Father's Day

I love Father's Day. I love it because it reminds me that there's good purpose, good fruit in living out a common, behind-the-scenes life that propagates God's perfect design. Fatherhood is noble work that's somewhat relegated as of lesser importance in the scheme of our American culture. Manhood and success are often measured in so many other ways that require quick returns and immediate satisfaction. Being a parent necessitates stamina, long-suffering, patience, vision and tenacity, not to mention immeasurable amounts of love while expecting nothing in return. Sometimes however, in fact oftentimes, the returns are abundant, and they seem to rise to the top on Father's Day. These are things I had the privilege of reaping that day when I opened the various cards my kids gave to me and read them (from Austin, Meagan, Annie & Barret):

• "... your wisdom, compassion, and gentleness are an example to me...",
• "... you're my faithful friend, hero, and role model."
• "You have... put me and others before yourself."
• "I feel like I'm the luckiest son in the world..."
• "I love you so much..."

Poppy & Willow also wrote some things, but they were illegible. (Pretty cute!)

I suppose one might read this and think it's rather self-inflating. O' to the contrary, it's quite humbling. I write these things because they bring joy to my heart, but also because I want my children to read them, cherish them, and also know that I treasure them in my heart even though I don't often feel any of them in my common routine of life. It's so nice to be reminded from to time that good things are happening. I need to hear and read these things, and my children need to express them.

My Father's Day last week was a sweet, non-eventful gathering of all who could be there, even Kristen (Meagan's sister now living with us for the summer). Calls from Annie and Austin were wonderful gifts and served as second-best to being there in person. I love my kids so much that I felt myself on the verge of tears throughout the day. After hanging up the telephone with Austin in the early afternoon I just couldn't help myself and had to shed a few in the presence of Victoria and Barret. Tears of joy, of course, that led to a cause for thankful prayer to my Father who desires to hear these same expressions of gratitude and praise from me more often than I do. "Thank you, kids, for your kindheartedness and for reminding me of who I am in Christ and what I am to the Father."

I Love You, Kids!

Dad/Tom

Do I Ever Really Sacrifice?

I was recently contemplating the whole concept of "sacrifice" and what it really means. One of the ways that I process things is to just start writing because I feel I can better express the content of my heart in written form over that of verbal. The one person on this earth that knows me best is Victoria, so I decided I'd text (e-mail on Blackberry) this long-winded stream of consciousness about my rumination on sacrifice:

Honey,

I've been thinking a lot lately about sacrifice. What is it and am I experi- encing it? To me (and I should really do some Biblical research on this before I start blabbering like this) it's willingly giving up something of value in exchange or for the benefit of another. Of course, that's what Jesus did when He was crucified on our behalf, and what made His sacrifice so pure (aside from the fact that He was and is perfectly holy) was His motive of love.

So I've had to ask myself, "Am I sacrificing anything in this life as I understand that term to mean?" What I have, what I possess doesn't, and never did, belong to me. I may enjoy the benefits of it, but I have no ownership of it. My life was purchased; I don't belong to myself. Likewise I am also married to you; I belong to you. So I start my reasoning off on the foundation that to give something up one must possess it. And since I don't possess anything, I never really sacrifice in the strictest sense.

However, I have been given stewardship of certain things that bring me great joy, happiness, fulfillment and peace. Those very same things also bring me some sorrow, pain and suffering (although hardly) from time to time. If I give my gifts back to the Giver, am I sacrificing? I don't think so. I'm starting to think that I never sacrifice nor will I ever be asked to sacrifice because I'm returning things to their rightful Owner.

When I think I'm sacrificing I fall into the pit and trap of thinking more of myself than I should, which includes pity parties, self-elevating thoughts and prideful idolatry. That then can also lead to discontent, woeful sadness and discouraged depression. What's lacking when I go there? Love! Love for Jesus and His bride! And yet I have the opportunity to possess and express the very same and powerful love myself because He poured it all out and upon my head. I'm covered in it; it's dripping off my flesh. But I walk around sometimes like it's all a dried up scab. And why do I do that? Because my motive is impure. I want something from my "sacrifice". I want approval, I want attention, I want reward, and I want justification. That's not love, that's loveless.

