Precious Proposal

It was a crystal clear evening with stars in full array amidst the frigid, pure air at about 6:30 when we arrived at the Box "R" Ranch with our good friends, the Denny's. After unpacking our belongings and settling in we sat around a roaring fire in our log cabin, looked at each another and just sort of sighed an "augh" of contentment under our breath. All of us were pretty pooped after a full day of travel, so we laid our heads on our pillows long before Austin, Annie, Meagan and Luke arrived from Southern California. Victoria was finally able to peacefully rest once all of her chicks were in the nest after Annie came into our room and gave us a sweet greeting around 2:30 a.m. Our nieces, Meghan and Caitlin were scheduled to arrive on Thanksgiving morning.

The next day we awoke to an incredible sunrise, stunning view of the natural meadow to the west, and a cool cabin in much need of another fire in the fireplace. This was pretty much how we started each day during our holiday break; each day except Thanksgiving Day. The evening before we began our traditional 18 hour process of smoking a turkey that requires a constant vigil of stoking coals and hickory chips into the smoker to maintain low, but stable heat and curing. Only the men are required to watch 90 minute shifts, sometimes in the wee hours of the morning, allowing the women to sleep knowing that the bulk of cooking other tasty delicacies requires enormous stamina throughout the day. We've been doing this for about seven years now and have yet to overcook a bird or be disappointed with its flavor and moistness. This year was no different.

However, something

was quite different about this Thanksgiving morning because under the crosses on the other side of Inspiration Point (one of my favorite places on earth) our eldest son, Austin, contemplated Jesus' sacrifice for us and His marriage to His bride, the church, by also kneeling and proposing marriage to his bride-to-be, the love of his life, Meagan Kirkpatrick. Joyfully and tearfully they embraced and became fiance and fiancee. Austin slipped a ring on her finger, all caught on photography by his sister, Annie, who was strategically located at a distance in the cleft of a rock overlooking the crosses. When they arrived back at the cabin we all celebrated with a little Martinelli's, a toast and some hugs and kisses. Clearly one of the happiest days of either one of their lives, and also one of ours.

And so, this Kruggel family continues to grow and expand, this time not by adoption, but nonetheless by grace.

Our best Thanksgiving ever,

Tom (& Victoria)

Turkey Time!

Tomorrow we load up as much stuff as we can into our Honda Pilot and our Thule roof-rack compartment, including the two little munchkins and Barret (in the car and not the roof-rack, of course), and journey north to Oregon for our traditional Thanksgiving gathering at the Box "R" Ranch. We'll caravan with our good friends from church, the Denny's (some of the nicest people God's created, all six of them). We should get up there at about 6:00 or 7:00 p.m., if all goes well. Austin (and Austin's Meagan) and Annie will hook up with us, together with our good friend-from-Seattle's son, Luke Larson (now studying at BIOLA), sometime around around 2:00 a.m. or so. (Poor souls, they have about a 10 to 11 hour drive compared to our 6 hour one.) My sweet nieces from Portland, Oregon (Caitlin & Meghan Tholen - Victoria's side of the family) will arrive on Thanksgiving morning.

The Box "R" Ranch comes complete with virtual isolation from any civilization as we commonly know it; 1,500 acres of virgin and pristine land covered with loge pines set against the backdrop of the Siskiyou Mountains and the snow capped Shasta peak, a couple of log cabins (constructed from timber felled on the Ranch) with river rock fireplaces, cattle (some of whom we branded last year), draw horses, goats, chickens (who's eggs we eat for breakfast after robbing their coups the day before), dozens of wild cats and kittens (where our own little Carmel came from), and some of the most hallowed ground I've encountered. It's here where I contemplate the Lord like no other place on earth. My favorite spot is across a craggy gorge carved by a shallow stream where I can view three crosses reminiscent of Calvary; the rolling eastern hills serve as their backdrop. And it's there that I usually meditate and ruminate on Psalm 19, and consider that the heavens declare the majesty of the Lord. If I've ever come close to actually hearing from God, this is where it happens.

Most importantly, these remarkably tender moments with family and friends build layer upon layer of solid memories, traditions and intimacy that simply cannot be duplicated most anywhere else. This is the kind of experience that stays with you for a whole year until you do it again, and on the way out of the driveway from the Ranch everyone asking, begging, and even demanding that we simply have to come back next year. Lord willing, we will.

