Posing for Dad at the Fall River waterfalls. 

Look Zoe, this is how you reel in the big one. Too bad Dad can't catch anything! 

Learning to fly cast at Fall River. . . Dad taught us how! 

Unky Kunky with his prize possessions! 

My Side of Eugene.....thoughts from Janette

I read our blog today and brought it to Dustin's attention that he failed to mention anything else of our time in Eugene. What I didn't realize was that it appeared to be my job to update the blog too. So, here are some of the highlights of Eugene for the rest of the Kunkel Family.

*We started out the stay enduring an hour and a half of 6th through 8th graders showing what they have learned their last year in band. Lot's of squeeking!

*Zoe has a small bruise on her leg and a bigger one on her ego from getting bucked off of Moxie (her favorite horse at my moms farm). Zoe was riding while my mom walked beside her when Moxie got spooked and bucked Zoe off. When the horse went to kick, my mom dove over Zoe to protect her from the four legged beast. My mom came out a lot worse, kicked in the side of the head splitting her ear open and giving her one heck of a head ache. Zoe cried, she wanted back on the horse.

*Lily fell in love with wild flowers, learning all the names from Doug who taught us all something about the flora.

*Lily and Zoe followed their cousin Hillary everywhere she went, finally Hillary caught on, "If I go to the treehouse,they can't follow me!"

*Janette enjoyed special times with her mom, sister Cheri and cousin Kristie. Not to mention gardening, it just wasn't as enlightening for me as it seems to have been for Dustin. My thoughts were a bit more consumed with, "Why does he get to run the power tool and I get a rake and gloves?" MEN! Anything to do with powertools and fire and they take over. Actually, I was thankful he took it over.

Thanks Mom and Doug for housing us those few days.
A few people have made comments about our calander not being updated, that's my next job here on the blogspot.

Of blackberry roots and battle. . . .

The Kunkelfam hit the road this week. . . .

And the road cried out in pain. . . .

Horrible, horrible joke. For that, I apologize. But you have to read on because what follows is a true story (only the names have been changed to protect the blackberry bushes):

We've begun our pilgrimage and just finished some time with Mom Vicki and Doug out at their place south of Eugene.

We did lots of things together, but the most enjoyable by far was tilling up the old garden plot. It was a great day, with sharp, warm, June sun beating the clouds away and a little breeze playing with the trees. Mom has a rather large plot of garden that she's taking over (it had lain waste for years, the former owners never did much with it), and we had a roto tiller, rakes, gloves, shovels--the works. We were ready to go!

Mom had done the prelim work on the blackberry bushes (the State of Oregon consists of a single big blackberry bush, I'm convinced) by chopping them down to the ground, but you could still see their stubby, inch-thick trunks poking out of the soil every few feet. I entered the battle with great relish, removed my shirt to show disdain at their measly attempts to fight me, kicked them with my foot until one of them stuck me with a rather sharp needle, and presto!--the battle was joined.

The tiller revved up with a cough that sounded like a cross between a smoker with bronchitis and a harley davidson, I winced in pain, stuck a finger in my ear, and it died. The great warrior brushed the tears of pain from his eyes, got some cotton swabs from his mother-in-law, stuffed them in his ears, pulled the starter cord once again, and lunged forward with rage upon the first root.

The pulleys whirred, the engine screamed, and the tines dug deep into the earth. I waded into the first blackberry and the tiller choked a little, whined a little, paused, coughed, and churned up a blackberry plant. . . . except. . . . not all of it.
Anyone who's lived around native Oregon blackberries knows this like a fundamental truth of the universe: there's no getting rid of them. You just take them down as far as they can go, and then you stay on top of them with everything you've got.

Paul reminded me of this in Romans (my reading a few weeks ago that leaped to mind as I battled the blackberry roots) when he talked about dealing with the "root of the sinful flesh." I wondered at the time why he called it a root. But now I think I get it.

The flesh (old man, sinful nature, whatever you want to call it--its the part of you that yells out "NO!" to God) is never completely gone while we're in this body. But there are ways to make sure that it remains just a root and never a thorn-heavy vine that consumes your life.

