It's here!

Would love it if you'd support our friends with The Flint Hill Fellowship as they release their first record. If you listen closely, you can hear us in Ireland playing it on repeat, stomping our feet, singing loud and thinking of home.

Well done, guys.


The Flint Hill Fellowship: Screen Printing from Dragan Visual Media on Vimeo.

Flint Hill Fellowship (a call to art)

Sometimes God forces our hand. He leaves us without many options, in a tight place, and we find ourselves calling out for help. It's hard to do that, to lean on other people, to make ourselves vulnerable, allow ourselves to be needy. But this is where service, compassion, and love come in. And that's what makes communities, families, and homes come alive. That's where Jesus dwells.

We found ourselves there more than once. And one sweet time (or two) John and Hailey answered the call. These guys, they are a gift, filled to the brim with fresh air and laughter, cocktails and books. They do it all and have done it all for us, including love on our kids and create lyrics and melodies.

I told Matt once I think I had found my heart language. We were new at Crossroads and new to this type of worship (a small, acoustic family circle, really), and I breathed it all in, came up new again. It wasn't John and his guitar (though talented) or the old hymns come to life (though inspired), but it was the atmosphere of peace. Of Spirit. Of humility and joy. Of stomping feet and raised hands.

Writing about it is hard, because we're gone now. So here's a taste for you (if you look closely, you'll see the wee three make a special cameo):

Praise and Thanks from John Dunne on Vimeo.

John and the Flint Hill Fellowship have recorded an album due to be released late Spring. But like us, they need a team of people to make it come alive (like the music, itself). We are so honoured to share the passion they have for God, for art, and for community, and we hope you'll consider joining us in supporting this work.


Erin Martinez, cello. Credit: Flint Hill Fellowship

Oh, and for your support, John is offering up awesome perks like name credit, handmade book of chord and lyric sheets, or a limited edition poster (have I mentioned that John is also a fantastic graphic designer?). I mean, really, how you can say no?

UPDATE: only a couple of days into their indiegogo campaign and they're already over halfway to the $2500 goal! Get in on this fast. :)

Election hangover in Babylon

As the polls were closing, results came quickly in and the victor of our presidential election was announced, I sighed with relief. I'm so thankful it's over, I'm so thankful it was decided quickly, I'm so thankful we have the freedom to participate in the process of choosing our leaders and defining our laws. It's not a perfect system (do I remember the details of the electoral college from 5th grade? no, I do not.), but I believe it to be a just one. For the most part. I think.

The question I struggle with on the day after the day after is... where do we go from here? Where do we meet, exchange ideas, compromise? How does one move past the disappointment of a race lost (or the ecstasy of a race won) and into the realm of a still-broken world that needs hope, longs for grace, aches for love? 

We know a guy, from way back when we were a mismatched Bible college couple deciding on churches based on the contemporary context of the hymnal. He was our friend, but you know, you move and lose touch and only occasionally interact (on Facebook, of course) during things like world-wide catastrophes and presidential elections.

For our old friend, Tuesday was both. And raving rants of exile, Babylon, the suffering of (American) Christians, and the coming tribulations were really too much for my hope-tinted-with-realism heart to bear. I get the pain of defeat, but I don't get the doom. I get the frustration and rage against the machine, but I don't get the end times analogy. I get the "I'm mad as hell and I'm not going to take it anymore!" But I don't get the, "I feel like we're living in the last book of Jeremiah!" For reals, look it up. It's a doozy.

This is what I wanted to say to him: Even in Babylon, even when the Jews were exiled and living under a dictatorship, God told them to build houses. He told them to plant gardens. He told them to raise up children and see them married. He told them to pray for the peace and prosperity of their city, for if the city experienced a renaissance - a rebirth - so would they! And He said, "I've not forgotten you. This is the plan we're going with. It'll be good, I promise." (I'm paraphrasing.)

The issue of their lives and hearts was so far beyond our petty political process. They were refugees, spiritual exiles, victims of ethnic cleansing! They were not pouting republicans or foot-stomping democrats. And really, all the evil in all the world is so far beyond the results of a free election in a free country (it's quite possible North Korea is living in some sort of last book of Jeremiah black hole).



But back here in 'Merica, even if your guy won on Tuesday, the problems - and the moral issues that wrought them -  won't go away in a day. And if your guy lost, you're still expected to be an active member of society, still expected to contribute. Whatever result we did or didn't wish for, we have no excuse to bury our heads in the sand.

And I think, for those of us who know and try to follow Jesus (I say try because even still, I sometimes get so lost on the rocky path), we're even more compelled, on the day after the day after, to love more and be more and look more for where God is moving. We join Him there. We cannot run away. We gotta plant those gardens, build those houses, raise up our kiddos and pray for the peace and prosperity of our city. I think this is called Kingdom living: doing what we can to bring a bit of heaven down to earth. 

