Week One!

     Hi friends!

     Wow, what a week! I feel like too much has happened for me to write about in one post! Let me start out by saying that I am well and happy. My team is incredible, and they truly are my family. We started working on our show in earnest today and it's going well, if a bit piecemeal at the moment. It's going to be amazing! More on that in another post. ;) 

     Our house is FANTASTIC. It's like a living work of art. Our director, Christian, is a visual artist, so his work is everywhere, making the house look like an art gallery. I thought it might be cramped, living in an English townhouse with 15 people, but it's not bad! We've arranged our bathroom schedules, we keep this place absolutely spotless, we have a cooking rotation, and we get along really well. It's a very relaxed atmosphere, and everyone is extremely kind and attentive. They put a lot of emphasis on the fact that we're a family now, and I'd have to say that's true. They have been there for me in incredible ways already. In my greatest need, they've been there to pray for me, encourage me, to stop what we're doing and once again lay something before the Lord, to cancel plans and take me out to talk about what's bothering me, and to question me when they feel that I'm really struggling with something. It makes sense, when we're all the family we have in this part of the world and when we live and work together every day, but also (perhaps especially) because we're under attack so often. In very real ways, it's like being in a war zone. 

     Many of you have asked how you can pray. Please pray against warfare. It's attacked my emotions mostly, but it's also attacked my teammates in the form of nightmares and illness. You can tell the internship has started, because our house is heavy. So many complications have arisen all at once. My concept of how dark it is here was so dim compared to the reality that hit me full-force the day I arrived. This is not the London I visited (because now I'm here on God's mission and, obviously, the Enemy hates that), but I still love it here enough to fight for it. I'm grateful that the Lord has placed me here, and I'm so humbled and honored to be His hands and feet in this area. In the 1970's, when YWAM started, about 60 YWAM-ers came to London. 4 years later, all but 10 had left. They said, "never again." London was so, so dark (and still is). So when my team came out here, no one thought they would last. Well, we're 4 years into it and growing, praise God! I heard that many London YWAM-ers wish they'd been sent to the East...it would be easier there. The people in the East are much more open. Their churches grow. Here, we can barely bring up Jesus, or church. People are very closed. The churches shrink. Our church, for example, had about 200 people 10-15 years ago. This past Sunday we had about 20 people, plus our team. I hope to see that number grow, but we'll see. Fortunately (amazingly), God's been calling people here (and to other parts of Western Europe) to specifically use the arts as a means of reaching the populace. How AWESOME is it that our God loves the arts and chooses to use them to save His people? Amazing. It takes my breath away.

     On Saturday, Christian gave us a bit of a tour through the areas we'll mainly be ministering to. Brace yourself, friends.

     Camden Town

     Chris led us to the Camden Lock, then briefed us on what we were about to see. Years ago, before there were trains, horses used to drag boats up and down the canal as a means of quick transportation. They were kept in enormous brown brick stables that became cheap housing and a marketplace after the horses were destroyed (when the trains were invented, they DROWNED all of the horses in the canal). All the famous musicians from Pink Floyd to Nirvana have taken up residence there over the years because of the cheap housing the stables became. There's also a venue there now for artists to present their work, a bar, a strip club, etc. Every nationality and religion is represented, as well as every kind of low life crime you can imagine. This place is actually very trendy, and it was easy to see why. Christian said that they (he and his wife) feel that God has a real heart for this community because it is so depraved, and yet so creative. Right now, Satan has an incredible grip on it. Chris said that it wasn't a place for us to meander through and admire, we had to go in ready to fight (spiritually). Then he led us across the street to the old brown brick stables.

     Crossing the threshold was like entering an alternate universe. I felt like I'd seen versions of it in movies and they were always the parts I didn't like. Like the time the kids in Mary Poppins were grabbed in the alley, pretty much any alleyway scene in Oliver, and loud clubs with futuristic themes. All of that, plus many, many nations, music, and food all rolled into one. It's exciting, if you're not a Christian. It's vibrant and exotic, and the atmosphere is really cool. It looks awesome, except for the fact that we knew what was really going on. I could barely keep it together. Chris led us all through it, down underground to a club-like shop filled with neon and loud music and lights and everything. The people that worked there looked out of this world (literally, they looked very futuristic), but you could tell there was something wrong with them. They had an incredibly dark presence, and their eyes looked, for lack of better words, haunted and pained. Trapped. There was a sex shop down there too, but he didn't lead us down there, lol. He led us up and out again and then through the stalls that sold absolutely every kind of exotic, strange, steampunk, religious (except Christian), funky stuff you can imagine. Some stuff I even liked, but I'm not sure if I'd trust anything from there. Then he stopped us in front of a hair shop.


     Basically, that hair shop is the stronghold. It's Satanic. You can only go in there with an appointment, and they perform witchcraft. They do voodoo, and weave the hair of the dead that their customers' bring into their customers' hair. I recognized samples of their work down in that club-looking shop underground. So…it's a really bad place. And he also pointed out the statues. There are statues everywhere of the horses that used to be stabled there, but they're not of the horses in their prime, it's in their DEATH. London has tons of art of horses, but they're always noble and proud. The horses in Camden were drowning and terrified in their statues. I'm guessing they wanted to give them some sort of memorial, but that's quite a morbid, dark way to do it. There are also statues of the prostitutes that used to work there (and still do) holding up the iron gazebos. And there's a statue of a woman covered in snakes (not like Medusa, a modern statue of a woman wrapped in snakes). Another teammate leaned over and joked, "are you excited now?" He laughed, but I know what he meant. It's exciting, the work we're doing, but it's overwhelming and so, so hard. We're up against forces that I've never encountered before in this way and in this force. This teammate and I even felt a bit sick, which happens a lot to this team when they go into really dark places like that. They've passed out, been overwhelmed by migraines...scary stuff. I feel like I'm stumbling over my words trying to describe this place, because there're just no words to convey how defeated and empty I felt. It's a very emotional place for me. It's an almost tangibly dark place. I'm excited to be a part of stopping that, but at the moment I'm having a hard time imagining going back there so often and fighting so hard for a place that is so, SO lost. Two other teammates were at home resting in preparation for working with the harnesses that night for their aerial dance work, and when we got home one of them told us that when we were in Camden they felt really heavy and dark; they were affected just by us being there. We go there every Friday at 11:00 AM. Please pray for us, and for those we're ministering to. It's a long process that doesn't often show results. We're basically just praying over it and sowing seeds, trusting that God will redeem it one day.

