Kunkel Fam at Easter 

Mom Vicki and daughters at Easter 

Zoe prays in her sleep! What a holy child 

Aunt Tiff, Mom and the girls 

Look Mom, the bunny really does lay eggs! 

We're Out of Our House!

Its done!

We're finally out, and its been quite the move:

1. Janette can't lift anything heavier than a postage stamp
2. She's still recovering from her operation (doing well) but is in a lot of pain
3. Instead of taking everything out at once like a "normal" move, we had to send it to the four corners of the earth. . . . some to sister Karalyn and fiance Danny, some to long term storage, some to Kevin and Amy, some to the Trinity mission team for their rummage sale, some to the Digregorio's for our stay in May and trip to Edinburgh, and finally, some to the Brockman's where we're staying for the month of April.
4. Yech!

It was the kind of move that I couldn't get much help for because it happened over a week, and it was all these little trips one at a time. . . . so I lifted and moved almost everything myself (thanks be unto Danny, Carter, Jordan, Kevin).

How weird it is to live in someone else's home. There's a sense of loss. . . . but strangely, a sense of peace and a lightening of the load. Along with releasing so many of our physical possessions, there has been a releasing of a weight on our souls. Its hard to express, but very real. And God brings His comfort at the most unexpected times. . . . like one of our neighborhood Christians stopping her car as she drove by to listen, cry, and talk with Janette. What a blessing dropped out of the blue like a mercy package dropped to starving people in the desert.

I'm listening to the new Jars of Clay as I write this. I'm not one to listen to much "christian" music because I think its an industry, but these guys consistently create authentic music that comes from a place of struggle, pain, and redemption. Go out and buy it.

And then listen to it for a month. . . .nonstop.

More on listening to good art in another post. . . I have strong opinions about good music and how often we should be listening to it.
Dust

Brokenness In Marriage

Kunkel Fam Adventures
Brokenness in Marriage

Janette and I had the opportunity to visit with and listen to a young couple yesterday. They are struggling mightily in their marriage, with all the usual things that young couples struggle with--what part of my family heritage to I keep? What part do I release? How much of me does my spouse get? Is there an "us?" or just each of us sharing living quarters? What does the "us" mean in practical ways? What if I want to do things my way? Am I really ready to come out of this cave, where I've been licking my wounds, and let my partner see me, touch me. . . and on and on. . . .

Every one of these HUGE issues Janette and I have already dealt with together, and it struck me that when we began to experience release in our oneness, it all stemmed from a particular attitude: brokenness.

To be "broken" means you quit trying to be the perfect person, you quit trying to cover up the crap, you quit wearing masks (as best as you know how) with the one you love. In a very real sense, brokenness is an attitude of "not doing" rather than "doing." Instead of trying harder, you begin to strip down. You meet each other in the bushes, in the garden, and begin to help each other take the fig leaves off.

Brokenness takes all the energy we usually reserve for "looking good" in the eyes of the world and our partner. Brokenness is the starting point, but its also the ending point. You may have made the commitment at the altar, but did you know the commitment was to be of "one flesh?" And that means you must allow your partner, your one flesh, to see you as you are, and just stand there. And who likes to stand naked in front of anybody?

If you focus on this brokenness, God will make the effects flow from it. Don't put the cart before the horse, like we did so many times in our marriage. Don't try to fix things, or add fresh burdens to your spouse's shoulders, without first being broken together in the garden of His delight.

to a recovering wife

poemadventure

half bent

not so epic today

green shirt

old navy green with the little blue whale

you wanted to wear on st paddy's day but were too sick

could barely move

even though your smile held the hints

not for the average wind-lover

but for me--who flies kites off your smiles in the wee hours of the mornin'--

for me there was a promise of a good breezy day

and you who walk like the iliad through my odyssey

cut strings, rip papers,

trample thorns and the scars made by them

leave me happily wounded one more day to be with you.

Things we've done that no one should have--at our age. . . .

Kunkel Fam Adventures

I've been thinking a little about what Janette and I have that's so special. . . .

After all, every couple has something that they think is cool about them, something that makes them different from everyone else.

But J. and I HAVE been through some interesting stuff--especially for people our age:

We parented 52 children in two years. Some were in for a day and gone. Some were there for the entire two years.

We helped a number of them graduate. . . . kids who may or may not have graduated without us.

(I pause in wonder. I'm not trying to brag. I really am in wonder that God would choose people like us to be involved in this kind of stuff. But wait. . . it gets even better.)

I got to walk a daughter down the aisle when I was 29.

I got to hold one of my first grandchildren in my arms and bless her when I was 30 (I also helped save her life, but that's another story).

We recorded an album 5 years ago, and though parts of it are rough (too little time and money to do it completely right) and make me wince there are still parts that make me cry. Its all songs I sang to my daughters and son (Jake) in the Shepherd's Home.

If I think back even a little further I can see a long line of young people mentored, loved, encouraged walking through the "peach pit"--our marriage student housing at the university, or hiking the trails around camp together. We were only 22 back then. I remember former roomates living in our basement for 3 months because they had nowhere to go. And the colonel walking in with his band buddies and asking if he could practice in the basement too. Umm. Does that add up to four roomies, plus the colonel, plus his three band buddies, plus Kevin Brewer in the back corner. . . is that nine?

