CPAF/Lake Lodge Girls (Day 24 ~Year 24: 30 to 30)

 "The Lord is good to me, And so I thank the Lord, for giving me the things I need, the sun and the rain and the appleseed, the Lord is good to me."
 While this little song naturally brings to mind the Disney cartoon of Johnny Appleseed from where it originates, it also instantly reminds me of Mary Jeane Kraft & a prayer time at CPAF. Every morning before work we'd pray together as staff and interns and one morning MaryJeane's prayer was this song. I don't remember what we were praying over but I remember this being so apt . It feels apt now too both as I start to write about CPAF and as I wish I had more time to spend on these late posts but that being because of gratefulness for the richness of people and places and times that God has placed in my life.

 At CPAF I was an intern with 3 other girls and we lived in a lake house and worked at the office. For the first half of my time there I missed Jackson a ridiculous lot. I missed theatre. I missed my group of friends and community. I knew that I was where I was supposed to be, the Lord had given me a peace not my own about coming, and while I knew I had much to be grateful about it was all in my head but not in my heart. And then one day that changed. My Belhaven friends had come to visit me on their break which was pretty amazing and I remember Meg basically saying to me that I needed to be grateful for the gorgeousness I was surrounded by, that I didn't have to be stuck in concrete. And I remember having a quiet time with God and basically saying that if my sadness sent me to Him then that was good. And something shifted. All the thankfulness I knew I Should be, got sent to my actual heart and I FELT grateful. It was lovely. And from there, my darling crazy chicken Hungarian sister (don't ask, I don't really have an explanation, it's just what we call each other) and I decided to create a show. We were the only two actresses in the office (Christi was there at first but then she had a wedding in our house and moved away leaving us surrounded by classical musicians. ) and there were precious few theatre opporunities in our immediate Indiana area. So we decided we needed to create one. And we did. We set aside rehearsal time at our house each night and we crafted a show out of what was on our hearts. Which for me was contentment. So Greener Grass was born. And what a blessing to go into a rehearsal space, (sometimes not really wanting to rehearse) in our own house (by the freaking lake may I restate.), pray over the rehearsal and give it to God, and then do the work.

 Beyond this, that year was another excellent time of growing both artistically and spiritually. Living with Annaka, and Krisz and Julie and working with a wonderful staff of artists (and Cyd! Cyd who kept us sane and on track and listened to us cry. She was the office manager and while Krisz and I may have been a minority as actresses among musicians, Cyd was a counselor surrounded in general by performing artists.) truly makes me say~ " The Lord is good to me, and so I thank the Lord...."After Christy and Barry's wedding at the Lake house Christi's brothers mentioned the benefit of sharing meals together (actually they said snarkily when they learned that though we lived together we didn't do this. "Oh well I guess there is no benefit to living in community." heh. It was effective.Also that was a great day. A wedding in our house in the morning and sledding with the guys followed by dinner thanks to Krisz and a random viewing of Back to the Future.) we took to it and traded off making dinner 4 nights a week. This simple shift changed our relationships with each other, which though we were simply 4 roommates helps me see why this would be important in a family setting later.
 And while I say' simply four roommates', it's no shrugging off. Sharing life with these women that year was such a blessing. We read Psalms together in the mornings, prayed together, sometimes fought together, sought resolution together, reminded one another of God's Truth when it was hard to remember ourselves. And we laughed and played too. And kept a boat from crashing into our house. (It happened. http://faithacre.blogspot.com/2008/09/sunday-storms.html
Lol)
And got flooded into our house. :) "...the Lord is good to me."

Belhaven~ (Year and Days 22 & 23: 30 to 30)