     The Masons

     I know, this sounds crazy, right? If you were here, you'd understand. Their symbols are absolutely everywhere. We're not just up against witchcraft (though that's a HUGE, HUGE issue here. You know the London Eye? It gets rented out for Satanic rituals. Whee-ha), we're up against the Masons too. I almost laughed when Chris told me, but he was really serious. I explained (and my fellow American backed me up, but she's been here longer so this was all old news to her) that back home the Masons were a club that old men were a part of (we know it's BAD, but a major Satanic force in London?). In America, it's considered an honorable, elite club that people take pride in. I even told him about my old government teacher in high school, and how proud he was of his membership. Chris agreed that that's how they're often seen, but that's what they want you to think. I joked about it being like the first Sherlock Holmes movie and the witchcraft there in London, but he said that was real. From the layout of the city, to its strategic areas, to Masons being involved in Parliament, to the Satanic rituals, everything. I did a bunch of research when I got home and was able to verify a lot of this. He said that they backed the movie because they wanted everyone to discredit them. Creepy... Apparently they've been getting a lot of heat lately from their secretive ways, especially in London. And of course, in National Treasure they're portrayed as heroes. My American friend pointed out too that all of our presidents have been Masons…except for Lincoln and Kennedy. President Obama's not either, but she didn't think they'd allow him because his father's Kenyan. George Washington was a higher-echelon Mason (I saw a portrait of him in his Masonic robes), and apparently it was his idea to have the Masonic symbol on our $1 bills. Even our Constitution has Masonic stuff, apparently. Chris didn't think I should be surprised because Washington did a lot of really bad things, and being a Mason fits. They want to have global influence, and they've done a frighteningly good job of it. Camden, for instance, was the place where they took England's stolen treasure. You know, from all the nations they conquered as an Imperial country. They kept all the riches there, in Camden. Then, Camden had the first train, the first bus, etc. They led the way into the future. Now, on the train line, there's an HSBC bank (which has Masonic symbols). There's a pub across the street there too that's Masonic, but I don't remember the name. The grid of the city leads to major Masonic sites. I mentioned that London was founded by Romans and the roads were based on their grid, and Chris reminded me that London burned. After the Great Fire, the Masons (with their tremendous wealth and influence) were able to reconstruct the roads and the monuments to create landmarks. He later took us to see the greatest Freemason site in London (perhaps the world. The UK is apparently a HUGE Mason place. I thought it was just America, but America has only a fraction. The Masons were such a concern here that the government tried to have all of the ones in Parliament and the Police identified, but they stopped their investigation). I found out through my online research that that building has the famous "Black Room," "Red Room," and "Room of Death." It towers over the surrounding buildings so that they can see everything (another use for the London Eye).  So…quite a shock. I hadn't expected to be up against that particular group, but their signs are everywhere. Chris was going to show us the ones at Parliament, but it started to rain by the end of our trip. I know how "conspiracy theory" all of that sounds, but if you could see it all you might change your mind. In any case, it's something else for us to fight. 

     Soho

     This is the red light district. My American friend took me through it around 6:00 PM on Monday just so I could get a more gentle introduction to the area before we begin our 10:00 PM ministry there on Fridays. The first thing I saw was a giant neon sign for table dancing, followed by cat calls at us as we walked past two guys on the sidewalk. We couldn't help but laugh, because it was such a "welcome to Soho" moment, but honestly, it's a heartbreaking area. It's smack dab in the middle of Leicester Square, near the Queen's theatre where I saw "Les Miserables" with some friends in May, so I knew exactly where we were, I just hadn't been to Soho. I saw all kinds of advertisements for prostitution; pretty much every doorway was an entrance to a brothel. As you can imagine, human trafficking is rampant there. My friend is a brilliant photographer and plans to do a series of photographs focusing on the women trapped in this way of life and posting them all over Notting Hill to draw attention to it (most people like to pretend it doesn't exist). We entertain at a Soho coffeehouse one Saturday a month, when they have an open mic night.

     We also walked through Seven Dials, which used to be quite a dodgy area as well. Now it's more trendy and part of the theatre district, but it was still difficult to walk through. There are lots of people in need there. 

     As you can see, there's quite a lot going on here. It's incredibly painful, and a teammate was faithful to remind me that I probably won't see results. We sow seeds...rarely do we see the harvest. Now I really know what it means to put my hand to the plough. I'm praying for the Lord's compassion, His words, His understanding and wisdom, and to see the beauty in the broken. You know what encourages me the most? 

     God hasn't given up on London.

     God is intent on saving it, and that gives me great reason for hope! Yes, it will be difficult and painful, but God is working. He's bringing people here with the express purpose of working to save this city, and we all know that what He sets out to do He accomplishes. Our team has already had incredible doors opened to us here (more on that in another post), doors that could not have been opened without His command. 

     As I walked through Camden that night, fighting back tears, I told God, "you had better let me see results. I don't want to go through all of this pain for nothing." I know, cheeky right? How audacious of me. *shakes head*
     I'm so grateful to have an understanding Father who replied, "It doesn't matter if you see results or not. What matters is that you live your life serving me. That is enough." 

And He was right. 

My Story

     I’ve put off writing this entry for a long time, just because I didn’t know what to say. Some wise friends of mine have been encouraging me to tell my story, the story that led me to London. I just never knew where to start. I see now that God has been leading me there all my life, but the pieces never came together until now. 

