“Yeah! Mom! I can take you on a special date!” Isaac said when I suggested it.
I immediately tried to buy tickets—with no luck! The ITT office couldn’t help me. Even the cheapest full-price tickets were nearly $100 each. I had trouble justifying that on top of a babysitter for Eloise for far-away seats in the balcony with a four-year-old. My hopes seemed doomed.
Then we had a pretty rough few weeks. I told my mom and the ladies in my Bible study that I felt very, very discouraged. On top of our home trials and perpetual illness, the crappy orders really got me down. It felt like all the sacrifice and hard work and separation our family has endured the past 18 months was completely pointless. And it’s February, which is always a bummer. So I was discouraged and finding it hard to have a good attitude. This was last week, especially Tuesday through Thursday.
Then Friday night I read a great article about how life doesn’t turn out how you think it will, drawn from the life of Joseph. At no point in being sold into slavery by his own family, or tossed into prison by his employer, was Joseph like, “Heck yeah, my life rocks! Party every day!” But in the end, his life had an astonishing surprise usefulness and purpose.
Ok, that was nice to remember. So I go to the museum Saturday and am chatting with guests at the welcome desk when I notice in the line a guy’s hoodie’s logo: JOSEPH! The 2015-2016 show!
“Are you with…?” I pointed at his hoodie.
“Yeah! I’m in it!” said Tyler Jimenez, or THE BUTLER (and Zebulon, and part of the ensemble).
Here I freaked out a little.
“So you’re a fan? Are you going?” he laughed.
“No,” I said, crestfallen.
“Pharaoh is here too, let me go get him,” he said.
More freaking out.
“Are you going to see it?” asked Pharaoh after our group photo.
“No, I wish I could,” I said.
“Well…you can use my discount if you want,” said the butler.
Megan watched Eloise. The Butler got Isaac and me tickets ahead of time and had them waiting at will call, trusting a complete stranger to pay him back afterwards. Maybe my fan-thusiasm showed my general good taste and trustworthiness. AND our seats were in the 8th row.
It was so fun. Isaac loved it. By the end he stood up and danced in front of his seat. It wasn’t the same old version I’d seen in New Jersey, California and Texas—it was the same music, but updated costumes, dances, additional drum line interludes and (not overdone) special effects. Such a delight. It’s impressive to take an enduring favorite and update it in a way that is fresh and still satisfying. RAVE RAVE RAVE I LOVED IT.
Several kind people sitting around us even complimented Isaac on our way out.
“Did you like it buddy?” I asked driving home.
“Yeah but I was a little sad in the middle, a-cuz those people were be-tending that Joseph was dead. I felt a little bit sad about that,” said my emotionally aware four-year-old date.
Just days before I had prayed for encouragement. If I had tried to imagine the most specific and personal encouragement possible, I could not have come up with anything better. I’d been wanting to go to this exact show for more than six months and hadn’t been able to fit the pieces into place myself, and suddenly everything worked out in just a few hours.
Even leaky gross diapers first thing the next morning couldn’t discourage me after that. Thank you, Lord!
In a final note, in case you weren’t totally sure the Chrysler museum is a magical place, listen to this: sometimes there’s a sign out in the back that says to help yourself to leftover flowers. Working there gets me a complimentary museum membership, which is reciprocated at hundreds of museums all over the country. Working there also has a local reciprocity agreement with nearly every Hampton Roads museum and historical place I want to go to but previously balked at the $35+ it costs just for me and the kids to go for 90 minutes. We’ve been to Nauticus twice since I found out.