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.