A Father's Day

Today I received just what I wanted on Father's Day, what Victoria reminded me I've always asked for, nothing. But then again, I got everything, which made the nothing even that much more of everything. And what was the "nothing" I got? A most pleasant call from my eldest, Austin, who reminded me that I'm not only his father, but also one of his best friends; a delightful voicemail message from my daughter, Annie (who's sick as a dog - must have caught that nasty thing we have just before she left for Mount Hermon), thanking me for being the best father in the world to her; the sweetest note from Barret which contained words most any father would die to read from their son; a proud note from my wife highlighting nice character traits about my fatherhood that are hard to read and receive, but so soul-felt and genuine; unsolicited kisses from my lovely Willow-tree while swimming in the kiddy pool with her; and a handmade note from Poppy to "my Daddy", with a bar of (also handmade) soap with a plastic giraffe molded inside of it. (O. K., so Poppy broke the rule and got me something, but it didn't cost her anything except love.)

One of my few moments alone today was spent lying in our hammock in the backyard (the first time I've done that this year). Boy was that sweet; lush greenery all around, a nice breeze blowing through the eucalyptus trees, a perfect mid-80's temperature with little humidity, and a momentary doze that was quickly awakened by the words of Poppy beneath me, "Daddy, may I lay with you?" I didn't want to be alone anyway; I was starting to miss my family the moment I crawled into that thing.

A Father's Day of Father's Days,

Tom

"Daddy, I Colored On the Walls"

Moments ago I was sitting here in our study catching up on some on-line news while the girls quietly played in the kitchen. I had been intently watching them for a little over an hour while Victoria scooted to run some quick errands. (Barret was over at a friend's house.)  I figured things were well enough that I could leave them alone for a short time; besides, they were within earshot and literally within view with the simple turn of my head over my right shoulder.  After just a few minutes, Poppy sauntered into the study and said with a rather nonplussed voice, "Daddy, I colored on the walls."  So, I got up to take a look at what had happened while thinking to myself, "How much damage could she cause in just a few minutes?", and sure enough, she not only colored on the walls, but on the cupboards, oven, microwave and wainscoting down the hallway.  As I looked at what my eyes could not believe, she said, "I think I colored in five spots.", and then she proceeded to show me what I could already see, but then some also rather unique spots where I would have never thought to look. I'd say there were certainly more than five spots, that's for sure. Rather than ask her the obvious question any parent would be inclined to ask at that moment, "Why would you do such a thing?", I restrained myself knowing that any response she might give would not only be unsatisfactory, but also benign because I already knew she didn't know why she would do such a thing. Instead, I said to her, "You did a naughty thing, didn't you?  You disobeyed your Daddy."  She looked up at me with those big brown, round eyes, with her moist and plump lower lip quivering, and shook her head in the affirmative. She proceeded to cry silently with big "alligator tears" streaming down her cheeks, while she then faced the consequences of her wrongdoing.

Later, after the "dust had settled" and I helped her while she cleaned up her mess (some of it unclean-able), we went outside to have her sit in my lap while we talked through what had just happened.  I asked her what I refrained from asking earlier, "Why did you color on the walls?" Of course, every parent knows the answer to that question before it's ever asked, "Because." I wasn't going to continue the circular conversation by responding, "Because why?", so I then explained to her why I thought she did what she did, which in simple terms was to get my attention one way or the other, even if it meant doing something bad or wrong. What's fascinating to me is that she couldn't wait to tell me about her trespass. She knew I'd see it sooner rather than later, so she might as well bring it to my attention immediately.  She then said to me, "I'm sorry, Daddy.", and "I love you."  Without hesitation I said, "I forgive you, and I love you too, Sweetheart."

Hard to believe that sweet little girl, pictured above just a few hours earlier, could do such a thing.  But, then again, it isn't really. Poppy's just like me, and just like all of us I suppose. The things we'll do to get love, affection and attention.

Still not feeling well,

Tom

 

Tea Time

The San Francisco Bay Area is shining in all its glory these days. Clear, sunny, warm, light breezes,... it really doesn't get much better. Seems like there's always a downside to every upside though, as the Govenator (Arnold) has officially declared California to be in a state of drought (the first time since 1991). Poppy and Willow suppose that's just fine, as long as it doesn't affect their tubby-times.  

