Mama, God, and Jane Austen

Is it cheeky to apologize on a blog? If so, then I apologize for that too. Oops! did it again!

But seriously, I would like to apologize to everyone for my attitude the past, well, couple weeks, or months, or maybe longer. I'm sorry for being self-centered and for whining too much. Roommates, I'm sorry for being a slob. Team and community group, I'm sorry for whining about the same cold that the rest of Madrid has had as well as me. Family, I'm sorry for not calling as much as I had been.

The past few days, I feel like I've turned a corner, started to climb out of a slump, woken up, or whatever you want to call it. I was talking to Heather today, and I dubbed it "attitude adjustment," which I think is pretty accurate.

When I was a kid and got in a funk, my mom used to tell me to "put my nose on straight." To be honest, I never understood what that meant. I don't think she was too philosophical about it, but blogs are the home of wanna be philosophers, so here I go: when my nose is not on straight, everything is slightly skewed. Picasso comes to mind--things are grotesque and out of proportion. Now that's cool in art, but in my emotions and mind it has caused things to get messy. A nasty cold that lingers on and on becomes the end of the world, and everyone hears about it over and over. Needing a few hours of alone time becomes a need to be sullen and withdraw, and politeness and hospitality fall short in the name of self-preservation. Being busy becomes an obsession swinging between work and rest, and neither are really acheived. Things become skewed; everything becomes out of proportion.

So, Mama, my nose is straightening.

The past week, I've started doing the daily office and readings from Celtic Daily Prayer, and following their scripture readings for each day. It's really meditative and very Christ focused, rather than me focused. This is a nice change from the past year or so, which is measured out in short intervals between temper tantrums with God. I've learned alot this year, but I've fought every lesson tooth and nail--when I look at what's written in my journal, it makes me think of Harry Potter in Dumbledore's office after a disaster, smashing stuff and yelling, while Dumbledore sits quietly and lets him finish. I think God has been sitting quietly and letting me finish, letting me get it all out.

One thing I love about Celtic Daily Prayer is that the passages are really short, and there's no rush--there's time to really meditate on the scripture and let it sink in. Earlier this week, I read part of Psalm 31, and the phrase "my times are in your hands" has stuck out to me all week. All of this stuff I whine about is in God's hands. What if I really took that seriously and let it sink in? How much would that change my attitude?

So God, I think I'm done. The tantrum's over. I'm ready to listen. My times are in Your hands.

I've been on a Jane Austen kick lately. I just finished reading Sense and Sensibility, and I love Elinor's politeness to everyone. She doesn't inflict her suffering on anyone. She's nice even to her enemies, and the people who are spiteful to her. She has every reason to whine and just doesn't.

So, Jane Austen, thanks for the example. I'll try.


I cleaned my desk.
I cleaned my room.
I made my bed.
I hung my pictures.
I finished unpacking those 2 boxes that have been staring at me since november.
I cleaned the toilet.
I worshipped.
I opened windows.
I feel better.

This week, this day, I will think about someone other than myself. I will practice hospitality without resentment. I will work when I should work, and really rest when it's time. I will be thankful for the million things I have to be thankful for.

I will put my nose on straight.

La Vida Multicultural

I am from the mountains of Harlan, KY.

I grew up, for the most part, surrounded by one language, one race, one religion. The biggest "cultural" behavior differences existed between the city school kids and the county school kids. The city school kids stopped wearing bangs before we did in the early 90's and were, in general, more snobby than we were (of course, my opinion may be a bit biased). We were mostly all white, mostly all protestant, mostly all with the same accent. Once in a while you would meet someone who was a Tennessee fan instead of a Kentucky fan.

This was normal life.

I love where I grew up, and I'm thankful for such a wonderful home. I love going back to the mountains. I wouldn't trade my hometown for anything.

But it's definitely different than life here. I live in Madrid, Spain.

To say that my life here is the opposite in many ways is not an exaggeration. Rather than simply describe life here, I'll give you an example.