I think of what it took to create that garden space: first, Mom had to decide that she wanted a garden there. She tallied up her time commitments, her needs for vegetables, but mostly just her passion for growing things, and decided she was planting a garden in this old patch. It starts with a reckoning, a drawing a line in the sand, a decision that this patch of land (this heart of mine) is going to grow vegetables and fruit, not blackberry vines.

Second, you need helpers.

Third, you need to keep deciding you want the garden there (forget the feeling-driven life because that will keep you inside watching cable or surfing the internet or living off the high you get from your fantasies)

Fourth, you need some tools.

Fifth, you need to keep deciding you want the garden (get the point now?).

Sixth, you get to work with the friends and the tools.

Seventh, you recognize who's in charge: the blackberries are on their way out, despite their adamant roots of steel, and the luscious tomatoes and juicy cucumbers and melons are on their way in. It's your garden, for God's sake! (He gave it to you)

Seven is a good, complete number, so I'll stop there. . . .

Rest of the story: I beat those blackberry roots to a pulp, beat my hands to a pulp, the sun beat my back to a pulp, and I emerged joyful and painful as a helper in Mom's task. There's nothing like putting in a garden. It's SO worth it.

Wherever you're at in life, I want to blow a little breeze on the coals in your heart: It's clear to me as I read the Word of God that the old way of life is on its way out. And that's REALLY good news. For me, personally, it was a HUGE transformation when I realized my identity wasn't caught up in the battle over the blackberry vines, but that the Great Gardener was with me and called me to be with Him. The battle became fun then, instead of drudgery. I started getting into the joy of ripping out the old to make way for the new. The fears began to leave, and God's Spirit brought something fresh to take their place. . . .

You may be at the very beginning, trying to decide if its worth it. If you step in, the promise is that you'll get all the help you need, moment by moment, to deal with it. You may be at the end of the cleanup, waiting for fruit to grow. Stick with it. The rains come; the sun rises each day; and without fail (barring slugs and aphids) the tomatoes will grow!

Thanks for the letting me "be the man," Mom, and push that tiller around your garden all afternoon. In more ways than one, it was good for me.

So this is why people live in California. . . .

Funny how you set out thinking you're going to do one thing in life, and end up getting that and so much more. . .

Janette and I were given free stand-by tickets on an airline and we used them to get away memorial day weekend to Santa Cruz. Janette has a good friend from high school, Leah, who lives there and we had a free place to stay, so we decided, "hey, lets go do this. we're going to need to just BE for a while after leaving our jobs. Let's go BE on the beach."

I'd never been to Santa Cruz and it was amazing. Amazing that a one bedroom home with a little bath can sell for $300,000. Amazing that the sun came out and the breeze gently played and we sat on the beach each day and tanned and watched the sailboats slice across the bay. So this is why people live in California!

Leah and her boyfriend Kyle were the most amazing hosts, taking us all over town, feeding us beyond the point of no return, and generally making life incredibly good! Thanks Kyle for the great conversation and good walks under the stars. Thanks Leah for opening your home and heart to us. (a shout out to Doug who went for beer when there was none. Now that's hospitality!)

Here are some things we experienced:

*people surfing off the cliffs of Santa Cruz on huge breakers

*sunshine

*wonderful conversation about everything from God to why girls smell worse than guys

*sunshine

*Vintage Faith Church--a worship service that brought the words "participatory" and "involved" and "Jesus-centered" to mind--incredible music played by a little group in the back of the building sitting on a little stage facing one another in a circle!

*sunshine

*sleeping in without being woken by these words, "Daddy come wipe me I pooped." (must be spoken in a sing-song voice with a hint of a lisp for the full effect)

*did I mention sunshine?

*watching Kyle drive "California style" and taking extensive notes for my return to Oregon (as I pulled into traffic today at 75mph, squeezing my truck into a space that wasn't there, I muttered to the driver in front of me who--of course--couldn't hear, "Watch out dude, I'm pulling a 'Kyle.'" Janette just looked at me and laughed. "You are crazy!" she said. "You can't drive like that up here!" Thanks Kyle for the motivation. . . .)