Well, you know how I stated in my last post that Alice Cooper's picture painted a pretty good picture of how we all feel, but it wasn't really that bad? I take that back. We're pretty much that miserable, everyone except Barret. We're all hacking, with modulating fevers,... you get the picture.  I flew to San Diego yesterday for a meeting with the Padres and on my return flight home, as we descended from about 25,000 feet, I regretted that decision.  I honestly felt like the left side of my head was going to explode. I think I lost hearing in my left ear until I laid down to go to bed, which seemed to magically cause my ear to pop and I could suddenly hear again. Well, enough about our illnesses; we'll get through them by the grace of God. 

I'm going to leave you with some pictures below of a quick trip to the petting farm the kids went to recently, a photograph of the girls playing in their pool in the backyard, and Poppy's handiwork of preparing for a pretend tea time with her make believe friends (she's getting so creative with her imagination these days).

It's difficult to muster up my own creativity on this post under our current conditions, so I'm going to sign off before I bore you to death.

Warmly in Christ,

Tom

A Small Price to Pay

Well, we Kruggel's are a pretty sorry bunch at the moment. Not all of us, mind you, but over 50 percent of us. Willow's virus seems to have crept across our family and has now infected Victoria, Poppy and me. The only one spared at home right now is Barret. Yesterday both Victoria and I started to feel a little under the weather, and then this morning we could hear our Pop-Tart coughing while she began to wake up. When she stumbled into our study room while a little groggy (where Victoria and I were enjoying a quick cup of java before I headed off to work), Poppy said with a low, raspy voice, "I don't feel good... I got it from Willow." Misery loves company. Later in the day Poppy got a fever (in the midst of our 90-plus degree heat), and Willow now has an ear infection on top of a really nasty cough. The photograph of Alice Cooper to the upper left pretty much paints the picture of how we feel right now (although I guess it's not that bad).

In the scheme of things, however, these are all small prices to pay for the joy we all receive from everyone in our family. Why just the other day I got an unsolicited "I love you, Daddy!", with a strong grip on my leg from Poppy. (Of course my heart melted.) This came just one day after I received a similar expression from her, only that time she followed it up with, "... but I don't like your whiskers." (I'm told they're pretty prickly when I kiss the girls.)

Lest you think everything is always hunky-dory around our household in spite of our illnesses, we were reminded yesterday that sin has a way of creeping into all of lives, even at a very early age. Why this became very real for us when Willow took an unprovoked swing at Poppy. The Poppy-Seed was rather unfazed by it all, but where do they get these things? I'm pretty confident I know the answer to that rhetorical question.

On a final good note, Annie's safe and sound at Mount Hermon now and going through counseling training for the summer. And Austin's tough final (in some multi-linear astrophysical engineering class that I haven't got a clue about) went really well yesterday. Now he's finishing up a big project that's due tomorrow, and then prepares for his final final scheduled for this Friday. Then, for all of our kids, "School's out for Summer!" (- Alice Cooper) I always loved that song. At my age I just wish the lyrics went something like, "Work's out for Summer!

A little not-so-well,

Tom

Saying Goodbye and Saying Hello

Just moments ago our dear Annie drove out of our driveway to begin her summer of camp counseling at Mt. Hermon, (the summer camp where Tom and I met, in the Santa Cruz mountains). When she returns home in August she will quickly pack again to move to San Luis Obispo and her next adventure as a Graphics Design student at Cal Poly. 

Words cannot adequately express the joy and gratitude that I feel for the closeness of our mother/daughter relationship.  The only "downside" to such closeness is the pain in letting go when we must. I am comforted to remember that our God has ordained these seasons of life..."For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven..." (Ecclesiastes 3), or I would be tempted to cling to certain seasons in an unhealthy, unyielding way.

Our first night back from China I laid in bed softly singing "Edelweiss" to Willow to woo her to sleep. My voice cracked as I was overcome with such a variety of thoughts and emotions ... my familiar bed, a new child in my arms, thinking of my older children in their rooms with whom I had almost finished my parenting race.  So much saying "goodbye" and saying "hello" all at once...my heart felt stretched out, as if on a rack,  on both ends of the continuum.  I had to get up to tell Annie that as happy as I was/am about Willow (and Poppy), they could never "replace" her in my heart or my life. (One child can never replace another!)  Annie and I shed some tears together and spent some tender moments talking about change and the subsequent joy and pain that it always seems to bring with it.  

So now...my Annie has pulled out of the driveway of my daily life and I will miss her presence terribly.  But God is GOOD and he will bring good to her as she grows more fully into the beautiful woman she is becoming.  And I will grow too as I settle more deeply into my ordained role as "mommy", once again.  

Annie, laughing with you and BEING with you  is one of the greatest JOYS of my entire life. Thank you dear daughter, goodnight... your Mom is praying for you!