Okay~so clearly posts are falling behind again because, well I suppose because present life is happening and I've not taken the time to write about Befores. :) Saturday would have been 21/Shepherdstown but I also touched on that at the sum up end of the last post so we'll leave it there for now. I was near Shepherdstown Saturday though, at home with my fam in the Burrow. Kevin and I left on Friday and got in late for a short weekend Easter visit. It was so nice to be back in the mountains, by the river, and with my fam/crazy brothers & Alexandra. And really nice to have them all meet Kevin and vice versa.
 Sunday~22 blended with Monday 23 for a Belhaven/Kaelen conglomeration. Belhaven is how I met Kaelen who remains one of my best friends to this day. When I applied to Belhaven  I specifically requested a certain dorm (which is not the one generally requested.) and specifically requested to room with a non-theatre major. And I got placed in Not The Requested dorm and with Kaelen, a definite theatre major. But two things told me it was okay. The first was that our room number was to be 413 which is my birthday so that felt like a good sign. The second was that Kaelen responded to my letter (it felt strange to 'get to know' your new roomie with a phone call) with a handwritten letter of her own. One from Masterworks which at that time I knew nothing about and now too has been a big part of my own life. (funny story from my a vault of Kaelen stories~ this same letter lay on my desk at Belhaven covered by a few things a couple of months into our semester. Kaelen saw the curlicues on the edges and started going on about how lovely they were and how very much she liked them and did I do that? and who did that? and they were just so very.....then she saw that she'd done them and stopped. And we had a good laugh over that one.)
 Kaelen and I hit it off so instantly and well that people assumed we were long friends before Belhaven. There are about a billion stories from that time and from our lovely group of friends that I could write. And I could and should write about the Searles and how I met them serendipitously on the plane the first time I visited Belhaven and how kind they've been to me and how I lived in the house they had in Jackson. And I could write about that house, which we deemed "Tiffany's" only because we often had Breakfast At....
I still miss that house when I think of it. A bunch of us would get together there on Sundays and read children's books (yes. that's what we did.) and sing hymns, and laugh or watch movies or what have you. It was such a sweet time. And theatre, oh we did so much theatre. It was so rich to be in an environment of constant creating. And at Belhaven my faith grew as my theology shifted. And with Kaelen and Brandon and Brandon and Scott and Erin and Meg and Aunie and Bonnie and Alex (Bonnie and Alex! Love those two!)  I learned the words to hymns I found I loved. And of all the lovely things and crazy things and funny things my friendship with Kae is filled with, there's something I most learned from her in the very beginning for which I'm very grateful. Kaelen changed my prayer life. At first it made me uncomfortable and maybe I thought she was a little crazy. I mean, I prayed often I thought, but this girl prayed out loud and fervently about just about anything. If I brought something up she'd just pray about it. Like right then and there. And then it felt less crazy and how I prayed shifted too. And I'm still grateful for that.

 So much about being there was sweet and beautiful and showed evidence of God's provision. Even the first time I visited I was amazed by the fact that I didn't want to leave, that I felt somehow at home. At Belhaven both my craft as an actor and my walk as a Christ follower grew and it was a precious time.
 And being at Belhaven led to the next, because Kaelen is how I learned of Masterworks which is where I'd go after my time in Jackson.

Multi Day/Year Catch Up (Days 15, 16, 17, 18, 19 & 20~Years Corresponding:30 to 30)

It's a little too bad this is such a catch all catch up because there were some good day/year connections in here. But for now, before setting out for home for Easter with the boy (yay!) I'd just want to touch on them so as to catch up. And honestly much of the days assignments have turned to blogs instead of 'tasks' if you will. I'd like to have done both but time just gets scrunchy ya know?

 Okay~
 Somehow I'm really the only traveler in my immediate family but I got but by the travel bug very young and wanted to be a flight attendant when I was a little girl. When I was 15 I finally got to really go somewhere and through the support of my church growing up, got to go with the McKenzie family to Israel where they were working with YWAM Jerusalem and living in Bethlehem. There's more to say on this, clearly, but today I'm mostly playing catch up so I won't delve. Sunday I went to Algebra Tea House on my street for an Iraqi kebab wrap and the intent of a glass bottle of coke. In Israel we would go to street stands or bitty cafes for either shawarma or falafel and coca cola in glass bottles. Algebra has both but part of this countdown is bringing past to present so I went with my fav go-to wrap instead. Also Cassie came with me so we could catch up after her house sitting for a week. Sadly they were out of coke so we had root beer instead.

 At 16 I worked a summer as a white water rafting guide on the Shenandoah (and a tad of the Potomac) river in Harpers Ferry. I was not particularly good at it but it was an enjoyable experience and I loved being outside and on the water and in the sun. You'd get the weirdest tans because you're sitting all day with your thighs sunward, your calves hidden, your face & arms exposed and the rest of your torso completely covered in a life vest. And this was the year that I discovered the beauty of naps. This is a job that totally wears you out and you'd just come home, eat and sleep. On this trip home this weekend I will most definitely be walking to the river on Saturday morning to give it a good hello.

 Then of course was 17 which though the season of such spanned longer then, I decided for this project's purposes to tie to the Gypsy reign. :) Barefooting, pasta making, contra dancing, Shakespeare loving, bunch of crazy wonderful friends. I loved that time and those people.