There are a few things God's given me that I'll never, ever be asked to sacrifice. Among many they include my salvation, my faith, my grace, and I'm beginning to think most-of-all my joy. The first three things I think I have little control over because they'll never be snatched from me. But joy? It gets snatched all the time. And I let it happen because I quickly forget the same things I'm writing and preaching to myself here; that I own nothing and I'm saturated in love.

So why am I writing this stream of consciousness to you? Because I love you so much and no one on earth knows me better than you. I also write these things because I need to process and think, and this helps. But most of all I write because we cannot ask another to sacrifice on behalf the other. That conviction must come from within and for the benefit of the one being sacrificed for, and in our cases it must always be for Jesus. I don't want to carry the burden of putting my mantle on the shoulders of another, especially you and our children. And when we do make sacrifices together (as almost all are since we're one), they should come at the expense of nothing, especially joy, and under the umbrella of love for Jesus.

I'm trying to take up my cross daily and follow after Jesus. It's hard work and sometimes downright painful. But what great love we possess to do such great acts of love for Him. Don't let me wimp out. Don't let me take the easy road. Push me Honey, and I want to push you, but let's do it all for one purpose, and that's out of immeasurable love for Jesus.

(Does any of this make sense?)

God help us.

I love you my love,

Anyway, I don't know if any of this resonates, but I'm convicted to sacrifice and provoked to do more. I'm asking the Lord to increase my joy, and shatter my comfort to see His Kingdom flourish and His name rise in fame.

Pondering in Jesus,

Tom

My Ruby Jewel

Twenty-seven years ago today I wed my bride on a gorgeous, uncharacteristically sunny June-day in Seattle. Victoria's grandmother (now deceased) said on numerous occasions that we were a match made in heaven. Although a common phrase, little did she probably know that it was literally a match made in heaven. Our wedding day was also a masterpiece made in heaven. From the stunning Pacific Northwest evergreens accented against the bluest skies you've ever seen, to the graceful ceremony lit by ornamentation and love, there's no doubt in my mind that it was both divinely appointed and orchestrated.

On the eve of Austin and Meagan's recent wedding, my Dad ushered a toast to them (the first among several) that was testimony to love's stamina and growth over years of commitment. My parents, now married well over 50 years, gave rise to my Dad's remarks that love gets sweeter, deeper and better with age. I often heard these kinds of statements when I was younger and would silently ask myself in the back of my mind, "How can that be?" The failure of so many marriages in our culture would naturally cause me, and many of us I suppose, to ponder with some skepticism these types of blanket proclamations. But now being married for about half as much time as my parents, I can understand the truth behind what he said. It's one of those things that just must be experienced in order to validate the axiom. So here I am, probably with more days behind me than ahead of me (but hopefully with more married days ahead of me than behind me), also giving testimony to love's longstanding mystery. Today, 27 years since I held her hand and placed that ring upon her finger, I find myself more anxious to get home to see her than before, more desirous to speak to her than anyone else before, more sorrowful when I cannot spend the night with her than before, and more excited about our future together than before. So how can that be? Because love is not at all what I grew up thinking it was, and so very far removed from what our culture teaches me it is. Love does, and does loves. It's an unbreakable cycle that becomes even more difficult to penetrate with time. If the circle becomes oblique, then it begins to lose the strength of its bond. Our circle keeps getting larger and larger, but only because of one thing, and that's because we have an example becoming reality that penetrates every fiber of our being.

On one of our recent milestone anniversaries (pre-Willow) I gave Victoria a poem that coincided with a ruby ring I also gave to her. When we got married I wanted her wedding ring to be with a ruby stone instead of the traditional diamond. We went the diamond route, but now she has both on her ring finger. This poetic gesture (I don't think I've posted it before) helped me articulate the continuing passion of my heart and how I look up to her:

My Ruby Jewel

My sweetness, my love,
There's little left in words,
That isn't already known.
I'm utterly speechless,
Without words to express my own.

My worst, my best,
You've seen me through both,
And loved me despite.
I've brought sadness and joy,
From wrong and from what's right.

Through it all you’ve stayed true.
You’ve remained the same and never failed.
You are my rock and ruby jewel.
You are a reflection of my Savior;
I pray to be more like you.

