Blue Washcloth/White Washcloth

What is it about wanting whatever the other person has even though what you have is precisely the same but for maybe one minor variation? We want what we cannot have, only to find out that when we get what we want it wasn't all it was cracked up to be. The greatest satisfaction comes from merely having it, knowing that the other person does not. That's ugly.

The other evening I was giving the girls their routine tubby and decided to momentarily step out of the bathroom to grab something. No sooner had I left the room when I heard the girls screaming in unquestionable frustration. I hurried back into the bathroom to find them bickering over a washcloth. Poppy had a blue one and Willow had a white one; but Poppy wanted the white one even though they were both the same size, shape, age, softness, etc... Willow seemed to have a glean in her eye as she peered over at Poppy knowing she had something Poppy wanted. (I don't remember getting that worked up over washcloths when I was their age, although I do remember taking joy in having something my siblings wanted.) Rather than try to reason with the girls I quickly opened the cupboard drawer and found another identical white washcloth to the one Willow had. I then handed it to Poppy. All was now well in the world as they both possessed a piece of white, wet fabric they could hold up to their bodies. I then made them put the washcloths down, look at each other, tell one another they were sorry for getting angry, hug and then kiss. Seeing those two little naked bodies hold one another and whisper into each other's ears was a pretty sweet sight.

Victoria and I are trying to teach the girls what's ours is yours and what's yours is ours. It's hard when Poppy thinks that almost everything is hers, even when it was originally given to Willow. The easy thing to do is just buy two of everything. For example they both each have a little red tricycle, but one has a basket on it and the other doesn't. Of course, guess which one they both want? One thing that's impossible to buy two of is mommies and daddies, especially mommies. There's a real nasty "jealous bug" (that's what we call it in our household) that comes out of its cocoon every time one of the girls receives attention from Momma and the other doesn't. It's especially active in the early morning right after everyone wakes up from a long night's sleep and wants a snuggle. I don't know how Victoria does it, but she manages to spread herself in ways that eventually satisfies both girls.

Lot's of patience, lots of discipline, lots of forbearance, lots of training, and lots of love go a long way. The hard part is that it takes so stinking long to get there. That's where vision comes into play. If we cannot keep our eye on the long of the short of it, we're doomed. The immediacy of the here and now is not where the reward lies (although sometimes it peaks its head up every once in awhile for us to see).

Quite frankly, I'm with Poppy and prefer the white washcloth too because when I look at it and see how dirty it is, it's a reminder just how deep the stains are and just how much of the filth has been removed.

Scrubbing Away,

Tom (& Victoria)

"I Wish I Were A Grown Up"

My dear little Poppy-Seed:

Last night we had such a wonderful time together as a family (you, me, Mom, Barret, Annie, Willow, Brian, and eventually Kristen). We went for a summer-evening swim, strolled back through the neighborhood with your little sister facing you in your red wagon under tow by your Dad, barbecued some incredible Mediterranean shish-kabobs, listened to Greek music over the stereo speakers pumped into our backyard, ate an incredible meal together, laughed, enjoyed a gourmet dessert, sat around the fire-pit and talked, and then called it a night. As I laid in bed next to you gazing into your forlorn face because you couldn't stay up with us any longer, you said to me, "Dad, I wish I were a grown up."

I know how you feel, Sweetie, and I used to feel the same way when I was a child. Seems like adults get to do all the fun stuff; stay up late, go to college, get married, play sports, drive cars, eat and drink whatever they want, use big words, laugh about things that don't make sense, and tell little children what to do. There were so many things I wanted to say to you last night in response to your statement, but it was too late in the evening (way past your bed-time), and as smart as you are I'm afraid you wouldn't completely understand it all. So let me just write a few things to you that I would have said under different circumstances. Maybe you'll read this one day and then appreciate what it means to be young and old, and all the in between.

