For the past few years, my wife & I have spent a spring weekend hanging out in the coal country of Southern West Virginia at the HopeWords writer’s conference in Bluefield. It’s an unique respite from break-neck modernity, hanging out in a small town with the likes of Makoto Fujimura, Miroslav Volf, Katherine Paterson, Hannah Anderson, Justo González, Daniel Nayeri, Malcolm Guite, and more,1 talking about resurrection and life and the healing that God brings into the world through the creativity of His people. What Travis Lowe and his crew have pulled off over the past few years is nothing short of amazing.
This year, I couldn’t make it (still white-knuckling my way through weekend classes to finish an MDiv by May), but Rachel and our oldest daughter were able to go again.
Our old friend from college, Amanda Held Opelt, came along with us last year. This year, the hosts asked her join in through her musical capacity more than for her author “hat”. Amanda invited our daughter to join in to provide harmony on some Appalachian folk hymns. Travis sent me this photo of two fine musicians—one in her element, singing the music she knows and loves and lives, and one still beginning to find her voice—blessing a community of artists together.
This is not just a “proud dad” picture, though.
It’s a picture of what I think Hope Words excels at as an event. It is a celebration of the generosity of creative work. At the conference, there’s no green room, no special extras for speakers. Whether they are Newbery winners, acclaimed scholars, or best-sellers—they get up, give their talk, then sit down with the rest of the crowd and listen to the next one. They go out to meals with attendees. The whole event closes with a party in a mountain arts-education center.
This open-handedness is the point. Creativity happens in community. We have to grow and learn and be sharpened in conversation and collaboration with others. None of us is self-made, and all of us are blessed by the hand-up of fellow artists—whether we’re seasoned writers having our blind spots lovingly addressed or just kids given a chance to stand up and try our hand at moving an audience. All of us are looking for someone looking back at us when we share our work, waiting for the cycle of creativity to be completed as we reach one another.
In a world of competition and anxiety, this is a great a gift.
Not all in the same year, alas, but always a good lineup!
Generous generative community - yes!