Thankfully Thankful,

Tom (& Victoria)

"My Head Can't Stop Thinking About Mommy."

"Dad, my head can't stop thinking about Mommy." This is what Poppy said to me this morning as I held her in my arms with her head tucked into my shoulder, peering out the window behind me. I rarely get these opportunities, so it's a real treat, although I'm not so sure the girls feel the same way. There's just something about a mom, especially Victoria as far as I'm concerned, that a dad like me simply cannot adequately suffice. So what is that she does that seems to endear them to her with a bond that's so inseparable? Is it the way that she combs their hair and perfectly places those bows in just the right spot? Is it the way she holds them tenderly close and snuggles them so dearly in the morning? Is it the way that she prepares such tasty home-cooked foods at every meal and occasion? Is it the way she picks the perfect outfits for each and every day, sometimes matching between the two of them, but always color coordinated and stylish? Is it the way she sings to them at night with a soft lullaby that's comforting and soothing? Or is it just the way that her presence provides a sense of calm, peace and security? I suppose it's all of these things and more, but maybe it's much less what she does and more just who she is. When I first met Victoria almost 30 years ago, I knew I had met the sweetest person in the world. Up until that time, no one could rival my mom. So, I suspect that the same spirit that attracted me to Victoria, and also provided me comfort from my mother, is the same spirit that connects these girls to their mom. And a spirit of that kind simply cannot be fabricated in me, no matter how hard I try.

This evening when I was getting the girls to bed after giving them their tubby, I noticed Poppy putting Victoria's shoes away that were lying on our bedroom floor. I asked her why she was doing that and she said, "Because I don't want to look at those shoes. They remind me too much of Mommy and I miss her." Anticipating that's what she might say, I said, "I'm glad you put them away Poppy, because I can't stop thinking about her either."

Can't stop thinking about Victoria,

Tom

P.S. - Willow captured sight of another crescent moom today.  What a thrill!

"Moom, Moom!"

One of the first English words that Willow learned was "Momma". But that's not really fair because it's virtually the same pronunciation in Chinese. So the next English word she learned was "DaDa" (in China it's "BaBa"), but Willow always said (and still does say) "GaGa", or sometimes "GwaGwa". Not too long after that she started to pick up lots of other words, but her speech annunciation has always been a bit challenged to state the least. While she really seems to enjoy picking up new words, there are few that rival the enthusiasm and excitement around the word "moon". 

One evening at dusk while I was returning from a walk with Willow the moon was rising in the East; full, brilliant and radiant. I pointed to it and said to Willow, "Moon". She responded softly, almost in a whisper, "Moom". I said, "No Willow, it's 'moonnnn'". She replied, "Moom". I decided that was close enough, so I said to her, "Good, Willow". Each subsequent time she saw the moon thereafter her volume level, while also pointing to it with her dark skinned and slightly curved finger, seemed to increase by at least one decibel. Now, whenever she sees the moon, whether in the day, at night, or even in one of her favorite books, "Goodnight Moon", she forcefully yells, "Moom, Moom!"

Can't wait for the next moom,

Tom

Pouting Poppies

Victoria recently caught a shot of Poppy in one of her not-so-bright moments. As sweet as Poppy can be, she can also have her wilting spirit cast a dark cloud of despair all around. We usually sternly counsel her on these occasions while at the same time murmuring tones of silent laughter under our breath because she's so deliberate with her affect and revealing of her desired outcome. Yes, this colorful flower that brings such vibrant sunshine into all of our lives can pout up a blithering balm that makes everyone step back in wonder at the swift change of seasons. The good news is that the weather only remains inclement for short periods of time, and before you know it the sun is shining again and the flowers are blooming all around. I guess we need the wind and the rain to appreciate the warmth and the glow of spring flowers.

