1) 32 birthday gift ideas for girls who don't like princesses :: I remember, before she was born, praying for our sweet little girl and asking God to make her however He wanted her. I prayed she would feel free to be or do or go wherever, that she would never feel hemmed in by her gender or her age or her circumstance. I want her to be fierce, God, I prayed. Fierce and wild and strong. And He said, Sure thing, Karen. So that's how we got Ella. I love this list of birthday ideas for non-girly girls, which will help immensely when her 7th (7?!) birthday rolls around in October. Thanks, Rookie Moms!

2) Mornings with my boys :: Matt's been working an actual normal schedule this week, and with Ella @ Camogie Camp, just me and the boys have been chillin'. These guys... they play hard and fight hard, and Jack is so patient with Ash, and Ash is so in love with Jack. "My brother!" they both cry, frequently, in good times and bad. Love them.



3) Date nights in the garden :: You know how people say, "You should do regular (weekly, bi-weekly, monthly, whatever) date nights. Married people need date nights!"? Well, they're right - we do need date nights. But the euros required for actual date nights are few and far between. So we do date nights with Doctor Who on the couch. Or we do date nights in the twilight of the back garden. This week we sat back there, after the kids were in bed and the daylight waning, and we listed our missed things, well-loved things from back home. Top of the list: the people (family, friends, Crossroads, community group), then places (River Market, our park in the city, the Grand Balcony), then food (ohhh, Margaritas, how I need you!). It was bittersweet, but good to remember. And truly, we have traded quite nicely. Date nights in the garden... what will we do in winter?

4) What Missional Communities Do :: An acquaintance on Facebook shared this, and it's totally our jam:

What Missional Communities do:
You’ll use the old rubble of past lives to build anew,
rebuild the foundations from out of your past.
You’ll be known as those who can fix anything,
restore old ruins, rebuild and renovate,
make the community livable again. 
Isaiah 58:12 {The Message}

5) #IrishHeatwave :: Want a dose of happy? Search the instagram hashtag #irishheatwave. We may not have any air conditioning, nary an outdoor swimming pool or splashpad, but we've got beaches and oceans and loads of shiny happy people frolicking in this unbelievable weather. Thanks, God, for your good common grace.

***

Ok, that's my list. What's yours? 

The blessing of being broody

There are two distinct definitions of broody. One means the desire to reproduce offspring (this is the Irish definition, one I learnt as I carried my big baby frame around the place for 9 months; friends touching my belly, saying, "Oh, I'm feeling broody!"). The other means moody, meditative, introspective (this one I know from daily, personal experience).

The man is broody today (the latter, not the former). He spoke with friends, via skype from across the ocean. Two guys he worked with, hung out with, drank loads of coffee with, and prayed with. Great, God-loving, people-loving Irish guys. And he misses them. This he doesn't say much, but today he did. "I miss them." I think it's a phrase somewhat foreign to men, in which they express emotion and need for maintaining personal relationships and interactions with people other than their moms and/or wives.



I love this side of him, but to be honest, it kinda makes me uncomfortable. I mean, I'm the broody one. Melancholy, wistful, a little stormy. He's the steady bow, navigating the choppy waters, steering us onward and upward. So when he expresses a need, an emotion, a slight angsty-ness, I have to shut my mouth from saying, "Hey, you're the strong one, man. Hold it together!" Instead, I must nod and say, "I know. Me too." And we can be sad together in that moment, for the distance and the time lost.

Because here's the thing: I'm tired of feeling sad or bad about not being in Ireland. I'm tired of ending every conversation with guilt over not being there. When our friends say, "Get back soon," it's not because we've let them down, but because we're missed too. We lived there, and I know we will again. Today, that's good enough for me. The relationships, the work... those continue while we wait for God to show us the way and provide the means. Missing them is difficult, but really, it's oh so good. What we're doing is of some value, here and there.

Clearly God is still doing something, and it will be freaking amazing. Because if He wanted, He'd drop the funds in our lap and we'd be off. But instead, He's bringing people to us, working in hearts here and there, working in us and forcing us to be wholly dependent on Him for literally everything. Vehicles, schools, leases, shoes, wisdom teeth, inhalers, meetings, people, security, calling, life and breath... Everything. And seeing that, testifying to it, is worth the missing... painful though it may be.

"I'm gonna go make sawdust," he says after that broody moment we share. Alright then, I think. Onward and upward.





Soundtrack to Irish Broodiness :: Strict Joy, The Swell Season

***

What makes you broody? And more importantly, what music enhances said broodiness?

the spiritual ramifications of The Everyman's job

Your net worth is not your worth.

This was a brilliant line in an equally brilliant sermon this morning on the meaning of work. Usually I tend to just flit over the spiritual ramifications of The Everyman's job because the spiritual nature of our job should be, well, kinda obvious.

Though actually, it's not particularly obvious at the moment. Things are a bit haphazard, not ideally where we would like to be or what we'd prefer to be doing.