Last night, our community group decided to do something that would bring us out into the community, and that would give us an opportunity to invite friends who might not be comfortable with a Bible study in someone's apartment. So we went to Cafe Manuela, a local cafe with great coffee and board games. We were sixteen people in all, crammed around a table that might have been intended to fit ten. The people immediately around me were from Australia, Holland, Germany, Nigeria, Peru, the U.S., and Morrocco (I hope I didn't leave anyone out!), and we decided to play a game of rummicub, because it's all numbers and doesn't have any questions that would give one language an advantage. I struggled through trying to explain rules in English and Spanish without mixing the two and failed more than a few times--I'm horrible at speaking two languages in the same conversation. The game went on with the main conversation in English and Spanish, with some side conversation in Dutch and German. A guy in the group from Nigeria was sitting next to me, and as I played, he taught me to count to ten in Ibo, one of the languages from Nigeria. That makes nine languages in my useless collection. I can count to ten all over the world, but nothing more!

It's on nights like this where the question "Where are you from?" often is answered with the question "Do you want the long version or the short version?"

This is normal now. This is life.

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to have always grown up in more than one culture. Would the homogenous region I'm from be as much of a shock as the diversity of Madrid was at first to me? A couple of weeks ago Kelly and April Crull and I were hanging out at the Cady's house. In the course of a conversation, Kelly said to 9 year old Meaghan Cady, "You're so sentimental."

She thought about the word for a minute and then asked, "What's that word in English?" I couldn't help but laugh. When I was a kid, it never would have occurred to me that a word I didn't understand was another language, and that was her first reaction! But I guess for the daughter of an American father and a Canadian (by way of Ecuador) mom who lives in Spain, why else wouldn't you understand a word? (Amy, who is 26, asked the same question today when I used the word "imbibing" in a sentence)

I no longer live in one culture. This is normal now.

I am from the mountains of Harlan, KY. I spent 3/4 of my life there. That is my culture. But now this is my culture too--the mix, the differences, the learning, the language, the diversity.

It's a strange place to be, this mix. There is a tension in me between a strong love for where I'm from and a strong love for where I am right now, and in the middle of that tension is where I live. This is what it is to be an "international," an "expat," an "extranjero," or whatever you want to call it. We live in that tension. We bring our homes with us and make new homes here. We struggle through new languages and new customs and try to reconcile them with what we've always known. We change our definitions of normal and we adapt and we grow to love where we are.

Will I always live in this place, this tension? Will "where are you from?" ever be a simple question again? Do I even want it to be? Will I ever have a permanent definition of a "normal life?" Do I want one?

I don't know.

if you're ever bored

Here's a fun game to play if you're ever bored. Type the answer to these categories into google images and pick one picture out of the first page each word brings up. Here's mine!


First name: Kelly. (As in Grace Kelly--see, I am graceful!)


Middle name: Renee (this is Renee Fleming--awesome opera star)


Last name: Wills (also, evidently, the nickname of Prince William)


Age on my next birthday: 25 (and i'm smart, so i picked Einstein)


City I grew up in: Harlan (if you can call it a city--i have no idea where this is, but it said it was harlan, ky)


Favorie color: Red (this is Harmony in Red by Matisse)


Place I'd like to live: Madrid (I know, I'm unimaginative)


Place I live now: Madrid


Habit I have: Chewing pens


Favorite food: chocolate


Favorite Animal: giraffe
You can't read it, but the caption says this: "Those aren't spots. Those are hickeys! Just who have you been necking with?"


Religion: I love Jesus


Dream job: foot model (not really, but I didn't want to look like I was copying Heather in everything, so I had to say something other than church planter)



Grandmother's name: Amy Wills (but this isn't her. This is Miss Central Pennsylvania or something)


Favorite smell: rain on the beach
(I don't know why this picture came up, but I couldn't help but post it!)