Enjoying all seasons,

Tom (& Victoria)

The Wu Wei Whine Is Whoa, Way Wrong

There's no attachment disorder with this little girl.  She's one hundred percent, bonafide connected to her Momma at the hip. This petite independent ball of whopping wiggle Willow just cannot get enough of Victoria. We've never been concerned about her affections toward any of us, but of late any remote concerns that we might have had are completely erased. When she used to get up in the morning she'd roam and play independently around the house, and now she's immediately calling out and looking for her Momma from the moment her eyelids open up (and her internal alarm clock religiously rings at 5:30 a.m.). When she used to let Victoria make breakfast without anyone hanging on her legs, Willow's now the monkey that just won't let go. When Victoria used to leave the house for a few hours to recharge her batteries Willow would hardly fuss about her absence, but now she's calling for her Mom almost instantaneously when Victoria shuts the door on her way out. When she was so relaxed allowing Poppy to sit in her Momma's lap while Willow mindlessly played round and about, she's now furiously jealous and just must squeeze her way into Victoria's arms no matter how full they are with Poppy. And instead of those horrifying moments of silence around the house wondering what kind of mischief Willow was getting into, she's now the one screaming out "Mooooommmm, Moooooommmm" looking for Momma when the silence is too deafening even for her. 

These are all good things, and we're grateful that such strong bonds of love are so lavishly poured out. We wouldn't want it any other way. But along with those exuberant expressions of emotion come the exacerbation of what we knew and know of her Wu Wei Whine; that high pitched, monotone drone of a cry that at first sounds cute, but after awhile can drive you crazy. So when her engines now start to rev up and we can hear that whirling whoop escalate, we calmly let her know that she can go into the "whine room" (our study) where she can listen to herself until she's ready to come out and socialize without the whine. It usually only takes about ninety seconds or so, and before you know it she's shuffling down the hall on the balls of her feet (having opened the door herself), special pink blanket in tow, shoulders hunched forward, the other arm slumped down and her head cocked slightly toward the floor with only a tear or two starting to dry on her face. We ask her to tell us she's sorry (which she does in her cleft-palatese), and then we go on with our day until the next episode, usually only moments later. We're determined to love her through this phase and rid ourselves of this Wu Wei Whine, because it is Whoa, Way Wrong!

Hard to get frustrated in the midst of such adorableness,

Tom (& Victoria)

Jewels of Grace

Sometimes in the race of life we're so busy looking ahead that we fail to look down and around to see the myriad of jewels of grace dropped in and among us. When we do take our eyes off of what we think the future might hold and behold the sparkling glare and beauty of what we're currently surrounded by, then it's difficult to lift our heads again in order to move forward. But, ironically, it's those moments of needful basking that pave the road to the future. 

This weekend was a fast-paced pause that not only blinded my vision, but also flared up memories of days gone past that now seem like but the twinkling of an eye. In the high-speed busyness of work, loving on the kids, shepherding at church, and just being a husband, I disciplined myself (with Victoria's help) to spend seven to eight hours in the car to relish but twenty-four hours with Austin in San Luis Obispo. En route I could hardly imagine how I could find the time, but once there I was soothed by the radiance of yet another jewel of grace dropped right into the palm of my hand. Among the many riches of our time together, the most valuable was our kayak excursion in Avila Bay, just a few miles south of San Luis Obispo. We talked about some of the deeper things of life, only to be gleefully interrupted by the formation flight of Pelicans hovering but inches off the ocean's surface taking advantage of their forced-air lift without ever flapping a wing. We then talked more about the deeper things of life, interrupted yet again by the otters and seals that bobbed their heads amongst the seaweed to ensure they knew just where we were. And then we'd talk again about the deeper things of life, only to be interrupted by the sights and sounds of dolphins, some within ten feet of the bow of the kayak, happily swimming in and around us as if they were taunting us to try to catch them. It became keenly apparent that the deeper things in life not only included the content of what we were talking about, but also context of what we were not talking about.

The combination of God's remarkable grace found in the natural order of His creation and the bond that a father and child have in the midst of it is one of the greatest treasures this life has to offer. And to think that I could miss out on this by running ahead in anticipation of what "just might be" is possibly one of the greatest travesties of life.

Basking in His Bosom,

Tom

Father & Daughter/Father & Son/Sister & Sister

Poppy and I are on road trip to see Austin and Annie this weekend in San Luis Obispo. Victoria, Barret and Willow are staying back so that I can spend some invaluable and memorable one-on-one time with Austin while Poppy spends some invaluable and memorable one-on-one time with Annie. Austin and I have been talking about doing this for a few weeks now, so I took today off, hopped into the car about 2:00 p.m. or so, and drove south for three and a half hours with Poppy in the back seat. She sang songs on the way down, we quoted a few Bible verses together and she slept for a couple of hours. Austin has some huge life-changing and life-long decisions ahead of him, so it's our hope to talk, pray, do some more talking and praying, and then do some more of the same. We're here at Austin's home now where six other college students live. I'll sleep on the floor, while Poppy will sleep with her big sister in her twin sized bed at Annie's house; that should be cozy.

