The Joseph play came to life last week at Countryside Christian School. It really did. And now, the performances are over, the stage has been taken down, the beards have been smeared away for the last time, the floor has been mopped, and the discussions have died down… but I’m still thinking about it and feeling like tears are going to come sometime because of how beautiful this experience was.
I loved seeing students shine in different ways than they normally do.
Some of them shone alone in the spotlight, with vulnerability and fierceness that sent chills upon chills all over me. Sharing pieces of their character, and pieces of themselves. Beautiful. Thank you.
Some of them shone on the stage with their smiles and nudges and gestures and nods and constant engagement- all small things that together, created a powerful effect. Beautiful. (And so delightful!) Thank you.
Some of them shone in the shadows, wearing black and no shoes- trying to be as invisible as possible, more and more invisible each performance. Beautiful. Thank you.
Some students had their fingerprints all over the play- the backdrops, the stage, the props, the costumes, Joseph’s dreams, the mics, the bulletin, the lights, managing the tickets. Oh my, folks. It could not have been done any better. You aced it. Beautiful. Thank you.
The students weren’t the only ones who shone. Let’s just say that I work with some amazing teachers who never showed up on stage. These teachers were patient, creative, hard-working, and brave leaders. Perhaps one of the most powerful things about these teachers is that they set an example of being willing to work hard, to try new things, and to learn. Beautiful.
I loved working with Meghan on this project for a second time. I loved the discussions and planning and imagining and growing and the sitting and typing and typing.
I loved seeing Ricky visualize the story, thoughtfully plan how it would all play out on the stage, and add details that brought it to life. I loved seeing him interact with the students.
Last summer I wrote a post about what it is like to write a play. (You should probably read it in order for the following snippet from it to make sense: An Enlightening Exploration of Play-Writing) I ended it with these words:
“Someone walks past and stops to look at your ball of snow.
They reach out and touch it.
They start to roll their own ball of snow.
This is why I did it.”
I pray that this whole play experience set something in motion for each person involved. I pray that we all would remember the things that we learned, and that what we learned is a strong foundation for more learning and serving and reaching out. I pray that we would pay attention to the aspects of this that made our souls feel alive.
I pray that we would remember that a big thing is made of a thousand small things.
And most of all, I pray that we would remember that each of us can be a living story of redemption.