To Katie and Sam on your birthday

You can't read yet, Katie Rue and Sweet Sam. You're only one. You're still very small compared to how big you'll be in a year, or 5 years, or 20. But you're very big to me right now.

From the moment you were born--even before that, when your Mama was pregnant--you were miracles. You weren't expected to come at all--we hardly even dared to hope for you! But there you were, two of you. Katie, even before you were born you would stick out your leg and make a knot on your Mama's tummy. Sam, I wouldn't be surprised if you sucked your thumb before you were born.

And we didn't expect you so soon. You came early--Katie, you were impatient and just couldn't wait to get into the world. On the night you were born we were scared for your safety--you were so small. We prayed that God would protect your 13 inch, 2 pounds and a few ounce bodies. People all over the world--people that you'll never meet and even people that I'll never meet--prayed for you, Katie and Sam. We worried and watched and waited, and all that time God had you right in the middle of His hand. We know that now. But you had us worried!

We all fell in love with you the first time we saw you. I had to look at pictures for the first two months, and then when I finally held you, oh how I cried. I never knew two tiny things could hold such big spots in my heart.





And now, a year later, here you are:


Sam, with that sleepy smile and that thumb that just can't stay away from your mouth. And Katie, standing up, taking steps, being a miracle just by being alive, much less standing and laughing and playing and fighting with your brother over a toy.

You're a year bigger. We've watched you grow and learn, and we've grown and learned about you and about God through you. He's still got you in that same place, right in the middle of His hand. You'll get bigger each year. Each year I'll be amazed at how big you are and how small you were, and how God knew that you belonged to this family long before we had even thought it possible.

And each year you get bigger, as we wait and watch and worry, because that's what grownups do, you'll still be in the same place--right in the middle of God's hand.

Happy first birthday. I love you.

Love,
Aunt Kelly

Oasis Talk--Right Brain

This was the talk that I gave last night at our Oasis Madrid service. After the talk, we had a bout 30 minutes of really fun worship time, where we did all sorts of new and interesting things to experience God in different ways (worship stations, Art table, stones of remembrance, some writing on mirrors, etc.)---Can I just say that I LOVE my church? It was so awesome to see everyone really engaging and praising God in creative ways. Anyway, here's the talk.....

For the past several months at our Oasis Services, we have been doing a series of talks called “body parts,” centering on this theme verse in Romans 6: “…offer the parts of your body to him as instruments of righteousness.” So each service we’ve looked at different parts of the body—heart, sex parts, hands, feet, arms, and last time we started on a 2-part set about the brain. Now the reason we split the brain up into two services is that the brain does so much, and does so many different things, that we couldn’t really fit it into one talk.

So last time, Troy spoke about “Left Brain.” He described the left brain as the more logical, intellectual, rational side of the brain, and the right brain as the more emotional, creative (his exact words were artsy fartsy), irrational side. My first instinct was to be offended at this, but then, no, when you think about it, it’s not offensive. Troy’s comments aside, we can all see who is and isn’t speaking when it’s time to talk about being in your RIGHT mind! As much as I joke about it, though, I really appreciate being part of a church that recognizes creativity and emotion as valid—that recognizes that people are different and think differently, and that we can interact with God in different ways. That not only can we think about God intellectually, but we can and should interact with Him creatively and emotionally as well.

I hope that what I just said was not a revelation to you, actually. I hope that you already knew that, and what I have to say tonight is just a reminder. I hope that if you’ve been around here for a while that you’ve experienced that truth as part of our community.

But just in case you need to hear it again, let me say it again: not only can we think about God intellectually, but we can and should interact with Him creatively and emotionally as well.

Often in the church, I think we see creativity as something extra. We can use it to make things look pretty or to make a sermon more interesting, but often we don’t really see it as an important part of our relationship with God. The easiest thing to do is to relegate creativity to a few people who are really into that stuff, and then they can share it with the rest. But I think that lets all of us off the hook, actually. I think that even if some of us are more logical, intellectual, rational people, we all have a creative, emotional side, and we all can use that part of ourselves to experience God in new ways.