Your laughter, your sorrow,
Each from my strengths,
And turning away.
I've led and shirked back,
Sometimes causing us both to fall astray.

Jobs, houses, cars and things,
I've managed to let them distract me so.
They grab hold of the best;
At times I've chosen good things,
Over what only gives eternal rest.

Through it all you’ve stayed true.
You’ve remained the same and never failed.
You are my rock and ruby jewel.
You are a reflection of my Savior;
I pray to be more like you.

Austin, Annie, Barret and Poppy,
They’re our gift and legacy.
We’ve plowed and we’ve tilled.
Now we reap what we sow,
Yet there’s more to be filled.

Our parents are aging,
And one has gone on.
But we still have some,
To love and serve,
Until we all go to where we’re from.

Through it all you’ll stay true.
You’ll remain the same and never fail.
You are my rock and ruby jewel.
You are a reflection of my Savior;
I pray to be more like you.

One score and a half decade more,
A quarter century together,
Our midpoint in life is past.
And now we look back,
All with joy, and few regrets to cast.

It’s far from over, we’ve only begun,
To explore the depths of life,
And holiness to chase.
Let’s always stand together,
And never lose our inseparable embrace.

Through it all let’s stay true.
Remain the same and never fail.
You are my rock and ruby jewel.
You are a reflection of my Savior;
I pray to be more like you.

“An excellent wife, who can find?
For her worth is far above jewels.
The heart of her husband trusts in her,
And he will have no lack of gain.”
My God has given me her for sure.

Through it all let’s stay true.
Let’s remain the same and never fail.
You are my rock and ruby jewel.
You are a reflection of my Savior;
I pray to be more like you.

Happy Anniversary, Victoria.

I love you,

Tom

The Hole In Our Gospel

Victoria recently directed me to an interview published in "Christianity Today" between one of its staff members and Richard Sterns, current President of World Vision and author of a recent book entitled "The Hole In Our Gospel". I've included a hyperlink to that article here (below). I was initially drawn to the piece because of Mr. Sterns' personal testimony of God snatching him from a 23 year career in the corporate world to a mercy ministry that cares for others living in a world that is completely foreign to affluent America. And while that in and of itself is intriguing, what's even more staggering is that "... 26,000 children under the age of 5 die every day of causes related to their poverty." I hear and read these things from time to time, but they sort of become a number, a statistic if you will (sadly and ashamedly I must confess). Read the interview and you'll see how that statistic (one of Stalin's evil strategies to sensitize his atrocities) comes a little closer to life and home because of the way he characterizes the death of a single soul.

http://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2009/juneweb-only/123.53.0.html?start=1

While I do not think that Jesus' gospel could ever have a hole in it because it's complete and sufficient in and of itself, I do believe that I (we as a Kruggel family) need to and can do more as a loving response of "faith-works" to the indescribable love Jesus has poured out to us. We only have but a little more than a widow's mite, but I'm prayerful that it will multiply into bag of gold, much like the few fishes and loaves that fed the thousands in the presence of Jesus 2,000 years ago.

Prayerfully in Jesus,

Tom (& Victoria)

A Hug Too, Dadda

I have not done this before, but decided to post one of my routine and personal journal entries (I call them "Grains of Grace" ) on this blog because my sweet little daughter Willow said something to me this morning that melted my heart. What she said and did was perfectly germane to my daily Bible reading and reflections thereupon. I copy and paste below:

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"And because you are sons, God has sent forth the Spirit of His Son into your hearts, crying out, 'Abba, Father!'" (Galatians 4:6)

I've always loved this verse. It's so sweet. In the recent theme of God teaching me more about my sonship, it's the perfect cherry on top of that heaping dollop of white whipped cream.

"Daddy!" That's who God is to me. Yes He's holy, yes He's righteous, yes He's omnipotent, yes He's on His throne, but He's still and always my Daddy. There's something so tender about that. "Thank you, Paul, for penning these words for me!" And what's even more remarkable about all of this is that God promised me, and also followed through on that promise, His Spirit. If I'm correctly reading the grammar in this verse, it's His Spirit that's crying out on my behalf with the salutation, 'Daddy' (i.e., Abba). Apart from the living, indwelling and active role of the Spirit within my soul, I wouldn't be able to refer to my Father as my Daddy. And for all those who do not possess faith in Jesus Christ, God is not known as their Daddy; He remains unapproachable with an enormous chasm dividing the two of them, carved by the raging rivers of sin. But for me, and others like me who have received by grace the Spirit of Truth, the chasm is bridged with a freeway that gives me direct access to Him; there are no off-ramps or diversions. Who am I to have been given directions and entry onto that one-way on-ramp?