     I’ve loved England since I was very little. Back then it was the place where stories came from. It was the place where people spoke with a lovely accent and where kings, queens, and castles still existed. It still is. 

     As I got older I began to study English history and read English literature with more purpose as the pieces of one story became intertwined with another. I began to memorize the royal lines and the stories of the hardy men and women who tried to make England a memorable and influential isle that belied its size. I read English novelists, poets, and playwrights that gave voices to those whose voices weren’t being heard, or who simply wove an interesting story for the sake of art and entertainment. Most of my favorite actors are English, so that led me to study their theatre history in a more engaged manner; as an actress, it’s important to study the greats, and most of them come from England (our own theatre history doesn’t go back that far). 

     I remember thinking when I was younger, “could I ever move to England?...NOOOO, I would NEVER be brave enough for that!” Ha. I don’t feel like bravery has much to do with it. Not from myself, anyway. I feel called there, and when God calls you everything else comes into place. 

     In January of 2011 I began my Masters in Theatre at Regent University. I realized that this was the last leg of my education, and I needed to decide where I was going to go once I graduated. I had to use my degree, and Virginia Beach, VA would be very difficult place to make a living as an actress. So I turned over the usual possibilities in my mind: Chicago...no. New York...no. Los Angeles...no. Then I felt that still, small voice whisper an option I hadn’t really considered:

     London. 

     That was the only city I felt a peace about going to, and I wondered why I’d never considered that before. It’s in ENGLAND, after all! And what better place to pursue theatre than the West End? One can reach several auditions in a day thanks to their handy-dandy tube system, and there’s plenty of work because the theatre, television, and film industries are all thriving in and around the city itself. So, that’s when I started looking into moving to London.

     I was given the opportunity a few weeks later to actually visit London myself with my British family (dear friends of mine from church) who were going back to England that summer to visit their family. We’d always talked about my joining them to visit England, and the time had finally come! Visiting England that summer only confirmed my growing desire to move there. It was everything I thought it would be and more. It was home. 

     So I began to pursue applications for London drama schools. To me, that seemed the natural option after getting American training. I passed the preliminaries for each one, and was even asked to fly to London for an audition at RADA, which I did. However, I did not get accepted to any of the schools, so I took that as a sign that God wanted to move me on in life...I’d been in school long enough. 

     After that I didn’t know what to do, I just knew that I had to get to London somehow. I knew I was being called there, but to what? Work visas had become even more difficult to come by in 2012, so that was a problem. Then, I had a conversation about all of this with the wife of one of my old pastors and she mentioned that YWAM had a performing arts team in London. I had considered YWAM before, but I had no idea they had a performing arts team! So I looked into them right away, and immediately had to blink back the tears that sprang into my eyes because of how perfectly their vision matched my own. 

     TABOO Arts (so named because of how Christ has become taboo in today’s culture) is situated in Notting Hill, London -- a place that holds more artists per square mile than all of Western Europe put together. They understand that London is the key to Western Europe, and it (along with the rest of Europe) has been largely ignored by many Christians because they assume that they are already Christian nations, or at least have access to good churches. 

     Wrong.

     After the Age of Enlightenment, many frustrated missionaries abandoned Western Europe in favor of bringing the Gospel to the East, and to unreached locales. Of course that’s important, and VERY necessary, but the assumption that Europe has no need of missionaries has led to a desperate need in that part of the world. There are hard hearts there, but also cries for help. One of most effective ways to reach such a society is through something they’ll recognize and accept: the arts. Enter the TABOO Arts team, and several others like them sprinkled across Western Europe. 

     As I studied more about their team I was struck by how relevant they are! My teammates participate in everything from art galleries, to music cafes, to the Notting Hill Carnival and the Opening Ceremonies of the London Olympics! These are like-minded Christians that know how powerful the arts are as tools to share the Gospel. This team is making an impact in their community, shining as a light in the darkness, and using the arts to do so! Needless to say, I’m excited to join them. My teammates are incredibly kind and have made every effort to make sure that I have everything I need to join them. Even early on in the application process they were constantly looking for ways to come alongside me in prayer. I couldn’t feel more blessed! 

     I’m only a day away from the move, and I still can’t believe it. The doors flew open for this job, and it’s doing what I love in my favorite city in the world. I’m going to act. In London. And tour Europe with our performances. And make a real, effective effort to reach the lost in one of the darkest parts of the world. *pinches self* Again, I couldn’t feel more blessed. This post is too long already without me sharing every single step that’s led me to London, but that’s a summary of it. I hope it’s been encouraging! God provides everything we need. He prepares us completely, right down to the last detail, which for me included getting the first clean bill of health that I can remember and heading overseas with British Pounds in my pocket from some generous friends. He cares about the details, friends. Not only does He care about them, He plans them. What an awesome God we serve, and I can’t wait to share about all that He does in London!

Until next time, 

Cheers!

    

     

     

Changes

God is so amazing.

I know that's an understatement, and incredibly obvious, but it always bears repeating. Thank you all for your encouragement and prayers, especially those regarding my last post. They've really helped! I know the fears that I expressed were nothing uncommon for someone who's facing a new chapter in their life, but the intensity of them was so acute that I really feel it was an attack by the Enemy. Fortunately, we have a God who knows, hears, and listens. He is our ever present help in time of trouble. Hallelujah!

While I still struggle with having to leave everyone, I am filled with hope and excitement. It's two months to the day to when I'll leave for London, and I can't wait! God (knowing my weaknesses) has shown me His faithfulness in the little things and the big things to such a great extent over the last couple of weeks that it has left me overwhelmed and thrilled at the thought of what's to come. Every time I'm tempted to worry, I'm reminded of His purpose and faithfulness. I can't doubt (at least, not with any sense)!