And I would so much rather try to shine a little bit of heaven's light 'round these parts, than rain down hellfire and brimstone. We've got enough of that here, already.



How did this election affect you? Got any helpful hints for hope and healing? Boom: Alliteration.

On making excuses & not showing up :: 31 days of messy parenting {day 5}

It's an easy excuse I use too often.

"Sorry, I can't, I've got the kids."
"Oh, that sounds great, but it's a little too close to naptime."
"I'd love to, really, but, well, you know how toddlers are."

Life with the wee three is tailor-made for excuses of all kinds. They're loud and they're fast and they all run in different directions. They distract and disrupt and yell. Did I mention the biting? Or the falling and the crying? And I'm a mess. A real, human frazzled-and-frizzy-haired-mom-of-a-mess. I yell and cry, too. I chase them, and sigh, and want to hide. I'm embarrassed and exhausted.

These are my reasonings - my very adequate and totally understandable reasonings - for holding back, not showing up, missing out. I'm doing you a favor, I think. Truly, you wouldn't want us there.

Except... that's no way to live. And it's no way to teach your kids how to live. Or to serve. It's no way to be family within community. And it's really no way to grow or to learn or to love. 

And those are all the reasons why I said yes to today. Me and my kids are going to show up. We are going to be loud and we are going to be messy. We are going to go meet some other kiddos who are oh-so-far away from home. My kids are gonna love the heck out of them, for no other reason than they are kids, too, and they know what it's like to be away from home. We are going to craft it up good, even though we are not crafty and even though the wee lad will be running and throwing and probably eating said crafts.

It's too easy to say no, but it's oh so hard to train them in the way they should go if you don't show up at all. We may as well just all go together, before they start making excuses, too.

[a repost from April 2012]

So, who else has a mess - or just plain old life and family and biting toddlers - they're afraid to show up with?

To ask for some help, from you

I came to Starbucks to work and write, but it is hopping with people and the music is jamming and I've got three or four open documents in my queue, staring at me with cursors blinking. One sentence here, one paragraph there. Another is nearly finished, but waiting to pass on to better eyes than mine before hitting publish.

It is harder than I thought it would be, writing about leading a lazy life, or describing what it was like to walk arm-in-arm with my grandmother in an art gallery several months ago (lesson: write sooner, rather than later), or having a family member peruse your heart for fear it might slightly injure her's. This writing, it's a tough nut to crack. And sometimes I feel all the nuttier for it.

Which leads me to ask for some help, from you, wonderful warrior readers. What do you want to know? What have you been reading, or where do you suggest I look? I want to write more for us here, and less for me and my issue of the day (or week, or year). Let's jump off something, and wade into the depths a bit, and crack this bad boy together.

I'm all ears and typing fingers. Where do we go from here? 

On making excuses and not showing up

It's an easy excuse I use too often.

"Sorry, I can't, I've got the kids."
"Oh, that sounds great, but it's a little too close to naptime."
"I'd love to, really, but, well, you know how toddlers are."

Life with the wee three is tailor-made for excuses of all kinds. They're loud and they're fast and they all run in different directions. They distract and disrupt and yell. Did I mention the biting? Or the falling and the crying? And I'm a mess. A real, human frazzled-and-frizzy-haired-mom-of-a-mess. I yell and cry, too. I chase them, and sigh, and want to hide. I'm embarrassed and exhausted.

These are my reasonings - my very adequate and totally understandable reasonings - for holding back, not showing up, missing out. I'm doing you a favor, I think. Truly, you wouldn't want us there.

Except... that's no way to live. And it's no way to teach your kids how to live. Or to serve. It's no way to be family within community. And it's really no way to grow or to learn or to love. 

And those are all the reasons why I said yes to today. Me and my kids are going to show up. We are going to be loud and we are going to be messy. We are going to go meet some other kiddos who are oh-so-far away from home. My kids are gonna love the heck out of them, for no other reason than they are kids, too, and they know what it's like to be away from home. We are going to craft it up good, even though we are not crafty and even though the wee lad will be running and throwing and probably eating said crafts.

It's too easy to say no, but it's oh so hard to train them in the way they should go if you don't show up at all. We may as well just all go together, before they start making excuses, too.

So, who else has a mess - or just plain old life and family and biting toddlers - they're afraid to show up with?

31 days of LIVING in transition :: fellow travelers {day 25}

We spend the evening with friends and sweet wine. They are fellow travelers, walking a similar path of transition between two worlds. So much comfort, so much encouragement is found in our meeting and laughing and nodding. The parallel stories.

