You Come Too

May 26, 2010

Creativity and hospitality go together. The best art is invitational.

A few years ago I lived with a friend who liked to go dancing – swing, salsa, and tango. She often invited me to go with her. I wasn’t very good. Fortunately for me, when it comes to dancing, guys lead; girls follow. Maybe this sounds like outmoded gender politics, but as a beginning dancer, I was happy to let someone else take the reins.  I quickly learned that there were three kinds of leaders on the dance floor. There were guys who were as clueless as I was. I didn’t feel embarrassed by my lack of skill when I danced with them, but lurching around the floor with them wasn’t all that fun either. Then there were the guys who were better dancers than I was and determined to show off. I remember swing dancing with one guy who flung me around like a yoyo, while he executed perfect moves. I was furious with him: he clearly cared nothing for my comfort or skill level; he just wanted to look good. But there was a third kind leader. These guys were at least as skilled as the show-offs, but they didn’t flaunt it. They taught gently, helping me forget my nervousness and find the rhythm. When they led, I danced better than I actually knew how to dance. These leaders were invitational; they gave me the chance to be beautiful.

The best writers, like the best dance leaders, are invitational. Through their stories, they create a space I can enter and explore. For me the highest art experience is the feeling of being taken into another place. Art invites me in.

If I use my creativity for anything, I want to invite others into beauty. Sometimes I get tripped up by my desire to be admired. But creativity isn’t about getting people to look at me. It’s about inviting people into beauty, saying “You come too.”

The Pasture

By Robert Frost


I’m going out to clean the pasture spring;

I’ll only stop to rake the leaves away

(And wait to watch the water clear, I may):

I shan’t be gone long. –You come too.


I’m going out to fetch the little calf

That’s standing by the mother. It’s so young

It totters when she licks it with her tongue.

I shan’t be gone long. –You come too.

I Am the Prodigal Son

May 19, 2010

Hi all. I recently dug up this article I once wrote for a church newsletter. Although I wrote it several years ago, I think it’s still pertinent, so I thought I’d share it. As always, thanks for reading!

Rembrandt's "Return of the Prodigal Son"

While Jesus was having dinner at Levi’s house, many tax collectors and “sinners” were eating with him and his disciples, for there were many who followed him. When the teachers of the law who were Pharisees saw him eating with the “sinners” and tax collectors, they asked his disciples, “Why does he eat with tax collectors and ‘sinners’?”

On hearing this, Jesus said to them, “It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners.” Mark 2:15-17, NIV

I’ve always been a good person – a rule follower, and like the Pharisees, I struggle with arrogance and hypocrisy and with thinking I can do it on my own. So I must admit that it’s easier for me to identify with the Pharisees in this story than with the tax collectors and “sinners.” For that reason, Jesus’ statement here always used to bother me. It seemed to me that Jesus was telling the Pharisees, “Back off! I’m here for these people you call ‘sinners;’ I’m not here for you.” As someone who identified with the Pharisees, I found this disturbing.

It was an encounter with another gospel story that helped me come to grips with what Jesus was saying here. One Monday morning during my junior year of college, my creative writing professor decided to open class with a story. From her King James Bible, she read us the parable of the prodigal son, and she told us, “I’ve always identified with the older brother in this story, but I recently realized something that I’d always known but never really assented to; I realized I am the prodigal son.”

“I am the prodigal son.” I too have known this all my life, but just as I had always identified with the Pharisees, I had also seen myself in the role of the obedient, yet unhappy older brother in the story of the prodigal son. But the truth is, as a sinner saved by grace, I am the prodigal son. I am the one who has been forgiven much. I was dead in my sin until Christ saved me.

Only when we realize the depth of our need and the extent of our own sinfulness are we able to experience the joy that comes from grace. When Jesus told the Pharisees that he had “not come to call the righteous, but sinners,” he was not telling the Pharisees that they were excluded from salvation; he was challenging them to recognize their own sinfulness in order that they too could be saved. Jesus is a friend of sinners, and that includes not only those who are guilty of murder and adultery, but also those who are guilty of hypocrisy, arrogance, and cowardice. The Pharisees’ problem was not that their sins were the wrong kind of sins for Jesus to forgive; their problem was that they never sought forgiveness.

