprits would have even larger roles to struggle to read and work their way through.

Well. She would learn. She'd somehow figure out how to come across as confident, kind and maintaining order. This would be easier at the Palace theater - while not nearly as nice, it came with less regulations and worried owners.

God help her.

She felt like everything was already falling apart.

Saving the Scripts

Lindsey crashed at 3:00 AM, waking around 9:30. All she had to do today was write in Joseph Laroache and expand on one of Mary and Daniel Marvin's scene. Then make the rehearsal schedule, continuing her work that she did while sitting at Sarah's house and trying to half-watch Hugo - another story about a man who loved to create stories.

The movie wasn't terribly encouraging, but it was nice to know there were other people in the world who had the passion of creating stories out of an idea and a lot of imagination.

After she finished the schedule, she would take everything down to the UPS store to make the copies for the read-through tonight.

It took another read through the script before she felt it "done enough." There were still stories she'd like to expand. Scenes she'd rewritten that she wasn't sure of. But it was time to move on and she spent the next few hours working out the schedule. Then went to print the master copy of her creation from the computer.

And of course, when computers came in, the troubles did too. The ink was low. The other ink was low. She had a mad dash to wal-mart for ink where she waited in line for a self-checkout. Then back home where she printed the script, checking facebook for messages to see if she had the last few actors in place. Then she had to call Papa John who didn't know he had a part written in and Keith whom she'd pushed to the backburner while waiting to hear which men she had to do what.

The computer began pulling multiple papers. But finally the script lay waiting, the phone calls were made. And she had an hour to get to UPS store and run off thirty copies. Then get to rehearsal and afterward she was traveling with Justin to the church to go over a program there for Sunday morning.

Her first time in front of her new church.

She really should hurry and finish memorizing the poem.

Setting Sail!

A day of names. Waiting to hear from men before she could do the final casting. Then calling, getting either excited actors or answering machines. Two men fell through and created a last-minute shuffle. Then another boy. Lindsey sent out messages and phone calls to three men she'd either never met or barely knew. Some parts needed to be tweaked. Others needed to be added. She ended the night, still lacking a child for Washington's part.

But people began to shuffle into places.

7:00 the next day, she had to have the scripts finished and printed and work out the rehearsal schedule. It was not an easy task and she settled in bed at 10:17 to begin the adding of the parts, the tweaking of lines. Tomorrow (hopefully after a few hours of sleep) she would have the day to confirm the rest of the men in the cast. Then work out the schedule.

Her facebook began to show comments by her cast, telling their part, asking about others. It was fun to see their excitement even as she watched thinking, "I'm doing this. I'M doing this."

All of it.

Being an actress was one thing.

Writing the script, directing, gathering and creating props, over-seeing costumes, blocking the script, finding a crew to run lights, sound. Gathering songs and special effects.

God had promised to provide all her needs and today was the beginning of a long journey of faith, that he would either provide her with what she needed or who she needed to what she needed.

It was shameful to see how she could bubble over about how God answered her prayer and provided so many things one moment - then reminding him that he'd forgotten to send out the kid and she wasn't sure about this casting arrangement and was she really supposed to be playing the French girl that she hadn't expected to play at all?

Shouldn't she just be off the stage as a silent character who could walk around and get her stuff done?

She didn't know. But it was going to be a long night and feeling slightly dizzy, she glanced at the clock.

10:22 PM.

Time to go to work.

All Aboard!

"Some other Hand than mine was on that helm during the night." - Captain Arthur Rostron, reflecting on his safe passage among the icebergs to the lifeboats.

Lindsey loaded the car for the second night of auditions, feeling more excited than nervous, though she'd had trouble concentrating for the entire day. Walking into the theater, found a vastly different scene than the day before. Actors were waiting. A whole group of the Palace Players from Willy Wonka showed up. A few kids from the highschool. A few from middle school.

As auditions got underway Josh carried himself into the theater, and Lindsey went to meet him, excited he'd come. He had been up since 7 AM the morning before and here and even going on 36 hours without sleep, he read well. And first, since he needed to go home.

The group read and visited, read and hung out until the tornado warnings sent everyone home, twenty minutes before auditions officially ended.

Then the arranging began. Bumping names from place to place, fitting people together. Considering how the script could be tweaked.

She had more women than parts - and fell short of two young men. But a phone call offered two names - one of whom she'd been hoping to cast anyway but was afraid of conflicts.

The next morning after laying awake watching lightening in the sky, she smiled. God had brought out people. Enough that she would not be cutting characters - she might be adding them. Two men had yet to get back to tell if they could do the parts. She still lacked a young boy but every time she picked up the phone to make some calls, God said "wait." So she did, but she couldn't help reminding him how easy it would be for him to move Tex's date.

There were problems. Others who wanted to audition but hadn't gotten the call about the updates. Unsure of how to fairly work things out, she considered the options. Should she put them in as extras and background? Write some more small parts?

She wasn't sure.