My team is faithfully praying for me as everything here comes together. Even though I have my certificate of sponsorship, I can't get it (or my visa application) through to the UK Border Agency due to a website glitch. This has gone on for days, and I've sent them several notifications, so we'll see what happens. I'm in faith that it will be resolved in time. In the meantime, I have lots of money left to raise! I'm working a temporary job to help out with this, and holding fundraisers whenever possible.

Trust is a difficult thing for me. But in this wonderful season, God is gently forcing me to wait, pray, and watch for His intervention. The visa will come through. The money will come through. And I am about to embark on a journey that will change me more than I can even imagine. I can't wait. London is truly calling, to the point where I'm antsy with excitement. My heart is there. My future is there. It feels more like home now than Virginia does! I'm so grateful to be called to a place that I love, and to the Arts. I've always wanted to pursue my dreams and passions, but I never thought I'd be able to. Because of this, my future now seems shocking, and I keep waiting for something to go wrong and for me to be disappointed. But that's my typical short-sightedness talking. ;-) I wonder how I'd feel if I'd trusted God with my future earlier, instead of planning on probability? I'm sure there will be many surprises ahead, but God is good always, no matter what happens.

"I love the Lord because He hears my voice and my prayer for mercy. Because he bends down to listen, I will pray as long as I have breath!" ~Psalm 116:1-2

Prayer Request

Okay friends, I need prayer.

As some of you may know, I'm a very emotional person. ;-) This isn't always a bad thing, I actually consider it a good trait. But all too often it overwhelms me and I end up hurting those closest to me and myself. I don't know how to stop. I've prayed over it for a long time, and I think it's just one of those things I'll have to struggle with, but I know it's going to intensify over the next few months.

I've been blessed with amazing friends and family whom I hold very, very dear to my heart. I'm having a difficult time coming to terms with leaving them. Yes, I'll have things like Skype, e-mail, the occasional phone call if there's a landline I can use, Facebook, Twitter, Instagram...but it's not the same. I feel like most people, even my closest friends and family, won't have time for me in their busy lives. Especially if I don't see or hear from them much now. I feel like it'll be easier for everyone when I leave because then I won't be another complication, I'll be too far away to matter or include. I'll be in the past.

And it's thoughts like that that are causing me so much emotional stress. I can hear the crazy in there, don't worry, lol. I know that's just me talking, and that everyone would tell me otherwise, I'm just used to slipping out of people's lives. I hate that. I feel like the world's small enough now, technologically, that that shouldn't be the case. Surely there's time to "like" or comment on a Facebook post, maybe message to set up a Skype conversation, even with a time difference. Intentionality means more than most people realize, and I guess I won't find out until I get there what things will look like. I'm grateful for all of you, and I don't question this move in the slightest, I'm just struggling with some of the changes that will come with it.

So if you think of me, pray for me. I know this will probably be something I struggle with my whole life, but I'd really rather hear truth in my mind rather than lies. I don't want to assume that people think that way about me. I don't want to leave and feel alone. I realize that this season in my life here is about to close and I'm okay with that, I just don't want to leave you all in my past. I want you in my future, and I hope you want me there too. I also realize that some people are only with each other for a season, but I'd rather not have that season end as painfully as it feels now. Leaving is never easy. It'll be worth it, I know, but I really don't want to be the sobbing mess I am now when I'm on the long flight to London, and then with my new friends.

I want to trust that the friendships I have now won't fade or die. They'll alter I guess, but I would hope they wouldn't even really alter, except for the fact that we can't be together in person. Good on you all for being so amazing that I'm making myself sick over leaving you, lol. If you have any advice, please share it. I know my emotions are taking over and making me neurotic again, and I hate it just as much as you do, so please pray, when you can. I'm trying not to show it in person, but you know what they say, you can never tell what a person's going through just by looking on the outside. I love you all. Thanks for your prayers.

London Calling!

Hello friends!

Well, life's certainly been busy!

Since returning from London in May, I have completed my Masters in Theatre Studies (yippee!), turned twenty-five, and (here's the big news) I've been invited to join the YWAM Taboo Arts team for an Arts Internship! The first 1.5 months will consist of training in music/drama/dance/fine arts, and the second 2 months will consist of touring with the performances we've created. If all goes well, I'll join the team as a permanent staff member!

I'll be leaving towards the end of January, so I have some time. It's really been amazing, how God's made everything happen! As I look back over my life, I see how He's been preparing me for this since I was very little, and I can't wait to see what He has in store!

The team is called "Taboo Arts" because the person of Christ has become taboo in modern culture. The base is located in Notting Hill, London, which they say has more artists per square mile than in all of Western Europe! Because of this, we are able to move more freely as artists and be more readily accepted by the people there. Our team does a lot of street performing, music cafes, art galleries, painting in the streets, tattooing, etc.. Some of them were even involved in the opening/closing ceremonies for the Olympics! In fact, the man who ran the torch into the stadium was part of YWAM. So, as you can tell, they're very connected to the community! Their ministry is incredibly relevant; it's SO EXCITING to see a team that's using the arts effectively for outreach!

So, since my life is taking this new and exciting turn, I decided to revamp my blog a bit. I have added a PayPal button, for those of you who feel led to support me. The total amount of money that I will need to raise for this internship is 2,200 pounds (roughly $3,478), not including travel costs. While donations are tax-deductible, I'm not sure how to give you all receipts for those, so if you know how, tell me!

If you're unable to give, I completely understand. I would ask that you pray for me though! Specifically:

Discernment
Courage
Patience
Trust
Provision
Protection
Grace

Thanks friends! I'll try to keep you updated on here as much as I can. You know how bad I am at keeping up a blog, but I'll try to keep you posted as things change.

Until later!

Day 8: Hampton Court Palace

     Hello!

     Well, friends...today was my last day in London. I spent it with Kerrie and Nathan at Hampton Court Palace, which was perfect. You all know about my fascination with Henry VIII, so walking around his home (again) was thrilling. The palace had several more rooms open this year, as well as a new exhibit about Charles II’s mistresses, which I had heard about a month or so ago and really wanted to see. It was so amazing, being at that palace again. 

