New Standard

My knees were knocking and my throat was dry as I walked into the high school auditorium.

I hadn't auditioned for a play in four years.

The beginning was the same: fill out a form with your contact information, contacts, and preferences; read through the character descriptions; twiddle your thumbs and wait for the action to really begin.

When I was first called onstage, I was nervous but not terribly so. I'm mildly talented at acting and read pretty well, plus I've been dyyyyy-ing to get back up there. They had the lights on, there was something of an audience (even if it was only 15 people), and I had a script in front of me.

My first read-through was just okay. By the second or third time I was up there, I was relaxed and relied less on the paper and more on my own facial expressions. I was the only actor the director didn't know, so I got called up quite a bit. It felt so natural to be doing something that I loved.

The script, however, was not something I loved. The play is about vampires. It's a comedy. Mainly, I read for one of three girl vampires locked in a tower desperate for a man to tickle and give hickeys to.

I haven't been onstage since I came to Christ, so I hadn't seen this coming, this torn feeling between desire to perform and to honor God. When they call to tell me that I'm in (which, with five female parts and five women who auditioned, you do the math), I will have to tell them that I simply cannot participate in a play that conflicts with my morals.

I was having trouble figuring out where I would draw the line in the sand: is a play with one innuendo-filled line impossible for a Christian to participate in? What about violence? What about controversial content?

I came up with this standard: if I wouldn't want my pastor sitting in the audience, I can't be a part of it. By extension, that should be, "I can't be part of a play that I would not want Jesus to see," but it was easiest to imagine someone who is physically in my life, though I leaned entirely on the One who is in my heart.

I want to mourn the lost opportunity, but I can't help but feel grateful. My God saved me from embarrassment, shame, the possibility of lusting after a man who I'd be working closely with who isn't Jay--so many traps avoided simply by walking away.

I was completely unprepared for this lesson. Thankfully I've learned it now and not down the road a few hours before curtain call!