*sunshine, sunshine, sunshine. I started to scrape the layers of moss and lichen off my old hide with the beach sand but I got in trouble when the beach ranger guy came up and told me I was defacing the beach. "Take your Oregon trash back to the mists from which you came!" He yelled through his megaphone. To which I responded, "I'll take my moss and lichen back if you'll take that megaphone and place it in the one spot in California where the sun don't shine."

Okay, so I'm being a little drastic. The lifeguards were fine. It took about 17 of them to ascertain whether a woman had hurt her back while training on the the sand for sailing a catamaran. Truth be told--saw it with mine own eye.

There was so much more to this trip, so many layers that can't be covered in this little blog. But I need to say this: I shouldn't be surprised at all the cool little things God does but I am--surprised that we truly rested, add to that walking away with new friends and a new sense of what friendship is all about--It's being open and vulnerable and able to listen and share from your heart.

Seems like we only expect the cake and we get the frosting, the candles (lit up like a furnace), and the ice cream on the side. What a life. And sad to say for this part-time Oregonian, it happened in California.

Thanks again Leah and Kyle for the incredible weekend of rest. And thanks God, for California and the sunshine you put there. I guess.

Finishing . . . .

Packing up an office. . . . a lifetime. . . a classroom. . . .

Early morning coffee with friends we won't see for a many months or years. . . .

Late evening conferences with parents we've come to love as family. . . .

Tears almost every day--sad ones, happy ones. . . .

A final concert in the bar formerly known as "The Rabbit Hole. . . ."

Little girls walking across a rickety stage with their preschool "diplomas" in hand. . . .

A week full of goodbyes and "thank yous" and many more things that fall short of words here.

To all our friends and loved ones at Trinity, and to all the Kindergarten parents and children--THANK YOU.

Your care for us and obvious sorrow to see us go is a painful joy--painful that we are loved so much, joyful that you will remember us and pray for us and support us.

If we could leave you with only one thing, it would be this: That there is a strong and powerful Guide for us, a Counselor, a Comfortor, and He will lead you--and us--into all Truth. And isn't Truth what we're all looking for, deep at the core of our hearts?

Peace be with you. As the Father is sending us, so He is sending you. Listen to His voice through the Spirit, and you will find adventure around every corner, in your workplace, maybe in your own backyard. . . . even greater: you might be found by Him. A scary and delightful experience!

From our hearts to yours--Peace!

Dust and Jan, Lil' and Zo'

PS. Can someone leave and not be gone?

We sat today at a memorial service, and celebrated the Grace of Jesus in the life of Irene Rubin, sang out our hearts, and remembered our beloved organist and friend who--after 77 years--moved on to greener pastures. . . . and it felt like any moment she might walk in and take over for Earlene on the organ. I caught myself thinking that she just might, and then getting angry that she wasn't. And yet, the greater truth dawns that this is not goodbye--a farewell, a "see you later," but not goodbye.

Can someone remain close--even if it's on the other side of death, or on the other side of the world? We trust that inside of the Son, it can be so.

As for us, we refuse to say goodbye. We'll say, "see you later" instead.

Pomp and circumstance at graduation 2005. . . . 

Zoe and best friend "Wisabella" (Isabella) share a giggle! 

So this is what you do with that piece of paper. . . . 

Zoe poses. . . 

The Preschool Graduating Class of 2005! 

Potato Face, Horse Face Zoe (her favorite self-made "knock knock" joke) 

Lily poses (one of 5 million) 

Sisters on vacation in 2004 

Jacob Peter, Jenni Hope, and Suzie Q! 

Mama J and Jenni 

Fam Christmas Pic! 

Brothers and Sister at Adeline's Baptism in January 

Girls Just Wanna Have Fun! 

Another favorite youth pic from WhiteWater. This was a great trip you guys! 