So what do I want to tell my Daddy today (because I can tell Him anything)? The same thing my little Willow-tree said to me this morning as I headed off to work, kissed her and blew a "good-bye" to her, "A hug too, Dadda", she said in her slurred speech. I picked her up, held her, and she gently tapped her right hand on my left shoulder as her head softly rested there. "A hug too, Daddy. Hold me today ever close to You and don't let me go. I lie limp in Your arms knowing I will not be dropped. There's simply no place more secure."'

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That's it! Simple, and not very profound, but a touch from God today.

Warmly in Christ,

Tom

More Change

Family change can be an emotion- ally draining thing, especially for the parents, even when it's all good. This weekend there was a confluence of that for Victoria and me when I first picked up Austin and Meagan at San Francisco International Airport very early Friday morning after their "red-eye" flight back from their honeymoon in Kauai, Hawaii. Their tan bodies and glowing smiles were a sight for any eyes, especially ones that are sore (although ours are not). They dropped me off at my office in the City while they headed back to our house on the East Bay to rest and unwind. Barret was also home as he's now out of school for the year, and Annie was on her way home for the weekend because she needed to attend a wedding nearby. That evening we had all eight (Austin, Meagan, Annie, Barret, Poppy, Willow, Victoria and me) of us in our (what-seems-like) increasingly smaller home for a reunion that we know will be difficult to repeat in the future. A few margaritas, BBQ-ed pork ribs, smashed potatoes (that's we we call em'), and a plate of warm chocolate chip cookies made for full tummies while we reminisced about Austin and Meagan's "wedding of the century" and honeymoon to boot. Thoroughly enjoying that evening sort of caused both Victoria and me to have "out of body" experiences where you can't believe that you're talking to your son who's now no longer one, but two. Although still an individual, we will now think of him as a unit with his love, Meagan. This is a very good thing.

The weekend also highlighted Barret's completion of his Sophomore year of high-school when we received his report card with perfect grades ("We all thank you, God.") and imminent transition into his Junior year. We may only have a little over 24 months left with him in our home. Annie's presence and studies for her finals next week marked the near completion of her Junior year of college and entree into her first (of two) Senior years before she receives her Bachelor's degree. We also moved the two little girls out of their room and into ours so that we could make room for Meagan's younger sister (Kristen) to come live with us for the summer as she participates in a working internship a few miles south of where we live. (She'll move in with us next weekend, and we're so excited to share our lives together for a few months.)

And to top off the weekend, we all went out to dinner last night at the Cheese- cake Factory and jammed into a little booth that made for cozy confines and good conversation. When we got back to the house Austin and Meagan had the challenge of packing all of their wedding gifts (which they opened on Saturday) into their small little Toyota Camry before they headed back to Colorado. Unbelievably, Austin managed to painstakingly and meticulously pack each item so there wasn't a square inch to spare and successfully got it all in there. They were definitely riding a little low this morning as they pulled out of the driveway to start their three-leg trip to Lone Tree, Colorado.

So you see, it is all so very good and certainly as it should be, but the toll on our psyches is a bit much right now. We're trusting that God's perfect design for all of this provides comfort, but most of all will remove some of the sting of life's natural course. I was basking in my own little pity party for a moment yesterday as I contemplated all of this when Annie asked me how I was doing. I told her it was hard to let everyone go, especially not knowing when we would have these kinds of moments to share in again. Austin and Meagan smiled at me and said, "Well it won't be long, Dad, because we're coming back to be in a wedding in early August and need a place to stay, so we're hoping we can do this again then." My countenance was lifted and I'm already eagerly anticipating our next reunion, just two months away.

For now, we release our children again into the hands of our loving God. It seems like we're constantly reminded lately that we need to hold them loosely in the palms of our own hands. I/we do look forward to that day, however, when we'll no longer have to say good-bye to each other.