The friendship is not so old - only four years in - and only a month spent in proximity, but on this couch and sitting side-by-side, nothing feels new or awkward or strange. There is no angst, not much hidden, few things left unsaid. In so short a time, we fit it all in: the smell of newborn baby, the children who have grown, the companionship of a family who knows.

No judgment, but sweet communion.

31 days of LIVING in transition :: the change {day 16}

Not super transitiony, but about living, nonetheless. 

Had a brilliant afternoon with our church family in downtown Kansas City; a community and a city we've really grown to cherish. Didn't think I'd ever fall in love with my hometown, but during this past year we've really embraced re-discovering the city, eclectic neighbourhoods, downtown parks, yummy cafes... It's a vastly different city than the one we left 3+ years ago.

Or maybe we're just different people, and didn't know where or how to look for its treasures.

Maybe that's the lesson. During any transition, things will change. You will change. And it'll be OK. And you may discover the hidden treasures you never thought to look for.

Oh my, that is hokey! ha! G'night all.

31 days of LIVING in transition :: invite people in {day 13}

Once you've mastered leaving your house, it's time to let people in.



This aspect of life I struggle with most - opening my door and opening my heart - most likely due to just pure selfishness. I like to escape to our shabby little apartment, put my pjs on, and watch Alias for three hours straight.

If I don't invite people over, into my house and into my heart, there's no one there to judge me, no one there to pay attention to, no one there to question my all-about-me lifestyle. But then, there's also no one there to love on my family, no one there to share new stories with, no one there asking questions that need answering.

My other problem: I know I'm leaving. No matter where we are, I know it's not for the long haul. In the back of my mind, the thought that we'll be leaving in one or two years haunts me and tells me it's no use, too much energy, not enough time to actually make a lasting connection with anyone.

And that, my friends, is a lie. 

There is always time for a cup of tea. There is always time to let someone put their feet up. There is always time to love somebody. Do you know how much Jesus walked? A lot! From town to town, up and down Israel, from one mother-in-law's house to the tax collector's. He was constantly on the move. And yet, when the bleeding woman touched him, he stopped and asked her for her story.

If I'm going to proactively live in transition, we simply have to open our home to people. We need them to enter our chaos, understand our stories, pray for us or celebrate with us or mourn with us. And we have to do the same for them... or it's as if we never lived here at all.

No matter your transition - if you're in a moment of pain, or a moment of triumph - invite someone in to share a bit of the burden or the joy. Or at least a cup of tea. Let them see your mess.

Katharina, seeing our mess, which included a dissected baby grand piano in the dining room.

31 days of LIVING in transition :: leave your house {day 12}

Yes, leave it. Get off the couch (or, if you're anything like me, out from under the covers, outta bed, comb your frizzy hair), open the front door, and leave your house.

As heretofore mentioned, when in transition I want to run, I want to hide (much like Bono does). And while the hiding isn't so good, the running might actually be onto something. It is all too easy to not live and hide from the reality that change is coming - or recently happened - when the only thing staring back at you is your TV and your Facebook account. Leave. Your. House.



What to do when you leave your house? I'm so glad you asked! Here's a top 10 list for things to do when you leave your house, stop hiding from transition, get out of survival mode and take baby steps towards life!

1. walk around your neighbourhood (bonus: meet people & exercise).
2. find your closest coffee shop and become a regular (same time, same place, same barista).
3. update your card catalog: get a driver's license, library card, loyalty card (these things say: yes, I lived here! and become part of your history).
4. talk to someone for 10-30 seconds (longer than a simple, "thanks" but shorter than, "so when I was in the hospital with mumps..."). Repeat daily and quickly increase to hourly reps.
5. go to church (even if you don't want to, even if you're brand new, even if you're not a Christian. Church people are - mostly - friendly people and will like you and pray for you if you let them).
6. join a club or take a class (in addition to, or in lieu of, church). Places to look for said clubs/classes are: library, grocery store bulletin board, or Meetup.com.
7. get a haircut. By month five, you'll really need one.
8. go where the people are (I will cover this more later in the week).
9. find a park, plop down on some green space, and people watch.
10. day trip! pick a spot on the map within a couple hours drive, find a friend to go with (or take yourself and a journal/book), and spend the day away from the mess that is transition.

Now, don't think I practice all or any of these things every day. I've experimented with most of these, but the idea is to discover who you are, what feeds your soul, and what grounds you when everything else is up in the air. 

I try to remember that the best way to live with intention while permanently living in transition is to leave the four walls of my heart's shelter, and go where the people are, where relationships wait, where I can think and pray and actively pursue experiences in whatever current home, situation, job, mess I find myself in.

So yeah, leave your house, and find who you are, where you are, for however long you are there. Or here.