Who IS that guy?! (the promo picture for my concert flyers) 

One picture for all the memories of WhiteWater. We love you guys! 

The Ladies are sad its over. . . . 

This is deeelightful tea! 

Miss Lily's 5th Birthday TeaParty 

A Wedding, A Farewell, and a Party!

What a weekend! We helped sister Karalyn get married to Danny Walker on Saturday, did a HUGE farewell party at Trinity, planned and led our next to last WhiteWater Youth Event, and planned and set up a surprise party for brother Kris and sister-in-law Sara for completing their Seminary training and Masters in Youth Development--all this in one weekend!

HIGHLIGHTS FROM THE WEDDING:

Flower shopping with Karalyn who arranged all her flowers for her wedding. Kara is a florist par excellence and has the "in" with the flower wholesellers, and it was a treat for her brothers and father to tag along and watch her in action. She used the the whole refrigerated unit (size of small house) as her palette, and picked and chose quickly with a clear eye on everything. Dad said something like, "Wow, I just got introduced to a whole new culture!" And anyone who knows Dad knows that made his day:)

Watching Karalyn walk down the aisle glowing and shining and putting her flower arrangements to shame (they were good Kara, but not as beautiful as you!).

Watching Dad get misty-eyed as he walked her down. Yay Dad! You never cry, so that was quite the sight. Good for you.

Visiting with the Great Grandmothers and watching them dandle the little ones on their knee.

Seeing Darren and Phil make it to the wedding with a few hours to spare, driving all night from Montana.

A short but amazing visit with Aunt Irene who has the gift of sitting with people who are dying and being the presence of God to them. I'm so glad to see God showing up in your life in his powerful and unique way!

Listening to G.G. Almeda tell about walking 2 miles to school with a lunch bucket and a jug of water (in South-Eastern Montana) when she was five. Reading the school dictionary when she was bored and memorizing the times-tables on the board--to this day Great Grandma does all her math in her head. No calculators for her!

Watching Karalyn's face and knowing that Dan will do good by her.

Listening to G.G. Almeda tell me that she remembers that Mom and Dad left with me for Africa the very first time back on July 5th, 1973--and now we're preparing to fly out on the same date, July 5th. Could it get any more weird. For one thing I had no idea. I was a baby, and can't remember dates anyway. And can you believe Grandma still remembers a date from 1973? (insert sounds of awe here)

HIGHLIGHTS FROM THE FAREWELL AT TRINITY:

Little Brian Shrode telling me in front of the whole congregation how much I meant to him.

Cards and speeches filled with deeply-thought words of encouragement and prayers.

An incredible powerpoint slide show of our years at Trinity.

Leading the Body of Christ in singing "Spirit" on the day of Pentecost, and getting to hear the choir sing "Nyame Odoh"--a Ghanaian song I introduced to them a couple of years ago.

Holding my wife's hand as she cried, and realizing how thankful I am that my best friend and partner in adventure is so soft with love and able to let her feelings out.

Smiles, hugs, well-wishes, and more hugs and tears.

Having Mel Buscher come up to me and say, "you're not just grafted into the vine. (he was referring to the sermon) You're more like a potted plant, moving where you're sent. Getting picked up and taken where He wants you." I thought maybe he knew my history, but no. . . . it was the Spirit speaking through him (many do not know that my friends, roomates in college, and partners in pranksterness were known collectively as "the potted plants.")

HIGHLIGHTS FROM KRIS AND SARA'S PARTY:

The look on Sara's face when she walked in to all of us singing "pomp and circumstance" and clapping our hands. Her jaw dropped, and she had to walk away and come back.

Friends coming from all over to celebrate with them.

A quiet night at the end of it all, with good friends taking the time to listen and encourage us in the midst of this tremendous change--thanks Phil and Patti.

There's one word to sum all of this up, and it can be found in Karalyn's middle name: "Joy." Not happiness, although there was plenty of that. But Joy--because in the midst of changes of names, and commitments, and farewells, Joy stands strong, rooted in God's sure Love.