And a single bathroom.

Well, that's not so special. I'm sure there are other people out there who've lived that life in college.

What really blows me away is the family stuff I talked about. That stuff makes me feel really really old. Old in my bones. From experience, from being there--even if I was only 26 at the time.

I walk around, and I know I look to most people like the latest band reject from "making the band," or maybe some surf bum fresh off the water. . . but underneath it all I'm a grandpa.

Yeah, I know, you'll say they're not from my "real" kids and its not the same thing.

But in my heart they're mine. I pray for them all the time. The circle of my heart doesn't know how far it can stretch; it just keeps stretching.

I know you can't read this yet, grandkids, but I love you. Orion, Ionna, Emily.

Adventure in the Trinity--a New Companion Site

If you want to read stuff that Dust has written (as well as select stuff from other people) that will challenge you and help you in this irreversible change we call growth. . . . then click on the link in the right column to "Adventure in the Trinity."

Peace,
Dust

Janette is Home!

Janette came home from the hospital. The Dr. said there were no complications. No news is good news, I suppose!

She's in a lot of pain, but that doesn't keep her from making sure the house is the way she wants it. You're amazing honey. . . . but you should go lie down!

Thanks to all who have been praying for her. Now pray for a full recovery.

Dust

Prayers for Janette's Operation

Friends,

We're preparing for an operation that happens at 3PM Tuesday March 15th.

Janette is going to have a hysterectomy. She has been seeing doctors for a number of years, tried a number of medications, and its the best bet for her health right now. Also, we are opting to do this while we are still in the U.S.

Please pray for her. Its a rather major operation, and it means she'll be bed bound for the next week, and after that, unable to do any kind of major lifting or work for another 3 or 4 weeks.

I will try to put short updates on this site, or she might be doing it too with the laptop if she's in bed!

Dust

Metolius Musing

I fished the Metolius today. . . . if you've never been, you should. You don't have to be a fisherman to enjoy it. The river is the only one I know that leaps out of the ground fully-formed. There's a crinkle in the earth between Black Butte and 3-Fingered Jack on the east side of the Cascades, and the river hides itself in the crinkle for miles and miles, I suppose, until it comes frothing out 30 feet wide from the cleavage of a hill hidden in Ponderosas. I made the pilgrimage today to this site and quietly stood and watched the water flow.

It doesn't stop, nor has it let up as far back as any human being can remember. Metolius is an Indian word, so I guess it was around in their day too.

Usually at this time of year--in a "normal" winter--I'd be trudging through snow up there on the East side. Today, the sun was out, the sky was, well, a blue that defies using a metaphor for it, and the Ponderosas arched over the river like cathedral pillars. Vanilla wafts through the air--before you start to laugh, you should know that the bark of Ponderosas puts off a pungent scent--just like vanilla. Try sticking your nose right up inside the crease of a Ponderosa and smell for yourself someday. (Thank you, Bob Baker for making me stick my nose 12 years ago in a craggy old Ponderosa standing on the flanks of the Bitterroot range!)

I fished some, but what I really did was smell, and listen, and look. I walked some, but what I really did was sit, and think, and stick my head in the water when it got too hot. I saw no fish rise all day. They're in-between the great hatches. The blue winged olives are almost gone and the March Browns and yellow stoneflies are yet to come. The fish were on the bottom and were not coming up. And I really wasn't in the mood to go down and get them with a fatty nymph.

Something every person should do regularly is be out in the woods for a whole day, or in the fields, and be a part of the day as it happens. From dawn to dusk. Don't go inside. Don't take a nap--okay, maybe a short one in the sun like a lazy cat if you have to. Don't take the phone. Its even better if it's a 3-day or week-long, but few of us make that happen.

What you'll find is context. And we really miss context in this world. Between the folded fingers of dusk and dawn lies a whole world. From first light to last light, there are subtle changes and countless happenings. I found it took me most of the early afternoon to just stop worrying. Once I released the worries, the sun and river and Ponderosas with their vanilla-laced fingers did the rest. Most of us know this. It's not a new thing. But to experience it?

Maybe we like our worries too much to go out and release them.

Did I say "rest?" That's what it is.

In a crinkle between two hills, in the cleavage of volcanic rock and moss, a river rises from the earth. His very footstool.

Dust

Kunkel's Create a Blog to Keep You in the Loop!

This site is an effort by us to keep you in the loop. . . .

There's a secondary reason that could be even more important (does that make it a primary reason?): Dustin has always loved to share his thoughts about the purpose of life, and the deep-tissue way that God loves to work in us.

Checking this blog weekly will be an opportunity for anyone who's enjoyed conversations with me to tune in and get more than just news--maybe a little brain or heart-start.

Peace!

Kunkel Fam Adventures

Kunkel Fam Pix

The Fam--SuperSize! 

Sisters, Christmas '04 

Storm Peak Lake, 8500 ft, Central Idaho. . . .A cutthroat on every cast. . . . 

Wild at Heart, summer 2003 

A tired by happy fam (minus Dad)! 

How may I educate you? 

Sisters, sisters, la-la la-la la-la-la-la, sisters. . . . 

Your friendly raft guide!