"Be careful what you wish for:

• To be a child and have faith like a child are highly esteemed in God's economy. There are some aspects of being a child I hope you never rid yourself of, even into your oldest of age.
  
• To be a child and receive care like a child are highly esteemed in most any economy. There will never be another time in your life on this earth where you need not concern yourself with food, clothing, warmth, covering, and most of all whether there's anyone on this planet that truly loves you.
• To be a child and possess naivety like a child are highly esteemed in your Mom's and my economy. For now, you're sheltered from much of the evil in this world and your innocence is virgin. There will come a day all too soon when that starts to get chipped away.

• To be an adult and think like an adult is highly esteemed in an adult's economy. But with that comes all the complexities of unanswerable questions and pondering. Ultimately, you must fall on your face and cry out to God who has all of the answers, but may not choose to let you in on all of His secrets until you meet Him face to face.
• To be an adult and work like an adult is very fulfilling..., fulfilling indeed, especially because that's the way God created us to live and is, therefore, also highly esteemed in His economy. However, danger is right around the corner when you live to work thinking that in working and then accumulating, fulfillment has achieved its end. The end is in Jesus.
• To be an adult and know the ways of the world like an adult create knowledge, and hopefully wisdom, and are highly esteemed in the world's economy. But with that runs the risk of discouragement if you embrace the world as your home. Start getting truly homesick early in life; it will help you cling to that which will never let you go."
  

There's more my little Pop-Tart, my Yao Qiao-girl. Let's save those, and even these, for a day later in life when we can go for a long walk with your mother in a secluded place and search the things of God together.

I love you,

Daddy

What We Need vs. What We Want

One of the greatest fears I have as a father, and I know that Victoria shares in this fear as a mother, is whether I'll be able to give all of my children what they need of me. That's different that what they want of me. If I go to my grave thinking that any of my children needed more than I gave, then I think I'll go as a sorrowful man, but for the eternal life I have in Jesus. The demands of life, the pressures of work, the routines of the ordinary, and the needs of each individual family member (not to mention the needs of extended family, work associates, etc...) pull on a father (and a mother) to such a degree that there's almost always cognitive dissonance. I don't want my children resenting the passions that drive my desire to love and serve Jesus, and yet at the same time I want them to see that sacrifice is required of all, including them and me. These diametrically opposed drives constantly pull at my psyche, sometimes to the point where I almost feel sick to my stomach. It's not constant, nor is it really that often, but lately I've gone through one of those seasons and I find myself praying more, preaching to myself more, and trying more to be a father to all of my children in the ways that they need me most. Of course, being a good husband to Victoria is an even stronger pull for me, so that dynamic also comes into play here. None of this is a bad thing.

I guess where I'm going with all of this right now is that I need to come to grips with the truth of leaving and cleaving (for Austin and Meagan, of course), and with the truth that for me to live is for me to die. My life in Jesus and the pursuit of my relationship with Him comes at an earthly cost, and I want my children to see, know and experience that losing this life for the sake of life eternal brings greater joy than all the riches, fame, and family this life could offer. For me, I'm finding that it's costing me more and more all the time. I find myself looking back over my shoulder after plowing the field, and then in that process creating crooked lines that are not becoming of a good steward. The focal point of my vision has got to remain fixed on Jesus, and in that pursuit I pray my children will have the same vision.

This world is a crazy place, especially in America. I have too many distractions; material things, Blackberries, vacations, retirement, etc... They're all becoming very distasteful to me as I see that I've taken the lure and it's reeled me in. None of this is bad, per se, but I've pursued them at the expense of a higher pursuit for Jesus. I want nothing more than to let these things go in my heart. I may enjoy them, but I may not elevate them over Jesus. I'm having to let go of a lot of things these days; this is healthy.

It's hard crucifying your old passions, but the joy that comes with it is immea- surable. May my children know and love that which is much greater than anything I could possibly give them. If they had that, I'd go to my grave a happy and fulfilled man.