Husband is gone a lot, sometimes doing ministry-like things of sharing our work or meeting with supporters or anointing babies (ok, so that only happened once, but it was a fairly significant event for our gypsy souls). Other times he's working booty off in the lawn & garden section, carrying fertilizer or helping an old lady find the right mower for her back. In the meantime, I'm doing all sorts of mom things in mediocre fashion, like making truly terrible alfredo sauce or losing my cool during delayed bedtimes or giving my child an iPod Touch to watch cartoons on when he wakes up before 6 am.

Yep. I'm not feeling like a very good employee these days. My bosses are impatient with me. I slack off on the job. My retirement is not accruing anything, at all, ever. And I keep waiting to be transferred to another department. Same job title, different description. These daily chores don't feel very... important, special... eternal.

So I paid attention this morning. And the pastor said things like this:

"If God kept His Son Jesus in a carpenter's shop for 30 years, that was important work."

or

"God may not need your work, but your neighbour does."

or

"Your work..." (lawyer, burger guy, secretary, mom, church planter) "...is your contribution to the breaking-in of God's Kingdom on earth."

As I walk around in these achey mom shoes, feeling too tight and clumsy and not at all comfortable, I am breaking-in pieces of the Kingdom. Here, on the stained carpet of our living room floor. Gentleness, kindness, patience... sacrifice, generosity, grace... hope, faith, and love.

That's gold right there.

We're cultivating, he and I and you. Even when we don't feel very nimble with our shears and a bit overzealous with our watering cans. While we wait for the transfer, sigh under the weight of daily tasks, heave another bag of fertilizer and praying under our breath for that one person (or two, or three, or 10) we miss over there... there is a grand design to it, greater than we can see.

It is greater than retirement accounts and mortgage refinancing and diversifying investments. Those are all the ramifications, the after-effects. They're not the goal, not the purpose, not the soul of work.

Your net worth is not your worth.

Oh, I'm so glad it isn't mine.

***

So, do you feel like you're breaking-in the Kingdom today? Cuz you are, and I wanna hear about it.

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?

Figuring Out Equally Shared Parenting : Because we mess up

Ok, so we've done the roles thing, done the parenting thing, but here's where the rubber hits the road: how do we try, fail, and keep at it? What is essential, and what's not?



Making a go of it long term

For us, three keys go into making this work:

1) Flexibility : our schedule is different every week, if not every day, so we continue to try to embrace the differences and the difficulties. We make plans on the fly, so some days are busier while others see more downtime. For instance, today's schedule:

• Matt leaves at 6am for prayer meeting.
• I take kids to school at 8:30 am.
• Matt's home at 9am so he takes the wee lad for errands and playground.
• I head out the door at 9:30am to write.
• I'm home by 12:30pm so Matt can head to a friend's cafe for lunch, reading and paperwork.
• He'll pick up the kids on his way home while I make dinner.
• Tonight I'll be on kid duty while he makes calls, sets up appointments, and writes letters.

Tomorrow will be totally different, so we make daily adjustments and go with it. And when things get tough and we have to take on more, we do.



Flexibility also means having to reassess, frequently. A couple months ago we realized we were struggling to make ends meet. We live off a stipend of our usual overseas salary, so we try to keep it bare bones so that it's there when we we're ready to go. We knew returning to Ireland was our future, so getting full-time "real" jobs and no longer raising support wasn't an option. But we needed additional income. Last time, I did temp work over the holidays. This time it's Matt taking on more, working seasonally in a lawn & garden department.

Working alongside eachother in equally shared parenting means that we have equal say and responsibility in how this is all going to work. And it means when something's gotta give, we give. And we try to give graciously, knowing that this season isn't forever, and soon enough we'll be changing it up again, which leads me to...

2) Grace : The daily adjustments and "going with it" means we have to apply liberal amounts of grace. There are times when it gets a little tense and tiring and frustrating to not know what is next. Our work and family go hand-in-hand, so when we do sacrifice something (him doing more woodworking, or me having alone time to write, or putting off a needed purchase), we try to remember it's for a greater good.



I'm learning more and more that being a grace-giver in our life and ministry means doing the same for my spouse and my kids. We are in this together, fighting it out together, and working towards finding an intentionally holistic place to be a family on mission together. Especially since we are prone to...

3) Messing up : Matt likes to quote a professor of his who said something to the effect of "You don't have to be the perfect parent, you just have to be good enough." I'm not entirely sure that's an accurate quote or entirely true, but we are so imperfect at this. Some days we over-schedule and are in need of a literally-last-minute sitter (last Monday, for instance), on other days one of us is late for the pick-up routine. And some days, well, I just don't want to do any of it. I think: I want to be normal! And then we complain, and then we fight, and then... we remember.

We remember that handy Family Purpose Statement we did last year, we remember and dream about our work overseas, we remember this all goes so fast. So we broker a peace agreement, shake hands, wipe tears and try again.



In conclusion, a mild disclaimer: I know this approach isn't best for everyone, nor is it possible for everyone. Many of my best friends are the full-time mothers/homemakers in awesome families, while others have or want to work out of the home, and some may find themselves doing all of it alone. I'm not even sure if we'll always be able to parent or live this way.