     It really is a labyrinth though! It took us about five hours to make it through the palace and the gardens, not because we were lost, but because it's so big! There was a throne room, and a more private throne room; public dining rooms for the king, and private dining rooms for the king. There ended up being three bedrooms for King William, each with different levels of publicity. There were several dining rooms, several drawing rooms, and hundreds of guest rooms. But what boggled my mind is, this palace was used by several monarchs, and none of them wanted to reuse the rooms of their predecessors; at least not in the same way. Henry VIII's portion was almost entirely destroyed by William and Mary, who wanted to remodel the palace in the Baroque style (my motto is: "if it's not Baroque, don't fix it!" Name that quote!). Fortunately, William was short on money and decided to leave the untouched portion of Hampton Court as it was. As a result, there are several wings of the palace that have been remodeled in several different styles. It's beautiful, absolutely, if a bit of a puzzle. The history that's there is so rich though, as you can imagine! 

Henry's Clock Tower

The Orangery

 The Windsor Castle Pub, in Kensington. Built in 1835!

     After leaving the Palace, we went to the Windsor Castle Pub for supper before Kerrie and Nathan walked me down a picturesque Kensington street to the underground. 

     I'm really sad to leave London. It was difficult last year, after having spent three weeks here. Since I only spent one week here, it's even more difficult. I miss my family and my friends, of course, but this city is very dear to me, and it's difficult to leave. It was a short trip, but I learned a lot. God had clearly ordained every single step, and He took care of me in the amazing, kind way He always does. He blessed me in ways I couldn't expect, and will always remember. He is so good! I leave for home tomorrow. I'll see you all soon!

Day 7: The V&A, Chez Paul, and "Les Miserables!"

     Hey there!

     Yesterday was absolutely magical. My plans were extremely loose for the day; I had planned to meet up with some friends from college at the Victoria & Albert Museum, then go where the wind took us.

Poseidon and Tritan

     After exploring the rooms that the first level had to offer, the girls wanted to move on and get something to eat. They had had a very full few days and were still jetlagged, so the museum was a bit overwhelming.  We decided to eat at Chez Paul, a small cafe version of the restaurant in Paris. It was absolutely WONDERFUL! I had a slice of their rhubarb and custard tart, along with a small cup of their luxury drinking chocolate. It tasted a bit like a version of hot chocolate that we used to sell at Starbucks. Unfortunately, it's long gone. I'm determined to find my own recipe for it, because it truly was a luxurious cup of chocolate!

     Considering the hours ahead, we entertained the idea of taking one of the many walks that London has to offer. At that point in the day, the only walks available were a pub walk (which we decided against), a ghost walk, and a Jack the Ripper walk. After weighing our options, we decided that either of those last two walks would be thrilling and spooky, but not something we'd want to deal with later on that evening after the lights were out. We're Drama and English students with overactive imaginations, can you blame us?

     So, after doing a bit of research, we found a low ticket price for "Les Miserables!" Two of the girls had never seen it before (none of us had seen it in London!), so the four of us quickly made our way down to the Queen's Theatre in Piccadilly. The ticket prices weren't as low as they were advertised, but...it's "Les Miserables!" So we bit the bullet and bought our tickets (which really were a decent price, even though they weren't as low as we wanted them to be). The show was incredible. The vocals and acting were top notch, of course (David Shannon played Jean Valjean!), and the set was remarkable. They managed to hide HUGE set pieces back stage, then bring them on and arrange them so smoothly that the scene changes seemed more like dissolves. The lighting was really specific, and it brought the show to life in a way I haven't experienced before. The orchestra was terrific, and I heard parts that I'd never heard before (I'm sure the show's changed since its beginning, which is the only recording I have of it)! I was blown away, and it was such a blessing to see it! It's my favorite show (followed VERY closely by "The Phantom of the Opera," and "Beauty and the Beast"), and I was really praying that I'd get to see it during this trip, even though I didn't think I'd have time. What an amazing experience! Every time I see a show, especially one of this caliber, it reminds me of why I'm doing what I'm doing. Theatre refreshes me, it's life.

     After the show ended, my friends and I found the stage door and were able to get autographs from the young women who played Cosette and Eponine. They were so sweet! So that was an extra thrill.

     On an unrelated side-note, I was able to witness Britain's finest firsthand. Yesterday, on the train, the driver came over the intercom to inform us that the train wouldn't go west of Hammersmith because there was a possible unexploded device. A few stops later, the police had ascertained that it was safe to continue and took care of the suspicious article. Last night, there was a man yelling at another outside of my window in what sounded like an African language. I've heard screams around here a couple of times, but not for any extended length of time. And there's usually loud conversations going on until about 2:00 in the morning. But this man was very upset, and it went on for several minutes. As I considered calling the police, I heard one of them begin to yell at the man below. I looked out of my window and saw about four policemen harshly telling him to be quiet, go home, and leave the man alone. Since they don't carry guns, most of us in America assume that they are powerless. From what I've seen (last year and this year), the policemen here are professional enough and strong enough to make London a city that has a statistically lower crime rate than other comparably sized cities. I'm not saying that they shouldn't have guns, but since they don't, I think they're managing their job fantastically well. It's a different crime culture out here, a different mindset that exists among the criminals. I don't think the no-guns policy is something we could ever have for policemen in the U.S., but it's admirable that it works so well here.

     Sorry for the lack of photos! I took more, but my mailbox is having trouble receiving them from my phone.

Day 6: The Tower, Shopping, and "Misterman"

     Hello!

     Yesterday, I went to the Tower of London with Kerrie and Nathan. Last month, I played Lady Jane Grey, the Nine Day Queen, in a play called "For the Least of These." Naturally, after spending so much time on the role, she became very dear to me. I've seen the Tower before, and while I loved it the first time, this trip was more of a pilgrimage. I made sure I stopped to buy a rose from a very friendly flower vendor in the Leicester Square station (I wanted to buy her an entire bouquet, but it was too expensive) to place on her grave.