Letting Go In Christ,

Tom (& Victoria)

Is the Glass Half Empty or Full?

I'm one that is usually a little more naturally inclined to look at the dark side of things rather than the bright side, the bad over the good, the "glass-is-half-empty" phenom- enon over the "glass-is-half full" phenomenon. It's one of those things, among so many, that I really don't like about myself. I have friends and family in my life that help balance me out and push me to see the opposite paradigm. Thank God for them.

When it comes to mankind, I hear and read about so much wickedness in the world. Everywhere I turn it haunts me like a frightening ghost. I don't fully understand it all, and must fall to my knees and cry out to God who is infinitely wise. He alone is all knowing, and He alone can supply peace in the midst of the confusing, the abstract and the unknown.

Poppy and Willow helped me see the good side of things just the other day, which gave me a slight glimpse into the nature of God. Victoria and Kristen (Meagan's sister living with us for the summer) went to a women's Bible study the other evening. As they left the house to go to the hosting home, Poppy became so morose. Her love for and attachment to her mother is so overwhelmingly strong that it's almost impossible to describe. It's something that has to be witnessed. So I decided that in order to cheer her up I'd take the girls for a long walk up the hillside to watch the sunset. It was a beautiful evening and God's glory was out in radiant display. We talked off and on about God's artistry, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't get Poppy to stop thinking and talking about Victoria. About every five to ten minutes or so she'd get those pitiful alligator tears streaming down her rosy, plump cheeks. I attempted with all my heartfelt emotion to encourage her that Momma would be home soon, but that didn't seem to comfort her. She said to me on a couple of occasions, "Daddy, I just can't help the tears. They keep on coming no matter how hard I try to stop." This almost brought me to tears too, so I sat on the ground, held her in my lap with her special pink "blankie", and just rocked her. She seemed to settle down a bit. In the midst of all the commotion Willow just kept looking at Poppy and then looking over at me and saying, "Wheelo haaappie".

Poppy's love for her Momma is a naturally good thing. Where did that come from? It's designed and created within her. Willow's desire to smooth things out so others are not sorrowful is a good thing. Where did that come from? It's designed and created within her. At their age they didn't connive and craft a manipulating scheme to get my attention or to foster peace. I'm well aware of their natural tendency to transgress, but experiencing this encounter with them on Wednesday night prompted me to thank God for His perfectly orchestrated image found in every human being. While that goodness is never enough to put us in perfect stead with God (cf. Romans 3:10-18), it is enough to reflect His glory.

In spite of the sadness of the evening, it was satisfying to see the magnificence of God's design in the midst of it all. These girls continue to push all of us older Kruggel's to places we use to enjoy but lost before Poppy and Willow were found. Momma eventually came home and all was well once again in the Poppy-fields.

Seeing the Glass Half-Full,

Tom (& Victoria)

30 Years Later

Thirty years ago this very summer I walked toward a wood paneled cabin built on stilts in the Redwood and Ponderosa Pines of Mount Hermon and was enraptured by a beautiful young lady standing on the porch. She introduced herself to me as Vicki Tholen from Seattle, Washington. And that was the genesis of a formation designed by God that has grown into our own Redwood version of a strong, towering tree providing nourishment and shelter not only to one another, but to all those seedlings He's placed in our care.

Last night we returned from a week long family camp at Mount Hermon that was now our seventeenth consecutive year of vacationing there. Victoria and I can easily keep count because she was pregnant with Barret that first summer we drove up from Redondo Beach, California to enjoy the nostalgia of our courtship. Austin, Annie and Barret all have such fond memories of summer vacations at Mount Hermon, always begging and pleading to return as we drove out of the driveway to head back home each time we spent a refreshing week there. And now Poppy has been there three summers in row, and Willow twice. They, too, are developing strong bonds and attachments to this place we like to think of as hallowed ground. In fact, Poppy remarked as we were driving down the hill out of the camp, "I'm sad to leave Mount Hermon." We all know how she feels.