 18 was The Crucible- like literally, the show, not a metaphorical going through~ which I connect with really getting to know my dear friend Bergen more and also with realizing how much actually I really loved and wanted to do theatre.

 19 was Americorps which I've written about before and will again.
And 20 was YWAM and these three years, 18, 19 & 20 connect a lot in my journey of pursuing the arts as a Christian. And I'll try and come back to flesh these out better. For now suffice it to say at 18 in The Crucible I recognized how very much I actually did love acting and theatre and how as I was about to go away and do other things I loved for 11 months I didn't know what I would do without it. 2 days after having this thought directly is when I got a letter from A*Corps explaining three specialized teams specific to my assigned Denver base. Teaching/tutoring. Firefighting. And a brand spanking new theatre team. Which I auditioned for upon arriving, got in and became part of a team that a decade later is still part of my life and who I love dearly. During my AmeriCorps year I read Addicted to Mediocrity because more and more I was realizing I loved acting. Through this book I felt like God spoke to my heart and broke through a lot of the very practical and utilitarian way I'd been viewing the arts. Through this book I felt I was seeing that not only was it 'okay' that I love and do this, but that I'd been designed for it. So I looked up a performing arts DTS (discipleship training school~something else I'd wanted to do and was introduced to through YWAM in Israel) through YWAM, applied, and that was my post A*Corps step. And there new knowledge in what it means to be a Christian in the arts, in God's own artistry and beauty, developed and furthered.

 And post A*Corps was my first apartment with Bergen then Butera now Howlett. And that, that too was a golden time. Card nights, curry chicken salad, the beginning of Boxing Day breakfasts, Unbirthday Parties( that were possibly a terrible idea. I swore off planning surprise parties after this Bergen. You should always check to see if your roommate has homework first. Also it was completely not her birthday although that was sort of the point.)  and filled with bright pink cake, the fun of being a townie in Shepherdstown. Good times Bergen, good times. :)

Grandma (Day 14~Year 14: 30 to 30)

 The reactions I sometimes get to going by my middle name are surprising. Some people seem truly offended, it's weird, that they've known me as 'Faith' and my first name is in fact 'Rachel'. Didn't pick the going by my middle name bit folks, just how it goes. Believe me, I've gotten confused myself when as a kid at the Dr's or something, they'd call my name several times before I realized who they meant. My favorite (but not) is when people discover this and refer to Rachel as my 'real name' as if Faith, which I've gone by since I was born, was not my 'real name'. Regardless, I'm grateful to carry my first name, as real as my middle one, because I was named after my Grandma.
 She gets this day, this year because it's when we lost her.Even now, writing so makes me tear up. At the time, for some reason, I thought 'normal' was hiding away the sad part, going and crying by yourself, and then being happy around people. I don't know where I got this except that I like being in control, and crying is not that. It wasn't until a few years after my Grandma died that my Mom and I learned we'd each been crying when we went to sleep for weeks, not knowing the other was mourning too. "Well I wish I'd known that!" said my Mom when somehow, talking late one night with Alexandra at the Burrow, it just came up. We could have cried together, which honestly probably would eventually have meant laughing together too, because of remembering together. And if not, we could at least have comforted each other. Cry together people. And remind me to as well.
Onward~

 

 My grandma gave us kitchen sink baths when we were babies, and somehow, somehow I remember this. I remember orange measuring cups and using them as bath toys and pouring the water in and out of them. As an adult I've heard Mom say "She'd clean a big old chicken up for dinner and then fill the sink with water and plop one of you in it." Well. We none of us died from salmonella so....
 Baths were always a thing at Grandma's, even past sink bath stage. When Lukas was a toddler he had this habit of submerging face first in the water and just floating there, I don't know why, it was fun for him. So one night Grandma's giving him a bath and he's playing around and he does the dead man's float thing and Grandma waits patiently...until she didn't. She grabbed him by the white blonde hair and said "That's enough!!!" and pulled him out of the water to make sure he was still actually there. She was rather a patient woman so it was pretty hilarious.

 Grandma was also an incredible cook and no one makes mashed potatoes like she did. And chicken soup, and lemon chicken, and heaven knows, lots of things.But I really remember those mashed potatoes. I bet my Dad got his stellar cooking skills from my Grandma.

 She had seven kids including twins and as my Uncle Danny said at her funeral, when my Grandfather died (my Dad, the third, was 11 I think) she picked herself up by the bootstraps and raised those seven kids by herself. 