     Unfortunately, I'd forgotten that her grave was roped off, as it is next to the altar in the chapel of St. Peter ad Vincula. Our Yeoman Warder gave us his condensed-but-excellent tour speech in the chapel, since it was raining, then had us leave quickly before the next tour group came. His account of Lady Jane Grey's plight was more sympathetic than I had heard anyone (besides me and Gil Elvgren, the writer of the play I was in) recount before, so I knew he would understand. I asked him if he would place the rose on her grave for me.

     "Yes, of course I will, sweetheart. I saw you with it earlier, and I'll be happy to place it for you right now."

     He seemed truly touched by my request. When he was called away, briefly, he placed it aside and promised to return and place it on her grave right away. It was really special to me, because I believe he understood exactly what I was feeling. Anne Boleyn gets a bouquet of red roses every year on the anniversary of her execution from a local society. While she was innocent of the charges against her, she was certainly not an innocent woman in other ways. In my mind, Lady Jane Grey is far more deserving, but she's often overlooked, since her reign was so short.

     That being done, we went on to tour the rest of the Tower. I thought of the Tower's previous occupants and wondered what they would have thought of what the Tower's become. William the Conqueror, the king who ordered it to be built, would be irate, I'm sure. He built it to be a fortress, and a source of intimidation. The precision and symmetry with which it was built struck fear into the hearts of the townspeople, who were not used to seeing such order and knew that it could not bode well. They were right.

Can you see the archer guarding the walls? He's perched on edge the furthest tower.

     While we walked through the exhibits, we saw the Queen's Jubilee Crystal! It will be the last beacon  (out of hundreds all over England) to be lit on her Jubilee. It will be lit by the Queen herself at 10:30 PM. 

     Of course, the Crown Jewels filled me with envy. They do sparkle so... *sigh*

     The rest of the exhibits were pretty cool. I had a new appreciation for the arms and armor section, after studying it extensively during my Rapier and Dagger class this past semester. 

This shows how the different English coins form different parts of a shield! Cool, huh?

     One of the guard statues up close

 Tower Bridge

"Jane," carved into the wall of Beauchamp Tower by her husband, Lord Guildford Dudley

     As we walked through Beauchamp Tower, there was a children's field trip there as well. Is there anything more adorable than a British child? One little boy kept walking around saying, "this is SERIOUS, an ADULT DIED!" with all the severity that such a statement must have required. It was ADORABLE. And they were all in their little matching uniforms and matching rain coats--SO CUTE! Their teacher told them that they were going to take them to a place that they had been advised not to take them, but they were going to anyway because they believed that they would behave. Another little boy (or possibly the same one), said "the graveyard?!" I smothered a chuckle as the teacher asked who said that. Why can't you buy little British children in the gift shops?

     After the Tower, I parted ways with Kerrie and Nathan to get some shopping done at Covent Garden. Most of the stores I couldn't afford to do anything more than browse in, but I finished the shopping that I needed to. I also bought an incredible apple tart from Fortnum and Mason, which I am determined to replicate:

     After that, I headed to the Lyttelton at the Royal National Theatre to see "Misterman," starring Cillian Murphy! It was a funny, moving, 90-minute monologue about a sweet, loving, kind-hearted man that believes that he is a prophet sent from God to reform his small, Irish village. He lives in a warehouse (a truly incredible set with functioning water pipes, tons of lights, props, etc.) and replays the events of a day in his past that he recorded. Cillian plays the entire town! I wasn't surprised that his performance was so incredible, because that's just how he is! But this was an entirely new side of him. I usually see him as the small-yet-intimidating young villain (he looks even smaller in real life! Still taller than me though. Go figure.), but this time he was filled with a manic energy, smiling and laughing, jumping and running, and playing each character with full-out, specific choices and a boldness that put me to shame. I was encouraged, on one hand, because I had to do the same thing in that play that I mentioned above (where I played Lady Jane Grey), and I saw that we had made the same choices! But then, he was so much better than me (obviously). So he inspired me to work even harder! He was truly amazing. 

     And the message was wonderful. It was about the moral choices that people make, and how everyone needs to be aware of how they treat those around them, because everyone has something to say. It was special to me, because I talk to mentally ill people on an almost daily basis, and I feel awful for them. Their fears are real, and they are never given the care they need (which they don't think they need anyway). Most people turn them away or ignore them, but they just need someone to listen, which is why I don't hang up on them when they call. They usually just talk themselves out, then hang up themselves. I can't help them, except by listening to them and praying for them, which is what I do. So this play was incredibly touching. It was so great that I bought the script! I waited outside of the stage doors to see if I could meet him, but after waiting for about 40 minutes, the door man came out and informed the small crowd that had gathered that he very rarely uses the stage door to leave the theatre, which didn't surprise me at all. All of his interviews, and even his bows after the show, seem to indicate that he's a more quiet, introverted man that would want to avoid crowds. It's understandable. Still, I waited another half an hour, just in case. It was just me and another woman, at that point, haha. The few, the faithful. I gave up around 10:30 though, feeling certain that he wasn't going to come, and I was numb from the cold. Austin Pendleton walked right past me though, so that was kind of cool.

     What a day! 

Day 5: Church, Kensington, and Some Laughs

     Greetings!

     On Sunday I visited my friend's church, Westminster Chapel (not Westminster Abbey, which many tourists mistake it for).

     It was so special to worship with my Christian family, overseas. I love how no matter where I go, I will always have family in the Church. I will always find a haven, and people that I have common ground with. Amazing! The congregation was friendly and welcoming, and the church was thriving and diverse, with many opportunities for fellowship and outreach. The pastor was honest, caring, and preached a wonderful expository message about the sufficiency and authority of Scripture, and how we should be obedient to God's Word and bold enough to change our society. When he prayed, he prayed specifically for ailing members of the church, for the Queen and her Jubilee, for David Cameron and the Parliament, for the churches of England, for their pastors, etc. I was so inspired by his passion, care and specificity. It was wonderful! The church reminded me so much of my church back home! It was Gospel-centered, and the pastor was truly an example for his congregation, willing to challenge and quick to exhort. I loved it!