Sisters get ready for Aunt Kari's Wedding 

Unky Kunky and Goddaughter/Niece Adeline "Addie" 

Latest Kunkel News. . . .

Or. . . how I found out the connection between yoghurt, robins, worms, and passports. . . .

Matt scolded me today for not updating our blog latelely, and coincidentally, today's a good day for an update for a variety of reasons:

1. I have 10 minutes of free time!
2. A lot happened today

So. . . . in the last two weeks we have moved from one set of friends to our new digs for the month of May at Phil and Patti's, while nursing nasty colds (Dustin had a sinus infection that needed antibiotic horse pills), and wondering if we were going to be "okayed" for a student entry clearance visa by the British Consulate. Nail biting time.

By the way, when they say that antibiotics kill everything in your system, they're not kidding. My stomach has felt like someone poured draino down it and its slowly working its way out. I hear yoghurt helps.

[A short tangent to say something about/to Paul and Nancy who hosted us for the month of April--what an incredibly gracious, beautiful, and gregarious couple you are! Thank you for being Jesus to us. What a joy to visit with you in the evenings over vermouth and ice cream, a combination I have now grown to like! What a peace we received while living with you.

And God has quite the timing doesn't He? You're preparing to move too, and I think that we were able to listen to one another and do that mutual Body of Christ thing that people talk about but don't often experience.

Besides, you put up with people running through the house like little savages, screaming and playing with things they never should have touched. Not to mention Lily and Zoe. Thanks, Paul and Nancy. You are saints.]

And today, here's what happened:

First, I found out with a call to my retirement people that it takes 5 years for me to be "vested" in the retirement fund (I've worked 4) and so I walk away with nothing--even though I have over $2,000 accrued.

After the call, I sat and looked out my office window. The sun had broken through the Oregon grey and the grass still had hints of dew. Someone had cut it yesterday and there were little hedgerows of clippings in severe lines up and down the church lawn.

A robin landed in front of me, not 10 feet away, and started pulling at something in the grass. A worm the size of a small snake came screaming from the earth and lost his life with a single gulp of the robin's tipped back head. My conversation with God had been going something like this,

"Life sucks."

silence.

"Are You listening? I said that this life, the life You have given me, sucks."

silence.

"ARE YOU LISTENING?!"

And then the robin came along, and I lost myself watching him at what he most certainly found to be the most amazing and fun adventure of his life.

". . . . consider the birds of the air, they do not harvest or reap. . . . yet your Father cares for them. . . ."

Okay, I get it. I'll shut up and be thankful. Money, after all, has little to do with the things that matter.

Then Fed Ex came.

It was from the British Consulate in Los Angeles. No Way!

My experience with bureaucracy is that you turn in some paperwork and then you wait and wait for weeks. Then you call and are put on hold for 30 minutes. Then you hang up because you're disgusted. Then you can't wait any longer and call again. And they route you to so-and-so, the director of insufficient remembrances and idle reoccurences in the department of silly walks--who knows nothing but will get back to you. And then you wait some more.

I had resigned myself to going through just this.

We sent the paperwork off last thursday by express mail. We got it this tuesday.

I looked at the envelope with fear. I hefted it. For the student entry clearance you have to show proof of a place to stay and proof that you can pay for your full education. I had given them a fax from the accomodations people saying we were in line for married student housing, and another fax from the financial aid office saying that my student loan was "in process." Not exactly the hard details they were looking for.

I walked down to Janette's classroom and held it up and grimaced. We stood over the envelope like two animists who have found the lost family idol. I grimaced again, and said a prayer to the Triune God, who seems to have a funny sense of timing, and opened the package.

We received the student entry clearance on all our passports. HUGE!!!

And then, we got an email from our first real contact in Edinburgh today. A friend of a friend who's husband works at the University. A chance to make connections and have someone we know there. And she was very sweet in her email, offering to help in any way she can.

And I haven't even mentioned that our God-daughter, Dawn, got her license today, which is HUGE family news too! Portland drivers, beware.

Hows that for an update?

Dust