Creativity is not an extra thing to add on if we have time. Creativity is built into us from the very beginning. In the story of creation in the book of Genesis, it says that God made humans in His image, in other words—he made us to look like Him, to reflect Him. The New Living Translation translates it as “God patterned them after himself…” The interesting thing is, at this point in the story all we have seen about God is that He is a creator. He is so infinitely creative that the Bible starts with that…..”In the beginning, God created…” and then goes on to name all of the wonderful things God made. Have you ever stopped to think about all the colors, all the animals, all the plants that are in the world? Have you ever thought about the amount of creativity it would require to come up with oceans and volcanoes and giraffes? The Psalmist, in Ps. 104, says this about creation: “What a wildly wonderful world, GOD! You made it all, with Wisdom at your side, made earth overflow with your wonderful creations.” And His creativity didn’t stop at the beginning. In the Old Testament, stories are told over and over of God’s creativity--of inventive and unorthodox plans that God comes up with to get his people, Israel, out of one scrape after another—for example: splitting a sea in half so they can walk through, feeding them by raining down food from heaven, defeating a city by having the army yell at walls, sending prophet after prophet to remind them through drama, speech, and poetry.

In the Gospels, God continues to show the creative extremes He will go to, all to reach and rescue His people, by becoming human—one of His own creation. The mystery of God was suddenly a person—someone we could see, hear, and touch. All-powerful God, becoming a weak human, so that He can rescue humans, so that in the end He’s glorified and worshipped even more. Jesus’ humanity was definitely an innovative approach to reconcile us to God! And then in the book of Acts, at the very beginning of the church, the Holy Spirit makes a dramatic entrance with fire and all sorts of languages, visions and dreams. Then God chooses to use Paul, a person who was determined to personally do his best to obliterate followers of Jesus from his culture, to be a missionary—traveling far and wide to spread the very thing he had tried to stop. The book of Revelation, the end of the story, is full of images so wildly different from anything we can imagine that after 2000 years we’re still trying to figure out what on earth it means!

Throughout the Bible, God shows us over and over that He is beyond our logic. He says this plainly through the prophet Isaiah when he says "My thoughts are completely different from yours," says the LORD. "And my ways are far beyond anything you could imagine.” (Is. 58:8) THIS is the God that made us in His image, the creator. When He patterned us after himself, part of that pattern is very, very creative.

We can say the same thing about our emotions—we are emotional beings because God is emotional. In the Old Testament, He shows every emotion from fierce anger to grief to delight to intense love. He compares Israel to his bride to show his depth of love. In the book of Hosea, he has the prophet demonstrate a love so crazy that he marries a prostitute, and over and over he goes back to buy her back when she runs away, because of His love. In Jesus’ life, we see him angry at the Pharisees and sometimes at his own disciples, we see him have compassion on the sick and the hungry, we see him grieve over Jerusalem, and we see Him cry and ask His father to please take away the responsibility of having to go through a horrible, public death. On the cross, he quotes the emotional psalms when he says—“my God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” God has emotions.

It would be enough to say that creativity and emotion are part of who we are because they are characteristics of God. But if you need more incentive, here it is! Creativity and emotion are part of our legacy as the people of God. Throughout history, God’s people have gone beyond the structured, normal formats of interacting with Him. After crossing the Red Sea and escaping Egypt, Moses and Miriam both sang, and the women danced and played their instruments in celebration. When they were building the tabernacle and the worship articles to go in it, God singled out two workers as being filled with His Spirit and set apart to do His work—because they were artists. In 1st Samuel, it says that when the Ark of the Covenant was brought back to the tabernacle, David danced, the priests sang, and the people shouted with joy. When King Jehosaphat cleaned out the idols and worship of other Gods from the nation, he and all the people bowed down in worship and then shouted their loyalty to God. After God’s people had been exiled and came back to rebuild the temple, the air was filled with the blend of some weeping for what was lost and some shouting for what was rebuilt. And the stories go on and on.