     After catching up with my friend, I left to meet Nathan and Kerrie, friends from my home church. We spent the afternoon at Kensington Palace! I went there last year, but it was being renovated. They had made it into a magical, princess-themed palace, filled with interactive exhibits and decor that seemed almost straight out of Alice-in-Wonderland (except less trippy and scary). This year, the palace has a new look to it. I didn't take pictures of most of the inside, because it was too dark and we weren't allowed to use our flash. But it was still magical!

     Besides the awe I felt at standing in the room where Queen Victoria was born, or where she held her first Privy Council meeting, where Albert died, or where she first heard that she was queen, the castle continued to be interactive. I was looking at a piece of music that Albert had written for Victoria, and suddenly, out of nowhere, it began to play. I looked over at my friends, who had just read the instructions to press the button to hear the music, but did not press it. Someone else must have. It was a beautiful song! Victoria was a lucky girl! Which she was thoroughly aware of, of course.

Kensington Palace!

They really did! It was slightly creepy, but AWESOME! 

This, in a way, sums up Kensington. It's whimsical, magical, and beautiful. I love it!

My favorite couple! They'll be moving into the royal apartments at Kensington (which we saw the outside of!) next summer. 

     The palace also had a section for William and Mary; George I; James II and his wife, Mary of Modena; and Diana. Diana's section had photographs and some of her beautiful dresses, but it felt very strange to me. I know it's because she's the one I can remember; I remember the 90's and the styles that she made famous, I remember what she did, what she stood for, and when she died. I remember how the world wept at her sudden and untimely death. She was no saint, but it was still sad. So that room was interesting, but poignant. The section for George I was fun, as moving through the rooms involved a card game! You would collect cards as you walked through the rooms (if you could find them), then find out what they spell at the end to discover what your position would have been at the court. You could also play one of the "courtiers" to win a more elusive card. As it turned out, I would have been the Court Physician, which is ironic, as I would never touch a leech, nor am I able to watch surgery shows. But the game was fun. :)

      After that, we were starving, so we made our way to the Prince of Wales pub, where we shared a LOVELY supper of bacon and cheese jacket potatoes, a roasted chicken and bacon sandwich with chips (french fries), a hamburger (with an egg--odd, but good according to Nathan) and cider that tasted like candy! 

     From there, we made our way to another pub, where there was a comedy show going on, hosted by a friend of Kerrie's (and a fellow cupcake maker!). It was hilarious! There were five acts, and all of them were fantastic. The comedians had very quick wits and fantastic material. Once the MC found out that we were Americans, and that Nathan was in the Navy, he quickly and enthusiastically made Nathan the center of his acts (in a good-natured way). It was an absolutely fantastic evening. After the show ended, we spent time with Kerrie's friend and some of the comedians over a drink. Have I mentioned I love the pubs here? They're nothing like the pubs at home! Everyone is there for fellowship; it's a really friendly, welcoming place, not at all like the rowdy crowd I usually stay away from in pubs in the U.S.. It was a really fun night!  

Day 4: Gislingham

     Hello again!

     I LOVE this little village. Gislingham is a village so small that it can be crossed in five minutes. Each cottage has a name, and some still have thatched roofs! There is a pub, a town hall, a store, a primary school, a church, a football pitch, a playground, a mobile library, a mobile post office (which comes to their village for two hours each day), and a mobile fish and chips van (which comes on Wednesday nights). Doesn't that sound darling?! I couldn't believe how quiet it was last night.

     This morning, Mary and Mark took me to the town hall, where an art show was going on. That village is so talented! There were several paintings and sketches that I would eagerly have bought, if I'd had enough money. Everyone there seemed very kind and friendly. They all knew each other, of course. I don't know what the population is, but I'm sure it's only a few hundred, if that.

     After the art show, they took me to see St. Mary's Church, whose tower I'd seen poking out from behind some trees.

     The iron gate was rickety, and the tombstones were slanted and moss-covered. I LOVED it. As much as I was taken with it from the outside, the inside made my heart leap. It dates back to the Medieval times, and it still has some of the same, patterned tiles. The solid, English oak that was used to build parts of the church (including the ornate, intricately carved rafters and decorations) is still standing strong. Amazing! Mary told me that many of the churches in the area date back to the Norman times! I love it. I would have taken pictures of the inside, but they generally frown on that here.

     On the way back to their cottage, they took me around the back of the village to show me these views that the camera could not do justice to:

     After lunch, we drove a few villages over to a town called Diss, in the county of Norfolk. Since Gislingham is in Suffolk, I couldn't help but compare the two rivaling dukes whose titles came from these neighboring counties during the reign of Henry VIII. I know, I know, me and my obsessions. But...being in their former dukedoms and placing physical places with titles was really exciting for me! 

     The Duke of Norfolk (Thomas Howard) was the conniving, ambitious man who was behind the marriages of Anne Boleyn and Catherine Howard to Henry (the two wives that were beheaded). Not a great track record, which was why he was sent to the Tower. He wasn't executed, however. After Henry's death, he was released, and later aided Bloody Mary on her way to the throne, earning back the titles he had lost when he fell from Henry's favor. Sounds like a pretty bad guy, right? There's more, but I'll leave you to do that research. 

