At home in Kansas City

Reflecting on the home we've built and the tools we have should we need to do it all over again

I'm writing this from a picnic blanket in Southmoreland Park in Kansas City while my family and I wait for tonight's production of Shakespeare in the Park. In its 34th season, the Heart of America Shakespeare Festival has always been free to the public and has nightly performances for two weeks every summer. The fireflies are coming out to play and the clouds turning their reliable shades of pink in these few minutes before the play begins. I can’t say I’m a Shakespeare fan but I am a local culture fan, and this ticks all those boxes.

We brought our kids last year, not sure what they'd make of Shakespeare but in hope they might enjoy the experience. We brought our picnic blanket and other accouterments to enhance the experience of sitting in near-90 degree heat for four hours (accounting to arrive early to find a good spot). They ended up complaining most of the time (“why didn't we bring chairs!?!?” and “why can't we buy popcorn!?!?”), but overall it seemed a net positive, even if by a small margin. We tried something new.

A month or so ago, we drove past this park and my son saw the stage being built. “MOM! Remember that play last year??? Can we go again, please??” Imagine my delight when I realized we may have stumbled on a new family tradition.

This time we brought chairs along with our blanket, plus popcorn (and Nutella and Poppi and Boursin and… a rubber snake). I'm writing as the kids watch the “Shakespeare parody” mini performance before the main event.

I'm just so pleased to look around this park as it fills in, knowing a beloved museum is just behind me, a favorite coffee shop is half a mile the other direction, and my own home is just a few miles north. I bumped into a gentleman who lives in the senior community where I work, and I was recognized by a parishioner at a church where I’m doing my transitional deaconate placement.

August will mark the fifth anniversary of our move to Kansas City. It's no secret that I moved her under duress, going as far as to call it my Nineveh (I am nothing if not melodramatic). I mourned the loss of the life our family had built in England along with all its own traditions we formed as we became a family there. I struggled to imagine how I would rebuild them in a place I dreaded to be.

And yet… God's grace and provision have offered shade and comfort even when I wanted to cross my arms and pout despite a good life unfolding in unexpected places.

Yesterday, my son and I joined friends at the World Cup Fan Fest, and he was sad this morning when he realized we wouldn't see them again today.

On Friday we went to a watch party to cheer on our own local women's soccer team - a surprising and joyful addition to this, our own version of this American life.

When we first moved back stateside, I used my Substack to write about a theology of home to help me expand my definition of what makes a good one because I was coming up empty when using confined definitions. Now, I could give several other examples from every day in the last week that are evidence of a deep sense of homefulness that we've built a bit at a time, our structure comprised of stones from our church, workplaces, schools, neighbors, and found friends. Tonight, Shakespeare in the Park made the list.

I’m thinking of how the Israelites built altars in the desert every time they encountered God, and I consider this night — these kinds of small traditions — to be a stone not only in my home but in my life as a witness to God’s presence here. This is a good thing to do at any time, but it feels especially important now as we may have another transition in our family's near future. The university where my husband is employed has said they will not renew his contract after this coming academic year. They are now requiring any ministry/theology faculty be ordained in the Church of the Nazarene - a nonstarter for us for many reasons but primarily because he is not called to ordination! But I digress.

As you can imagine, there are not many places hiring a broadly-Wesleyan systematic theologian, much less in Kansas City. We're prayerfully submitting job applications whenever and wherever they rarely become available with the awareness this may result in another relocation for our family. My initial reaction was to cross my arms and pout again. But with prayerful discernment, an expanding imagination, and the wise counsel of my Bishop, I'm softening my stance so that my arms and hands are timidly open.

I'm also reminding myself that God's provision has gone before us in every life transition before this one and that we have our own experiential evidence that we have been able to build a beautiful home wherever we land. By God’s grace, we have all we need within us should we need to do it again.

---

I did write this in time for my weekly commitment but forgot to post it… 9 weeks until I hit the year mark!