And then there are the psalms. The psalms are full of songs and poetry that express the full range of emotions to God in artistic form. Every emotion is brought to God with nothing held back. Take Psalm 22 and 23, for example. Psalm 23 is famous because it overflows with beautiful praise, peace, and assurance of God’s favor—

“the LORD is my shepherd; I have everything I need….”

“…even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil…”

“surely goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life…”

But the one right before it starts with this verse, equally familiar because Jesus used these same words when He was on the cross:

“my God, my God, why have you forsaken me?
Why do you remain so distant?
Why do you ignore my cries for help?”

This is one of the most famous contrasts in the Psalms, but the book is full of them. Emotions vary from one extreme to the other, and, whether negative or positive, they are real and often raw. They often ask questions that we are afraid to voice out loud. They often express desires that are far from Godly—kind of like an emotional vomit (wipe them out, dash them against the rocks, pay them back, humiliate them…), or comments that seem kind of sarcastic and impolite to the creator of the universe, like this one from Psalm 30: “What will you gain if I die?....can my dust praise you from the grave?....”. Some are songs of praise for deliverance and are bursting with joy. The one thing that ties the emotional spectrum of the Psalms together is this: they are all brought straight to God. Here’s what I’m feeling, God. It may not be right, but this is what I’ve got, and I’m bringing it to you. These are the songs of the emotional, creative people of God.

I could keep talking about the early church, the music and art and architecture throughout the centuries that has pointed to God over and over and over, about poets and mystics who expressed their heart despite persecution even within the church, about new movements of prayer, mission, and creativity that are resurging around the world today, but since I only have 30 minutes to talk, I hope you get the idea. God’s people have a long history of being a creative, emotional people.

On one hand, while I was researching in the Old Testament and the Psalms, I was amazed and slightly overwhelmed at the sheer volume of creativity and emotion that comes screaming off the page when you’re looking for it. On the other hand, I became more and more restless and frustrated with myself the more I read. And to be honest, slightly envious of these people. What did they have that I don’t have? Why do I look I look at the ancient Hebrews--a people who lived before Bible colleges, before the printing press and widespread literacy gave everyone the ability to search the scriptures themselves, especially before the coming of Jesus, the Messiah, and His amazing gospel that the Kingdom of God is available here and now, before His death and resurrection that brought forgiveness so that we can follow Him, before so many things that we take for granted---why do I look at the way they experienced God and feel like there’s an intensity and an abandon there that I’m missing out on? Why does it feel like we’re somehow way behind in our pursuit of God? Shouldn’t I have more to celebrate, not less?

Phillip Yancey articulated the same amazement and frustration when writing about the Psalms in his book The Bible Jesus Read. He says,

I sense in them an urgency, a desire and hunger for God that makes my own look anemic by contrast. The psalmists panted for God with their tongues hanging out, as an exhausted deer pants for water. They lay awake at night dreaming of “the fair beauty of the Lord.” They would rather spend one day in God’s presence than a thousand years elsewhere.
It was the advanced school of faith these poets were enrolled in, and often I feel more like a kindergartner.

When I began to research for this talk, I already believed that this was important, but now, after looking at just how creative God is, and just how creative His people are, I’m more convinced than ever. This is not an extra. This is important. As humans made in the image of God, we have creativity and emotions. And as God’s people creativity and emotion are built into us through our history—they are part of who we are. Because creativity and emotions are a part of who we are, then they are included when we offer ourselves to God as instruments of righteousness. In reality, not only is God OK with creativity and with emotions, He means for us to use them for Him!

So what keeps us from bringing our creativity and our emotions to God? What’s stopping us from experiencing God with all of ourselves?