The Duke of Norfolk

     The Duke of Suffolk (Charles Brandon) was conniving and far from a saint himself, but his story is far more endearing. His father was killed by Richard III at the Battle of Bosworth during Henry VII's fight for the throne. Left as an orphan, Henry VII had him brought to court and raised there. This was not uncommon for the orphans of men who had performed a great service for the king, but Charles distinguished himself in other ways. He and Henry VII's son, the future Henry VIII, became the best of friends. He was actually closer in age to Henry's older brother, Arthur, but Charles had much more in common with Henry. They were both athletic, handsome (I know, I know, but for THEIR day they were handsome. Henry VIII wasn't always obese and insane!), extremely competitive, charming, and ladies' men. This was all well and good, until Charles and Henry's sister, Mary, fell in love. When Henry decided to marry his sister off to the aging King Louis XII of France, she agreed to marry him on the one condition that she would be allowed to choose her own husband once the king died. Henry, wanting her cooperation, agreed. 

     Charles was appointed to escort Mary to her marriage and to ensure that everything went according to plan. He also participated in the jousts celebrating their marriage. Soon, King Louis died, and Charles was sent back to France to collect Mary and--more importantly--the gold plate and jewels that were supposed to be given to Henry, as well as the reimbursement of the wedding costs, since she was now a widow. Since he was Henry's closest friend and well-titled, Henry seemed to be well-disposed to the idea of Charles marrying his sister. However, Charles had made many enemies in his high position, and Henry decided to use the gold plate and jewels as leverage: Mary, in return for the treasure. Charles was made to promise that he wouldn't propose to Mary, but his trip brought an unexpected surprise.

     Mary was being held under surveillance at the Hotel ("town house") de Cluny in Paris, just to make sure she was not carrying the heir of the French throne. 

     When Charles arrived, Mary met him in the chapel:

     She told him that if they were ever going to be together, they had to marry there, right then, before Henry could interfere. Charles agreed (I like to think it was because he loved her, but he was also known to be an opportunist. But...he was committing treason by marrying her, and he DID love her...so I'm going with the romantic version) and they were married secretly on March 3, 1515. When Henry found out, he was FURIOUS. His privy council urged him to have Charles executed, and they may very well have succeeded, had Cardinal Wolsey not intervened for them. After Charles agreed to pay an exorbitant fine, return Mary's dowry, and give Henry the precious golden plate and jewels, he was once again in the king's good graces and the two were officially married at Greenwich Palace on May 13, 1515. Charles, in spite of his daring move of marrying Henry's sister without his permission, was the only close friend of Henry's to die of natural causes, instead of Henry's anger. Pretty cool, huh?

     As it turns out, Mary is buried in the abbey at Bury-St-Edmunds, in Suffolk--just a village over from Gislingham. I KNEW I'd heard of that village before! You can imagine how upset I am that I missed that, because Mary and Mark would gladly have taken me to see her. *sigh* Next time...

     I hope you enjoyed that rather lengthy tidbit of history as much as I do. I really want to write a novel about it someday. Apparently, their tenants really loved them both, and their romantic story. They were kind landlords, and very much in love. OH! And another interesting tidbit? One of their grandchildren was Lady Jane Grey, the nine day queen, who I portrayed in a play last month. 

     It is now very late (or early, I should say), and I'm back in my hotel, noshing on a Cadbury chocolate bar that Mark and Mary were kind enough to buy for me (8 of them, actually. We'll see if any of them make it back to the States...) before they took me to the station, complete with a packed dinner. Aren't they the best?

Stowmarket Station. Look how old it is! 

     Until tomorrow!

Bluebells!

Yum!

Day 3: Into the Countryside

     Hey there!

     Yesterday morning, I left London to visit friends in East Anglia. I took the train, so I was able to see a good bit of the countryside. It was breathtaking! The grape seed is in bloom, so there were patches of bright yellow here and there in the green landscape. There were trees scattered here and there, wildflowers, and some sort of cereal that is growing that gives an even richer green tone to the landscape. My friends picked me up in a village called Stowmarket, then, after lunch, drove me to their new home in a village about twenty minutes away called Gislingham. 

     These are the friends I stayed with last year, when they lived in Greater London. They are some of the kindest people you could ever hope to meet, and they unfailingly treat me like their grandchild every time I see them. Precious!

     They showed me around their new home, then Mary (not her real name, since I'm overly cautious...) showed me how to make Victoria Sandwich Cake! The recipe is posted at the end of this entry.

Bread pudding (made by Mary's husband, "Mark") in the background, and Victoria Sandwich Cake!

     We enjoyed a lovely supper, lots of tea, and great time spent catching up. You know those friends who you don't see in a while, but it feels like no time has passed at all when you meet again? These are those friends. I always feel so comfortable and at home with them. Their hospitality is unparalleled. Mary's Mother, Samantha (different name), was also there. She is a darling woman, and it was lovely to spend time with her again. She's approaching ninety now, but she's still as sharp as a tack! Mary got out her memorabilia from Queen Elizabeth II's coronation, so I spent hours pouring over it. I still didn't finish looking at everything! I was also really interested in the advertisements they'd listed:

   From a magazine called "Picture Post," published June 13, 1953

From "Illustrated" magazine, an ad from France for Queen Elizabeth II's coronation

     Fun, yes? It was such a different time! There were all sorts of ads especially for housewives and white collar workers. 

     And now, the recipe for Victoria Sandwich Cake!

     Victoria Sponge Cake

     8 oz. Caster Sugar

     8 oz. Soft Butter (salted works well, because there is no other salt in this recipe)

     4 eggs

     8 oz. Self-Rising Flour

     1 teaspoon Baking Powder

     2 Tablespoons Milk

     Butter Cream

     4 oz. Soft Butter (again, salted works well)

     5 oz. Powdered Sugar

     Vanilla Extract (optional)

     You will also need jam (raspberry is traditional, but any kind will do)

     Divide the batter into 2  7 1/2 inch or 8 inch pans and bake at 350 degrees for 20 minutes. Once the cake cools, spread your butter cream mixture on the bottom of one half, and spread the jam on the top of the other half. Sprinkle powdered sugar on top. From what I saw, it seems traditional to eat a slice of this cake with your hands, not with a utensil. I prefer a utensil, but do what you will! Whatever you do, enjoy!

     Cheers!