 My Grandma taught me to sew (not that I remember, but we made several dresses with Alexandra which was fun.) and she sewed me lots of dresses and things when I was a growing up. She also used to rock me sleep when I was a toddler which actually meant she would fall asleep and I would wriggle out and run around again. That rocking chair is now at The Burrow (aka, my families house) and has rocked so many babies. My Dad probably got his cooking AND fall asleep wherever skills from his Mom. :)
 It seems funny to write about her and to know she was wonderful to me but to not know how to say so. She was a big part of my world and I loved her dearly and I'm glad to have her name. I love you Grandma.

  

 

  

That Sam I Am (Day 13~Year 13: 30 to 30)

'Mom and Dad decided for Baby number four not to find out what they were having so Devan and I had a 9 month bet going on it. I was convinced that this time I'd get a sister. So on December 20th when I woke up at Alexandra's house to hear Devan on the phone with Dad and learn we had brother number 3 I was.....ummmm....well I went in the bathroom and cried. Three of them? For serious? This ratio seemed WAY skewed.
But that was before I actually met Samuel. And when I did all of that nonsense melted away.
Sam was a lovey little guy from the start and his first word, very early I'll have you know, was "Honey" as he reached for Mom. He was also a quirky little guy from the start and he has a great many fantastic tales in our families story bank. Most I'll leave there for now Sam, don't worry.
He was a story teller too and Sam talked in a slow, deep, monotone and if ever he got somehow offtrack....he'd start over from the very beginning. And these were loooooong tales too. So you'd hold your breath hoping no one moved, though sometimes he'd get off track for no particular reason you could have foreseen and it was back to the beginning. And the thing was, it didn't matter how close to the end you were. And it didn't matter if he'd already started over 3 times. It was back to the beginning and all the way through. Devan, being Devan, learned to use this to his button-pushing, self-entertaining advantage by strategically placing one of his friends on the couch with Sam, "pushing the play button" by instigating a story topic, and then leave the room after distracting Sam near the end of some story session, thus trapping the friend (did they still call him that?) in a loop of story.
This is also the brother who said to Devan one day "Am I a fweaky widdle man?" and, I believe while sitting on the porch 'smoking' a bubble pipe with his cute little toddler Hobbit like curls, greeted him cheerfully "Devan, was your day lucky?"
What a kid! And what a sweetheart.
Sam has had a Dad's heart since he was a wee little thing. I remember a conversation with him when he was just a kid and him telling me how he was going to get married and have a family and how maybe learning to ‘plumb’ as a plumber would be a good career choice. He once drew me a picture of what he thought would be me at my wedding and it sits framed on my desk which is saying something because I don't frame much of anything.
Once when he was nine I remember talking to him on the phone and towards the end of the conversation I said "Well baby cakes, I've gotta go." and then I stopped because I had a realization I'd once had with Lukas, one where my hoped for cool sister status had perhaps been demolished because I'd forgotten how old a brother really had gotten and was treating them younger. With Lukas this was so. So with Sam I stopped and said "Sam, I'm sorry, does it bother you when I say that?" "A little." "I'm sorry Sam. I'll start over, Sam, I've gotta be getting off of here..." "Oh no, no, I don't like it when you have to go. I like it when you call me babycakes." I stayed on the phone for twenty more minutes. ~
I'm going to have to check with him before I post this because we're always telling stories on him and he doesn't always like it. But he's such a neat little guy, and not little anymore by any means, he's outgrown us all. I think I might be the craziest version of myself around him which is kind of hilarious and which he isn't quite sure what to do with. He calls me a fierce koala. And given that I smash chocolate Easter bunnies in his room at complete random I think it's probably a deserved title. Although I also freak him out by making monkey sounds and koala's are pretty quiet sooooo....
Today, I'm going to finally start reading what he sent me of a story he started. And if I get distracted, I can start myself back at the beginning. '

Journals (Day 12~Year 12: 30 to 30)