It is a humbling experience to discover our true role in the story of salvation. We were dead in our sin, and because of Christ’s life, death, and resurrection, we have been given life. Even those of us who are like the Pharisees or the prodigal son’s older brother – rule-following church-goers, not outwardly rebellious – are sinners saved only by grace. God’s grace is the one thing that can transform people who are spiritually dead into living heirs of God.

The good news is this: Christ died to save sinners, and as fallen human beings, you and I fit that category perfectly. Your sin is neither too great nor too small to be forgiven. So, whether you are a Pharisee or a “sinner,” if you humbly confess your sins to Christ, you can take joy in the knowledge that you are forgiven much.


Inspiration, Perspiration, and a Timer

May 12, 2010

How do you turn an idea into a completed story, painting, or song? You, of course, know what Edison said about inspiration and perspiration. You know that a great idea is only one percent of creativity; the other 99 percent will cost you a lot of time and hard work. And work can sometimes feel so overwhelming that it’s easy to give up on work altogether and let your idea waste away uncompleted.

Here is how I am trying to actually do creative work. Here is the process I am trying to follow:

  1. Brainstorm and set goals.
  2. Make a To Do list.
  3. Look at your week in advance; block off time for writing.
  4. Keep your promise to yourself and write during the time allotted for writing.
  5. Use a timer to keep you on track.

About that last one:

I’ve just started using this method, after hearing several writers recommend it. I’ve heard of several writers who write in timed sessions. Nothing but writing is allowed until the timer goes off. There are a couple of ways to do this.

  1. Set the timer for the amount of time you anticipate a certain project will take. Then work on that project steadily until the timer goes off. Don’t let yourself do anything else.
  2. Set a timer for 25 minutes, then work, work, work! When the timer goes off, take a five minute break – coffee, bathroom, stretch, email – whatever you want to do. After your break, start the process again … and again.

The second method appeals to me more. It helps me to know there will be a break coming up, plus, I think it’s healthy to get away from your computer every half hour or so.

I’m giving this a try, and I’ll let you know how it works for me. How do you get yourself to work on your creative projects?


Creative Inspirations, Part 2: Grace

May 5, 2010

Yesterday I wrote that one my creative inspirations is change. Seeing change not only inspires me in art; it inspires me in life. I see people making positive changes in their lives and world, and I want to do the same. Recently, for example, I’ve made some changes to the way I shop and the way I clean my home. The results: I’m saving money and treating the environment a little bit better.

I love making positive changes like this. I love the way I feel when I get it right. But I’ve found that I can only get it right for so long before I fail. And sometimes I fail badly. I choose wrong, and I get stuck. What I long for is a huge change, one I can’t accomplish on my own. I want to be transformed; I want to be redeemed. And for that, I desperately need God’s grace.

You probably know what grace is, but it doesn’t hurt to refresh your knowledge, so I’ll tell you again: Grace is God’s love and favor, given freely, not because of anything that we’ve done. It is the means of our salvation.

And that really inspires me. It makes me want to tell redemption stories and express transformation through art.

I don’t understand God’s grace, but I write about it anyway, because I think it is one thing really worth writing about. When I catch a glimpse of it, when I see that God, in all his hugeness, holiness, and power, genuinely cares about and even likes me … it makes me want to laugh. Maybe it’s because grace takes me by surprise. Grace is overwhelming and delightful and also somehow very funny. So often I feel lost and confused and like I don’t know anything, but I get this faint glimpse of something better, and it makes me want to laugh. It makes me want to create.

Grace inspires me. What inspires you?

The Heart Nebula


Creative Inspirations, Part 1

May 4, 2010

What inspires you to create? Changes get me thinking about story possibilities. A life change often provides an inciting incident that sparks a story. A change of scenery, a change of season, a career change, physical changes, relational changes … all of these are possible story-starters.

Even more inspiring are the changes that take place within people.

Don’t let anyone tell you, “People don’t change.” It is absolutely not true – not in life, and definitely not in story. Stories are all about the choices, challenges, and circumstances that change us:

A fearful person gets a chance to be brave.

A self-serving man chooses to sacrifice for the sake of others.

A downtrodden, rejected girl discovers unconditional love.

A slave finds freedom.

Something changes, and that inspires me. What inspires you?


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