I'll report back later with more details about our visit, but for now we're content just to be here and bask in the savory friendship and brotherhood we have in Christ, just father and son. And Annie will do the same with her little Pop-Tart. We'll head home tomorrow just 24 hours after arriving here.  It's going to be a quick one.

Warmly in Christ,

Tom (& Poppy)

The Big Watering Can In The Sky

I have a hard time conceiving of what God is like even though there's a part of Him, but I suspect only a very minuscule part of Him, that's described in the Bible. His traits are immutable, and also both communicable and somewhat in- communicable. But for a child, He is conceivable and communicable sometimes in the simplest and also most profound ways. One of God's incommunicable attributes is His sovereignty, His full and complete control over all things, including the seasons and its weather. Seasons come and seasons go, and this most recent season for us has been barren of rain for consecutive months, reeking havoc for fire fighters. All that changed on Friday, and we've now had numerous much needed showers dumping several inches of precipitation throughout our lands. Of all people, I should know and remember that it is God who causes the seasons to cycle, the wind to blow, and the rain to fall (Zechariah 10:1), but I often take these things for granted and just assume they're natural acts of our atmosphere and ecosystem. For Poppy, she knows there is a God and that He is in control of these things, and can only assume that God harnesses the weather with familiar objects and simple tools. That's why she asked her mother the other day, "Does God stand above the clouds with a big watering can when He causes it to rain?" In a very real sense He does, and in a very real sense that's the way I'd like to think of God when the inexplicable needs explanation.

Out of the mouths of babes.

Tom

Not So Spooky Spooks

Halloween is an odd holiday for us in some ways. As Christians we struggle with what it represents on a broad and deep level, but on a surface level we just cannot resist the temptation to dress our little toddlers up in adorable outfits and roam the streets with them. We love hearing them say "Trick or Treat" with their silly slurs, while also adoring the get-ups of hundreds of other little kids. And the fond memories are ones that remain indelibly etched into their minds, as well as ours.

We have a tradition in our home, probably much like many other Americans, of carving pumpkins the night before Halloween. We usually buy a pumpkin for each person in the family and then have a contest to see who can carve the best one (a very subjective judging process, of course). This year we teamed up and Poppy joined Victoria, and Willow joined me (although she quickly became disinterested after about ten seconds into the carving). Barret had his own pumpkin too. I'm competitive by nature and always like to think that I have the best one year in and year out. Of course no one likes a show-off and I've been automatically disqualified to ever win this competition, being accused of exhibiting large amounts of distasteful hubris. I have to admit that it's pretty disgusting, although I do play it up a bit just to get the goads of the rest of the family members. In my mind I won again this year, but everyone else felt otherwise. Poppy and Victoria carved a cute little face that included a beauty mark reminiscent of Annie's (we really missed her and Austin this year as they almost always partake in the festivities). Deep down I have to admit that theirs was pretty dang sweet.

Trick or treating last night did not disappoint, even though it was a bit damp. We managed to squeeze in our candy gathering right in between rain showers, so we remained dry the whole night. In fact, Poppy's bunny rabbit outfit ended up being a tad too warm at times.  Willow was a lady-bug, a Chinese symbol of good luck. The girls scored with plenty of candy, only to be secretly snarfed by Mom, Dad and Barret without them looking. It won't be long before they're on to us and our hidden thievery, so we're taking advantage of it while we can.

It's now unbelievably November 1st, and we've got our sights on Thanksgiving in Oregon. In spite of the gloomy and horrifying news we're surrounded by, we pinch ourselves everyday and can't believe we're the recipients of such enormous amounts of grace, even the grace of possible "hardship" (whatever that looks like).

Thankfully,

Tom (& Victoria)

Halloween on Lincoln Street!

Here are a few silly pictures from last night! My roommates and I hosted a fun little halloween party at our humble abode : ) SO...here...y'all can get a little taste of the festivities that took place down here in SLO town! 

Love, 

Annie