Friends

Willow's not feeling too good today.  She has a virus that's morphed into a nasty, croupy cough at night.  This evening we've had to open all the windows in the bedroom to create as fresh and cool of an environment for her as possible. The doctor has prescribed some steroids for her, which we've been told will kick in sometime this evening.  In the meantime, it's hard to watch these little helpless ones struggle through illnesses, especially when they cannot comprehend.  

Poppy continues to say the darnedest things, and today was no exception.  After putting the girls' pajamas on before nighty-night, I sat down on the bed to string a few toy placards with holes that outline bugs like dragonflies, grasshoppers and so on. I was impressed with Poppy's manual dexterity, and even found myself enjoying the stringing exercise. (So much for the box that states "For Ages 3 to 5".) As usual, during these peaceful moments, Poppy's contemplative mind comes alive and she says to me with the sweetest little voice, "I'm so glad I have a friend."  I asked, "What friend are you talking about, Sweetheart?"  She said, "Willow."  

Gonna hit the hay and lie next to my girls. As my head rests on my pillow, I'll pray for Austin who has a grueling set of finals next week, and for Annie who leaves for her summer at Mount Hermon on Sunday.  (Boo hoo!)  

Tom

My Sweet Time With Willow

I love putting Willow to bed! Now, that sounds like I just want to finish my day of caring for her, but that's not what I mean here! I LOVE taking her back to my bedroom, where her crib is, and cuddling her as she drinks her warm bottle of formula. (She's still pretty dependent on formula until her palate is repaired and she can eat greater volumes of food, calories...) I put her on the bed and gather her blankie, close the curtains, etc. While I do that, she rolls around on my bed in gleeful anticipation of what's coming next! Then I playfully grab her little feet and pull her body towards me which makes us both laugh out loud. I get her all cuddled up with her soft blankie next to her cheek and wrap the rest of the blankie around her little peanut body.

Then I just settle back to enjoy looking at her sweet face as she drinks her bottle down. I get to kiss her and coo at her and not worry about Poppy seeing me! : ) When she finishes her bottle she is barely awake and she lies there in my arms as still and peaceful as can be. I wonder at the blessed privilege that the Lord has granted to me to be the source of comfort and peace for another dear child. I pray for her and for my endurance to be a "good mama" for her, a mama that has an enduring, growing trust in the Lord.

Praise God from whom all blessings flow...

Bilingual Babble

At times, Willow has her moments of being a chatterbox in her own way. Usually it's in the form of babble, and sometimes it's in the form of what's known where she comes from as the "Wu Wei Whine". This whine usually consists of a medium grade 2-second drone without any tears. It basically means, "I want what I want and I want it now". We all feel that way at times, it's just that toddlers (no matter where they come from) have no inhibitions about expressing their selfish hubris, and most adults (although not all of us) have mastered the art of wanting to cry out with a Wu Wei Whine, but usually control ourselves so it's only heard by our own conscience.

While enjoying our routine evening tubby-time last night, Willow resorted to a form of babble chatterbox as opposed to the Wu Wei Whine because she basically had what she wanted and she had it right then and there in the bathtub. The tub may be one of her favorite places to hang. Truly, she's often happiest soaking and playing in those three to four inches of sudsy, soapy water than anywhere else. The girls almost always bath together, and Poppy loves to wash her Mei Mei while Willow plays as if there's not a care in the world. During Willow's play in the tub last night her babble went something along the lines of "eh, eh, eh, ah, ah", but with a slight slur to it. She also mixed in some sweet little grunts, usually meaning that she's trying to point something out to me. While intently watching and listening to Willow's chatter, Poppy looked up at me and said so proudly, "Dad, Willow can say 'eh, eh, eh' and 'ah ah' in English!"

This little toddler-girl is already bilingual in babble! It's amazing how quickly they learn.

They never cease to amaze me, these girls.

Tom

Last Day On Earth

Running along San Francisco's waterfront Embarcadero on a breezy, but bright Friday noon-time work break, I worshipped on my iPod in a fresh way following his daughter's untimely death to some of Stephen Curtis Chapman's older tunes. Serendipitously, about a mile into the run the next song began with a slow and somewhat melancholy melody. The words he sung went like this;

I pull over the side of the road and I

Watch the cars pass me by

The headlights and the black limousines tell me

Someone is saying goodbye

I bow my head and I whisper a prayer, "Father,

Comfort their broken hearts"

And as I drive away there's a thought that I

I cannot escape, no I, I cannot escape this thought

I can't get away

Oh, if this should be my last day on this earth

How then shall I live

Oh, if this should be the last day that I have

Before I breathe the air of Heaven

Let me live it with abandon to

The only thing that remains

After my last day here on earth

Rounding the corner of a small brick building next to AT&T Park, I saw ahead a faded, but still somewhat colorful wreath tied to a palm tree encircling a picture of a young man dressed in a baseball uniform. Drawing closer, the letters of his name came into focus and I stopped to read some of the notes from childhood relatives attached to Anthony's memorial. "I don't miss you a little, I miss you a lot..." And, "I know you cannot hear me because you're dead, but I'm still going to say it, 'I love you'..."

