Molded to Serve

Victoria did a simple thing yesterday by preparing a meal and giving it to another in need. She had been thinking about this person off and on for several months now and thought this might provide a long overdue break. After preparing it, with the “aid” of Poppy, the girls drove over and dropped the packaged dinner off. Poppy was pretty excited about this, and Victoria said it just felt good to do something unsuspecting for someone else, especially when we Kruggel’s are naturally prone to be isolationists. In fact, Victoria and I were just bemoaning our past parenting practices with Austin, Annie and Barret by reflecting upon our poor modeling of self-sacrifice and service to others. We both wholeheartedly agree that hospitality is not one of our gifts, and we’re ashamed that we’ve freely welcomed so few into our home. If there’s one area of parenting we want to do differently this time around with Poppy and Willow, it’s to demonstrate true love by giving ourselves away, especially when we don’t feel like it.

This got me wondering why it is that our hearts are full when we pour them out. It doesn’t really matter whether someone believes in the truths of Jesus as we do, or if they’re complete atheists or agnostics; people are naturally inclined to feel a sense of purpose when they’re helping others in need. If that were not the case, then relief to those in Sichuan, China after the devastating earthquake last year, the aid to those afflicted from the Tsunami in Thailand four years ago, and the heroic life threatening feats to save those trapped in the New York City Twin Towers on 9-11 would have never occurred. This is because we’re crafted and molded by our Creator to do so. We’re image-bearers of God, and this is what we’re designed to be and do, just like Him. But the allures of this world distract us, especially during our greatest moments of comfort, and also deceive us into believing that we’re created for preservation and not surrender. This is why I am most uncomfortable when I’m comfortable. (Austin said the same thing to me during our time together over the Holidays, expressing concern that his new job, settling in and cruising along might give him a false sense of security. He said, “That scares me, Dad.” I replied without hesitation, “It should, son.”)

So, Victoria and I are at a place in our lives right now where we have to ask, “What more can we do?” One thing’s for sure, it’s not kicking back and soaking in all this life has to offer. There’s not much there, really. And without sounding self-serving, because when we do die to self there’s no denying a euphoric state of purpose, we want the remainder of our limited years here on this foreign ground to contribute toward building a Kingdom that we’re privileged to be citizens of. Our adoption into this community came at a great price, a river of blood. And we have fallen far short of shedding the sustenance of life; “You have not resisted to the point of shedding blood in your striving…” (Hebrews 12:4).

Living to die,

Tom (& Victoria)