It was an exceptional week for Victoria, Barret, Poppy, Willow and me. It did seem a little incomplete and odd in a strange way not to have Austin (& Meagan) and Annie there. (Both Austin and Annie have worked there in recent summer's past.) The teaching was awesome, the food abundant, warm and tasty, and the weather breathtakingly perfect. There's so much to write about and tell that it simply cannot be captured here.

I will share one tender moment (among o' so many) I had with Poppy while I was trying to put her to bed one evening early in the week. The girls were pretty wound up about being at Mount Hermon, so getting them to sleep those first few nights wasn't a simple task. As I laid there on the bed with Poppy and the dusk light was just about to vanish, she softly said to me, "Daddy, I don't like the dark-time; it makes me sad." "What about it makes you so sad, Sweetie?", I asked. "It's just that everything has to come to an end", said Poppy. I had to stop and think for a moment because I knew this was a tender teaching time that would have either been lost forever or seized upon to impart what little wisdom I possessed. So I said to her, "Sweetie, it's not the end, it's actually the beginning. And just think, God can speak to you all night and give you enough rest so that tomorrow is even more exciting than today."

She seemed to be comforted by that, but her momentary sorrow did get me to start thinking. Because I know Poppy, I happen to also know that she's a bit afraid of the dark, which contributed to her hesitation to close her eyes and fall asleep that night in a new and strange surrounding. I know how she feels (most of us were probably afraid of the dark when we were little). Darkness is nothingness. We all went on a train ride this week into Santa Cruz (departed from Mount Hermon) and we eventually ended up in a tunnel that was several hundred meters long. By the time we got to the middle of the tunnel you could not see the entrance or the exit, so it was pitch black. There was no perspective or sense of dimension whatsoever. What is that? It's nothingness. It's alone-ness. That's a scary place to be. Knowing that we'd eventually get to the other side and greeted by towering Redwoods gave comfort. But what if we were trapped in that tunnel for awhile? What if we were trapped in darkness for a lifetime, or an eternity?

Poppy (or Willow) doesn't need to be alone, left in the dark. None of us do. Jesus said, "I am the light of the world; he who follows me shall not walk in the darkness, but shall have the light of life." (John 8:12b) Because we've been shown the light which brightens our paths, we can now follow with the light of life. And once we possess that light of life, we become light ourselves because Jesus said that, "You are the light of the world." (Matthew 5:14a) And there's nothing Victoria and I want more than for our children to have the light of life. This I would have loved to have shared with Poppy that evening, but couldn't think that quickly. I hope to have it on the tip of my tongue the next time she expresses her sorrow over the darkening of the night.

Refreshed in Jesus,

Tom (& Victoria)

Another Great Article

How often do we as Christian parents consider that our work, our labor and our love of child-rearing is Kindgom-work? Parenting is the typical course of life for many (although not all), but most parents (like me) are often swallowed up by the routine necessities of survival, so it's difficult to contemplate the longer-term vision and purpose of why we do what we do. But those routine necessities are gospel-izing privileges to train up our children that they too might draw more into the Kingdom, and even perhaps pursue a life calling that would reap a crop of 100's, 1,000's and maybe even 10,000's for Jesus' sake and God's glory. It's critical that I frequently step back and examine the eternal purpose of what we do as parents, and I remind Victoria (and she reminds me) that it's a good work, honorable and pleasing to the Father. This article (click on link below) is a good read about this very subject matter.

http://www.seriouslifemagazine.com/default.asp?index=6

What I appreciated most about this article is not just the helpful touchstone that what I/we do as parents is eternal, but also that we can use our home as a training ground for missional work both locally and abroad. It's helped me re-think how we as a family spend our time, money and gifts.

"The harvest is plentiful, but the workers are few. Ask the Lord of the harvest, therefore, to send out workers in His harvest field." (Matthew 9:37b-38)

Warmly in Christ,

Tom