I think for us, because of the path we find ourselves on, this is the way we've been led to grow and move. I hope it's not a discouragement to you, but rather an impetus to see there is more than one perfect way to be a great mom, dad, wife, husband, friend, partner or caretaker. In whatever season or situation you find yourself, I believe there is a best way made just for you, and as we've prayed to discover that way for us, I pray you will discover it, too.



So, questions? Concerns? Advice? Have you found your own "best way?" Bueller?

What Peeta and Bill Self have in common

I'm a little behind this week and still dealing with a minorly sick kiddo (should I be concerned about a lingering low-grade fever 2 weeks after croup attack?) and also watching a lot of basketball (Rock Chalk, Jayhawk!), as well as seeing this little unknown indie movie called The Hunger Games. In between all that, here's what got me thinking this week:

Amy Simpson :: What The Hunger Games Taught Me (and the Church Should Have) about Men

Why was Peeta’s love so compelling? Partly because he’s a wonderful character, partly because love is always compelling, and partly because I have issues. I have a hard time believing that men have the capacity to be genuinely loving.

The Kansas City Star :: Self has shaped the Jayhawks into muscle

Bill Self took this job only after his father called him soft. There is so much of the coach in this story. Nine years ago, with Roy Williams’ shadow still very much engulfing Kansas basketball, Self was unsure he wanted to deal with all of that.

Jamie the Very Worst Missionary :: Hugs for Jesus

Eventually, one of them found her way over to where we were sitting to offer a Jesus hug. Being a non-toucher, in general, I quickly declined. “No, thank you. I'm....I'm good.” And when my sweet, affection-loving friend finally relented to the poor girl's persistent (insistent?) offer to give her a hug from Jesus, I knew immediately that I had made the right decision.

The Tiny Twig :: How to Have Awesome Bangs

Oh! And, Megan said not to wear heavy bangs with a side-part…it’s just too much going on. It’s best to have your heavy bangs and then let your hair fall naturally from the crown of your head. [me: this bit of advice will change my life!]

 Rachel Held Evans :: "Will you always believe in Jesus, Mama?"

I paused, trying to decide how much of my backstory would be helpful. How could I explain that the doubts that had once made me an agnostic hadn’t completely resolved, but that I’d instead learned to embrace mystery and ambiguity? How could I tell him that sometimes it still felt to me that God wasn’t there either?

In the end, I chose a simple response. “Yes, buddy. Always. I’m in this for good. I don’t always understand everything, but I’ve chosen to follow Jesus.”

So did you see the Hunger Games? Did your favorite basketball team win or lose? What have you been reading?

On not being the very worst, when you were afraid you were.

It's quiet in the house (boy is gone with husband, wee lad is asleep, the girl is at school - yes, her spring break is not this week but next week. duh. of course). I should be working on the bazillion St. Patrick's Day cards we'll be sending out to our ministry partners a/k/a Support Squad a/k/a Prayer Posse, but instead I'm perusing a site I recently discovered and only just now had the chance to sit and read: http://www.theveryworstmissionary.com/.

Yep, this blog exists. And sadly, it is not written by me. I regret to inform you that the bad missionary blog niche is taken, so I'll just have to keep posting here as a lazy mom, missionary, and occasional freelance writer addicted to diet coke who isn't so great at transitional homemaking but tries hard anyway, sometimes.

But all that to say is: I'm so glad this blog exists because I really thought it was only just me. I really thought that I was the only person in the world who has found herself in ministry, doesn't know how she got there, lives for it and stresses about it and is slightly afraid of it, and also hates to ask people for money. But I'm not! There's someone worse than me! But she's also gorgeous, too, so I'm assuming that her being the very worst missionary is predicated on this fact. So, I mean really, she can't be expected to excel at everything.

My cousin Danielle and I, both missionaries, but Danielle is much higher on the scale than I am.
Because she lives in Africa. And homeschools. And is just all around amazing. True story.

So I salute you, Jamie @ The Very Worst Missionary. You are funny, smart, and braver than I to let the world in on your little secret with such aplomb and grace. Though I would've gone the anonymous route, but whatever. Sincerely, Your newest fan and Sis in Christ, Karen @ The River Into Words (soon to be trademarked).

Missional Mom : The Rest of the Story

If you followed my groundbreaking (though unfinished) series, 10 Books I'm Currently Not Finishing, you may be wondering if I ever did finish any of those books. The truth is, well, just barely. As in one. I finished one. 

And I had good incentive.

Helen Lee, author of The Missional Mom, was so kind enough to meet me at a conference for missional church planters, leaders, and visioncasters (is that a word? well, it is now), get in a car with a near-stranger (again, me), and share her journey, as well as the journey of other normal suburban, yet fearless and winsome women who dare to imagine a calling greater than that of mom. She is as down to earth as she is thoughtful and it was a pleasure to hear her heart for moms, for the needy, and for living a life that seeks to impact the world by serving it with and through your family.

Please check out the interview I did with Helen at Halogen, and visit her website for more information. Whether you're a mom, a dad, a child of God, or a friend in need, you will find something there to inspire the mission within.