Sometimes I think it’s laziness—the usual habits and formats with God may not be the only way God has created us to interact with Him, but often it’s easier to keep with a habit than to think of how to do something differently. Maybe it’s laziness because I know that God wants more than my intellect, but being creative and expressing emotions is a lot of work. And maybe it’s laziness because I know that in a community setting, if we all start being real then ugliness might come out, and there will be a mess to clean up. And if we all start being creative, there will probably be some messes to clean up there too.

If it’s laziness, then here’s my challenge: do it anyway. Yes, it’s new and different and might require effort, but it’s worth it. Yes, it gets messy in a community—all you have to do is read the story of God’s people throughout time or the Psalms that I just mentioned to see that, but it’s worth the mess.

Or maybe it’s fear. Maybe I’m afraid that I’ll try to be creative and it won’t be any good. Maybe I’m afraid I’ll fall flat on my face if I try to dance, or that my painting will look more like scribbles, or that my poetry will, well……suck. Maybe I’m afraid that if I express my emotions to God, what I really feel, whether it’s through words or movement or tears or visual arts, He’ll be surprised at what raw emotions, many of them ugly, I hold inside of me. Maybe He’ll be disgusted that I can’t get a hold of myself and I cry too much or that I might act immature and shout and dance my happiness instead of a quiet “thank you.”

If it’s fear that stops us, then I’ll say this—that’s what grace is for. Troy loves to say that grace means that there’s nothing we can do to make God love us any more or any less. So what if we screw up? So what if we fall when we dance, or if our poetry sucks? So what if we look like idiots when we cry? There is nothing we can do to make Him love us any more or any less. Some or all of these things are going to happen, and God already knows it. When we were created with creativity and emotions, God knew from the beginning that we wouldn’t always get it right, and He still loves us. We might be afraid, but He’s not. We can dance and dream and paint and write and cry to God.

I’m so thankful for that. I’m so glad that I can be myself with God. Literally for years, I tried experiencing God only through a very structured means, with long prayer lists divided by each day of the week, memorization charts, Bible reading charts, fasting charts, and journal space with bullet points for each thing I learned from scripture each day. And after a while, about 10 months after I moved to Spain, I finally acknowledged that I thought maybe I just couldn’t cut it as a Christian. I was thirsty to really experience God, and it just wasn’t happening. Thank God for a church that loved me as I was and encouraged my creativity at that time. Thank God for friends that I could talk to, and great books, and time to think and sort out what was the problem. And I began realizing something I thought I had known all along—God made me. He meant to make me, He knew how I would turn out, and He did it on purpose. He meant for me to be who I am. I remember how liberating it was for me to come to know—not just know the fact in my head, but really know, that I can be creative in my pursuit of God. That I can draw or sing a prayer, that I can spend time enjoying His creation--that I can bring my wildly varying emotions to Him in a way that really expresses what I feel.

This is an issue that’s really close to my heart, and that I can feel myself becoming more and more passionate about it as time goes on. I know we should be creative. I want to be a part of a community that creates and interacts with God in different ways together, and I really feel like helping this to happen is one of the reasons that I’m here in Madrid. So I want to share a bit of “my dream” with you. My dream is for us to really be creative. For us to be real about our emotions and bring them to God. In my mind I want to see dancers dancing their prayers to God, walls covered and notebooks filled with poetry and prose and painting, sculptors and actors making physical representations of their worship, people going outdoors and celebrating beauty in God’s creation. I want people to be drawn to Oasis Madrid because of an intense reality with each other and with God. I want to see the strategic thinkers and the planners and the “new idea” people working together and using the abilities God has given them to make a difference in the community around us. I want to see creative expressions grow up from within the church here in Madrid.

I guess to sum it all up, I want us to know—to really know, that we can be who we are in our interaction with God. I want us to be who we were made to be. He made us. He meant to. It wasn’t an accident. He gave us our intellect and our logic, AND He gave us our creativity and our emotions. We are people made in the image of a creative God, we are part of a history of people who are creative, and we bring our creativity and our emotions to God as instruments of righteousness.