Lovingly Drained,

Tom (& Victoria)

Compassion Revisited

In one of our posts last month I wrote about a Christian relief organization named Compassion International (there’s a link to their website somewhere in the right hand margin of this blog). Victoria and I deeply respect both their mission and leadership. Since our oldest children were very young we’ve sponsored Compassion kids throughout their growing-up years until they eventually “age-out” out of the system and matriculate into some semblance of self sufficiency. Some of our children have had more than one Compassion child assigned to them in their lifetime because the Compassion kids successfully complete the program as designed. It costs $32.00/month/child (when we started over 20 years ago it was $18.00/month), which is really no sacrifice at all, and there’s usually some means of regular communication with them that occurs about every three to four months by way of “snail mail” hand-written letters. The correspondence almost always has to be translated because English isn’t usually their native tongue (our assigned kids were/are from various parts of Africa and Southeast Asia). Likewise, our own kid’s letters back to them were translated into their language. About every three to four years we receive an updated picture of them that we give to our children to look at and pray for if they think of it (which probably happened less than we would have liked). One of the things we enjoy most about this organization is the balanced use of funds that are directed to their physical needs (food, shelter and clothing), education, and spiritual nourishment with the gospel.

Month after month funds are given and letters are written. Life cruises by and before you know it you find out that the child you’ve sponsored for so long is finished and now ready and prepared to move on with life. Sometimes you wonder what happened to them and what they’re doing, thinking that you’ll never have a chance to make contact with them in this lifetime. You hope they’ve placed their faith and trust in Jesus as their Savior so you might one day meet them in glory. But in this high-tech day and age of rapid communication and quick internet connections, you never know what’s going to happen. In fact, just this last Christmas season I decided to enter the 21^st Century and join Facebook, that “seven-degrees of influence” community of users that reconnects you to people from your past you never thought you’d ever talk to again. Childhood friends, high-school connections and college buddies are jumping out of the woodworks and I’m now enjoying sharing a small piece of our later-lives together. My own children became some of my very first “Friends” on Facebook. The search engine is so robust that if you type someone’s name into the “search” bar, every name that even closely resembles what you’ve typed shows up if they too are members of Facebook. There are literally millions of people all over the world exchanging communications and pictures with one another, growing by almost 10,000 people per day (I once read).

Wouldn’t you know, on the other side of the world this networking system has now reconnected us with one of our Compassion children? She found Annie through Facebook, and Victoria and I have also befriended her in Facebook. We were so excited to hear from her, and to also know that she’s a Christian and appears to love Jesus. I share some of her guileless quotes below: (I have no idea why Blogger shows this stinkin' HTML stuff below; I can't get rid of it.)

• "Well, some years ago, I knew Annie through compassion colorado. I was looking for her since 3 years ago and God give me the way to found her through facebook, oh, i'm so glad! I wish I can meet her someday to say thank u, to have a friendship with her and family. I always pray for this."

• "Hi, I'm so good. Well, I was finished my undergraduate in 2007. February last year I'd a job, be a teacher in a school which is name Charis National Academy. But on May 2008, i was sick (typhus) and should taking a rest 3 months. So, i'm resigned from the school. And on November 2008, my aunty was calling me to lived with her, so i'm far away! I lived at Papua Island now. And still looking for a job, How's ur life? I'm so glad when see the picture of Austin's wedding. Congratulation. Jesus loves you. Thanks for your love since 11 years ago, and your family. I miss Annie so much. Sorry if my english isn't well."

• "Hi Tom! I'm so excited could found Annie and V and You! How's great our Lord.. How are you? I could see ur face when I was 17 (7 years ago!) through the pict which Annie sent to me. Sorry if my english isn't well. But I'll always learn to speaking english well. And I wish that we will meet someday. Gbu"

Pretty sweet, huh?

“Christina, welcome back, and we hope and pray that we will have the honor and joy of meeting you face to face someday soon. What a gift to know that God has met you and stayed by you all these years on the other side of the planet. We are excited to hear more about what God has done and is doing, and to stay connected until we reunite either here on this temporary resting place or in our eternal dwelling with Jesus.”

Warmly in Christ,

Tom (& Victoria)