On my twelfth birthday my Uncle Danny gave me my first real journal. He and my aunt Jen have always given awesome gifts and this is well marked in my memory. It was a leather bound cover, light brown, with a floral garland imprint surrounding the word 'Journal'. The book inside was removable from the cover so that you can get new blank books and continue to use the leather jacket as a journal cover. Quite clever and lovely and practical and meaningful all in one. Which I love.
  I'd had a Lisa Frank diary previous to this occasion, but this rightfully graduated the term 'diary' to 'journal'. I already associated Danny with journaling because when I was a little kid my Mom told me that he'd journaled about his band-following travels. This may have been my first introduction to the concept & I thought that was pretty neat. So much so that not understanding the rather personal nature of such I asked him once if I could read them. In response he gave a Danny particular chortle and said "When I'm dead!" followed by a Danny particular laugh.
 And this book, that year, was the start of a so far lifelong practice that has filled a small carry~on suitcase with filled up journals. It's something that's helped me keep records of stories, of prayers, of journeys and dreams. Even of recipes sometimes, and quotes, or passages from books and plays and movies and scripture. And it's helped me, Miss Outward Processor, dump my whirling thoughts on a page and sometimes see they're maybe not as bad as I thought, or at least maybe help me to sort them and know better how to think & talk through them.
 There was a time when I thought of separating the different things I use journaling for into different books. One for prayer, one for actual record keeping journaling, one for emotional workings out, etc. But my life is my life and I decided that my thankfulness's and joys ought be beside my frustrations and 'dammit's'. So all in one.
 As a record keeping process, I used to be much more diligent, but not as much now. I still record things that feel special, or noteworthy, or important, or simply because I haven't in a time~ but this I don't do daily. But the other bits and pieces still make their way to page, not daily as before, but frequently. It's a practice that has often served me well and one for which I'm glad.
 Often it feels, honestly like blogging here and even like this project, that perhaps journaling is something too self focused. It seems strange and maybe even narcissistic to want to put down your own personal history. There is of course more to it but the nagging doubt is there.  Yesterday I shared this concern with Devan regarding this project. And this is what he wrote back. "Don't stop in the middle...if you're concerned about it being self focused then change the perspective...Your life isn't just about you, it's about you, and the people around you and the people you affect and who affect you...It's about things you were a part of and things you missed. Just because you lived a year doesn't make it your year. You're the person who's perspective we are gaining on the last thirty years. You're a vessel for things God has done in the past thirty years. So get over it and finish your project. :)" Yeah, see, my brother is pretty cool.
 Today~ I'll purchase a new journal, as the one I'm currently in has been filled once and I'm now working in upside down/backwards on the backs of pages. So, yeah, it's probably about time.

Sunshine Man (Day 10 ~ Year 10: 30 to 30)

 Any form of normal didn't really come to the Whitacre house until Lukas Whitacre. Lukas was born when I was 10 and I was sooooo excited to be a big sister again and have a baby around. And this baby was suuuuper cute. He had white blonde hair, thick eyelashes, and blue blue eyes. When I was a baby my Mom had to keep a bonnet on me until I was 2 so people would know I was a girl because until then I was essentially bald. With Lukas she had to put on overtly "Boy" shirts and with his curly, golden locks people still commented on her 'girl'. It was these golden locks that caused my Mom to deem him the sunshine man and every morning we sang to Lukas,
 "Good morning merry sunshine,

   Why did you wake so soon?

   You scared the little birds away.

  And shined

                    away

                              the moon."
 Which is, yes, an actual song. 

 Along with being adorable, Lukas was, from day one, extraordinarily headstrong. I got into a fight with him when he was 18 months old. Like a battle of the wills fight. I don't remember what it was about. I do remember thinking "this is ridiculous. I'm fighting with the baby." And I do believe he won. Which is unsuprising.

 And, yeah, he was so normal. And the poor baby felt it in a sea of weirdos but perspective is a funny thing and so being the odd (normal) man out, he felt like the odd one, and with some kind of incredible intuition as a toddler. He used to cry that he "didn't fit" and he wanted brown hair. Poor kid. He got over it later. ;)

 He also used to say, with great confidence, when asked how old he was at 3 ,"46." He'd come up with a new big number each time but say it with no lag, like he actually believed it. 

 And one day, I came home from some stint away, and suddenly this golden haired child was taller than me. And that was a very strange thing. And now he knows music, and taught himself guitar and brings sunshine that way. So I wrote him on his countdown day, to say I loved him and I'm glad he's my brother. And that his defense of the pronunciation of "armadillo" would always stick in my mind (It's a cruel irony to not be able to pronounce the first letter of your own name as a toddler and Luke's 'l's' were ever 'w's' at that age. In one memorable conversation he was talking in the car about 'armadiwows'  and oh so kind and helpful older brother Devan said "Don't you mean armadiLLo's?" to which Lukas said emphatically "That's what I said. 'armadiiiiiiiiiiiiwows.'"