Five things to do when you relocate

There are a lot of downsides to relocating every couple of years: uprooting a nearly new home, saying goodbye to friends, trying to find new friends, learning where everything is and then forgetting how to get there... I could go on and on. And yet, there are a few helpful and enjoyable things that I've tried to incorporate with every new move with the hopes that this one, this latest move, will be easier than the one before.

1. Find - and visit - your local library
It's not just enough to know where it is, you have to actually go there! Before we moved overseas, I knew where our local library was and liked its close proximity to our house, but I think I only ventured in there once and it was to use the free internet to buy U2 tickets online in 2001. Shameful!

When we settled in our lovely village in County Meath, I made it my mission to find the nearest library and patronize it. Got a card and everything. And the world - or rather, that tiny part of Ireland - opened up for me, and with it came book club and friends and storytime with the kiddos and wall art on loan, not to mention the books and the lovely Fergus who paid my overdue fine. every. time.

Then, upon arriving back on the scene in the Midwest of the US, I again sought out the library, and walk my kids there weekly, anxious to see what will await us. Visiting your local library (frequently!) grounds you in your community, provides you with excuses to read anything or everything, and may even introduce you to your next best friend. Trust me.

2. Walk around your block, and then the one after that
The best way to not feel like a newbie weirdo in your unfamiliar neighbourhood? Become familiar with it. Walk it, explore it, wave to the neighbours, and repeat. You won't ever feel like you're at home until you recognize its scents, the way the leaves look in the sunset, or the children who call out to your children by name.

The Irish village we called home was easy to walk because, quite frankly, everyone walked. And when you try to pass someone on a very narrow stretch of footpath, you have to say hello. Not only this, but in our village, all the essential places - the shop, the post office, the pub - were all within a short walk. These places are where community happens and being able to walk there, and being willing to walk there, lessens our solitary confinement and enhances our community experience.

And when I walk, I pray. I pray for what I see, what's around me, and who may pass me by. This, more than anything, enhances the love I feel for the place I start to call home.

3. Research the Farmers' Market scene
Looking for good bread from the Mennonites? Love freshly picked flowers on a bright spring morning? Wonder where on earth you're going to find locally resourced honey to help you out with your wicked pollen allergies? Look no further than a Farmers' Market.

There are a handful that gather within 10 miles of our home, but the one I fancy is in downtown Kansas City (that's city centre to my European readers) and I would rather be there than anywhere else on a Saturday morning. The smells and sights and sounds emanating from this large city block make my heart happy. And we usually leave with a stroller-basket-full of fresh, locally grown, clean veggies and fruit. Not to mention cinnamon rolls, kettle corn, spices, daisies, honey (for the girl with eczema), etc., etc.

I've also heard it mentioned that one can find local organic farmers' markets, as well. I'm almost afraid to test this theory as I love our City Market farmers' market just too much and don't want to be tempted to stray. If you do have experience in this, though, feel free to add your thoughts below.

4. Find & play in green space
If you've recently moved to an urban area, this may seem unlikely at first. But at least in our current city, and the ones we've lived near in the past, this is more common than one might think. Look up your zip code (or township) on Google Maps and look for green. And then go there.

We have several beautiful parks out here in the suburbs, many of which have excellent playgrounds for the children to use and abuse, but my favourite parks are always in the city. Whether it's a large urban park with ducks in a pond, or a walking trail down an old trolley line, or even a field at the end of your cul-de-sac, go out and play on some green. You'll meet people, you'll laugh, you'll get dirty, and you'll tire yourself and your children (and/or pets) out and get a good night's sleep. Sounds like a bargain to me.

5. Rethink church
Not just think church, re-think church. I don't mean rethink whether or not you go to church or stop going altogether. On the contrary, there is no better time to evaluate what church means to you (and your family) and how you want faith to shape your home and your life than when you relocate to a new area of the state, country, or world.

Don't just look for that good 'ole denominational back-up, or plop into a new congregation sight unseen. Take some time to research, pray, prioritize, and seek out a faith community. Apart from parenting, there is probably no other greater influence on the life of your marriage, your family and your kids than the place where you will learn about God. The future really is shaped by what we believe about God and how we feel about His Son, Jesus Christ, and what we intend to do with that information.

Do you want your children to worship in church with you? Or are you looking for highly-efficient children's programs? Are you looking for something large with several extracurricular options? Or are you looking for an intimate family of believers? Are you searching for relationships over religion? Do you want your church, your community, and your mission field to blend into one? None of these things are mutually exclusive, but we all have a priority list when it comes to how we want to be involved in our faith. Take your time, visit, and pray... this may be the very best time to step out of one's pew and rethink what church really does mean.

These are just my five things, and there are probably loads more to choose from. If you've relocated recently, what do you suggest? I'm still looking for a few new things to try!