The timing of the song and the encounter with this lifeless stranger were no accident. This San Francisco Giants fan lived a short 19 years and something, I know not what, took his life. How did he live his last days here on earth? Did he know his last day(s) would be his last?

Now, two men I've never met, one grieving and one deceased, have left indelible marks of grace upon my life. Today I live as if it were my last day on earth. So I say to my mother and my father, to my sister and my wife, to my sons and my daughters, and to my Jesus, "I love you". May tomorrow come so that I may do it again, "... with abandon to the only thing that remains after my last day here on earth", Him and us.

Life is good,

Tom

Out of the Mouths of Babes

Well, yesterday Victoria and I heard some pretty "profound" things come out of the mouth of our babe, Poppy. Let me share two of those with you.

While meeting with a group of families (including our Pastors) from our church over at a friend's house, Victoria was able to explain a few of the potty challenges Poppy had while we were in China, all of which really centered around her utter disdain for the type of toilets used in Asia (more of a hole in the floor than a raised seated bowl we're used to here). When Poppy had to go to the bathroom in China, she would just hold it forever until she almost made herself sick while waiting to find a bathroom with fixtures she was comfortable with. Poppy listened to her mother explain this conundrum to our friends, and later when one of our Pastors asked during a share-time what we can thank God for today, she said without any guile, "That we don't have yucky potties, but nice ones." Yes, we can give God thanks for some of the simple pleasures of life, even these.

On a more serious note, at church Victoria and I were given a wonderful opportunity to share with the congregation just a little bit about our passion for children without mommies and daddies, and the profound influence our little blessings from heaven (Poppy & Willow) have been to our family. While we were waiting between the two services for the second one to start, out of the blue Poppy comes up to me and says with a most sincere voice, "Dad, thanks for taking care of Willow and me." Ohhhh, that was like warm, soothing oil poured over my love-beating heart. The timing of what she said was not only perfect given what Victoria and I had just shared with everyone, but also mysterious because I'm quite confident she never heard what we said during the first service. Well, needless to state, I'm going to cherish those words for a long time. "Thank you for that blessing, Jesus."

A very happy Daddy,

Tom

It's Hard to Share!

Soaking in a warm bathtub, Poppy thoughtfully filled her hands with liquid baby soap, rubbed them together making some fun foam, and then gingerly leaned over to her little sister and gently rubbed her wet little body all over. After carefully rinsing her off with a Tupperware bin, she proceeded to do this same routine over and over again, maybe six or seven times. She must have used half a bottle of Johnson's Baby Soap, but it was just too cute and relaxing to try to put a stop to it. Willow didn't seem to mind a bit as she was busy playing with all of the floating toys, so many that they almost covered the entire surface of the water and suds.  Every so often, while Poppy was carefully bathing her Mei Mei, she would stop and no doubt ponder the fact that Willow had reign over the entire field of toys while she was busy washing her sister. Sharing has been one of Poppy's biggest obstacles to overcome in her adjustment to becoming a Jie Jie. Then, right during one of her contemplative moments to consider her lack of control over the toy domain, she looked up at me with her deep, dark, round eyes and said ever so articulately, "Dad, it's hard to share."

"Yes, Poppy, it's hard to share."

Another Great Day with Jesus & My Precious Family,

Tom

Chapman Family Update

Below is a recent quote/update from a spokesperson about the Chapman Family's sorrow and joy, all mixed into one package that only the Master Designer could concoct:

"Thanks for all your prayers for the Chapman family. They certainly have felt the love of God over the past few days from all those who have lifted them up in prayer during this unimaginably difficult time. The name of the Lord was exalted in ways that we could never retell. We are in awe at His grace, compassion and mercy. Little Maria's life, although short, has already moved mightily in peoples lives to bring Him glory. (At the service) the entire family stood in the church as a long line of friends and acquaintances greeted them, hugged them, cried with them and loved on them. The Chapman family and Steven's ministry has obviously impacted so many. They stood there for more than 4 hours before one of the pastors finally stopped it and had hundreds still remaining in line just sit down and then Steven apologetically, but so graciously addressed the entire group. At the funeral, both Michael W. Smith and Matt Redman helped lead everyone in worship. Matt led us in a song we often sing that he wrote, "Blessed Be the Name of the Lord." It was amazing to watch the Chapman family sing with loud voices as they hugged one another, "He gives and takes away. He gives and takes away. My heart will choose to say, 'Lord, blessed be your name.'" This song will never be the same to me personally. We worshipped and sang for 30-minutes. And then the Chapman's celebrated Maria by sharing stories and talking about her for almost an hour and a half, praising God for her life and acknowledging that she was safe in the arms of Jesus. All the while pictures of Maria flashed on two big screens behind the stage - her little white casket at the foot of the stage. She was buried in the "flower girl" dress she was going to wear in Emily's upcoming wedding. Jeff Moore sang Steven's song "With Hope" which Steven wrote for a family years ago, going through the same type of tragedy. All of Maria's little friends came forward and placed a flower at the foot of the casket while Jeff sang. The Chapman's are unwavering in their love for Christ and doing well. Their entire family was a display of faith in practice at the most difficult time of their lives. No one in the family wore shoes, because the veil had been lifted for Maria. They were on "Holy Ground" and God's presence was felt. Caleb (19) said in his prayer, "while we've always been excited about Heaven, it seems so much more real now...and gets us that much more excited to be there ourselves someday. So we'll live life on Earth as if each day counts until we get there.". He also said that although they are "confused" they've never been so sure about Christ and His saving grace. Caleb likened this to one of those abstract picture s that when you're up close, you can't see what it is, but as you step back, you start to see what the artist wants you to see. He said, "And this is a big picture, so we may have to stand waaayyy back."... but we will see what the Artist has designed and what the picture is. He has his dad's wisdom - well beyond his years. Emily Chapman (22) just got engaged and said that after the proposal, Maria was the only one who asked, "What did you say?". Maria asked it multiple times. (Of course Emily said "yes" to her future husband). But Emily addressed the 3000+ crowd and turned Maria's question back to everyone listening in regards to their answer to Christ's proposal to each of us,. "What did you say?". Powerful under these circumstances. The good news of the Gospel was presented four times throughout the ceremony by the family. Steven was a rock and just gave all the glory to God. The model of a humble, Godly man. His humility and appreciation for everyone there, which was a testament to his character and his sincere faith and love for his God and His son, Jesus Christ. He just kept reminding us that "Heaven is real." Steven shared that after the accident, in the hospital, he held Maria's lifeless body and cried out to God. He cried out, asking to somehow see some kind of sign that she was going to be okay...to see that she was going to be safe. When they got home that night, they found the last picture Maria drew on that Wednesday afternoon on her little art table (she loved to draw!). It was a flower and a butterfly and folded in half like a card. When Steven opened the card up, she had written one word on the inside - a word he didn't even know she knew how to spell. It was "See." A simple answer to his cry to 'see' that she was safe. Please keep praying for them. They are worn out, sad and yet rejoicing in the Lord. Please pray for Will Franklin Chapman. He seems to be the one that is having the hardest time and struggling with the guilt of the accident. It truly was an accident. Will pulled the car into the driveway and because the family was throwing a party that night for Caleb's graduation, he decided to back the car up onto the grass just as Maria ran out behind the car to welcome him home. There was no way for him to know that Maria was behind that car. The Lord was ready to take Maria home. He knew the number of her days. Will stood with Maria's favorite pink blanket draped over his shoulders both days. All in all God was glorified. Praise Him for His sovereign ways."

Sleep Is Definitely Not Over-Rated

Driving into our driveway last night, this is what I saw when I opened my car door. What a wonderful sight for a Daddy of five.

Willow has managed to sleep through the night, in her own crib, for three evenings in a row. Now that's sweet. Poppy's even managed to fall asleep in her own bed (as opposed to ours), but she somehow always manages to awake from her internal alarm clock and crawl into bed with us around 1:00 a.m. or so. Keep in mind that both of the girls are sleeping in our room until we can free up some more space in our home so that we can spread out a little more. I know that some might think it's crazy that we allow our children to sleep in our room, and even in our own bed, but there are just some things we refuse to get uptight about on this second go around with young children, and this is one of them. I'm sure there will be no permanent damage done. Selfishly, I like cuddling up to all of the girls under the covers. I just can't stop touching their little feet; I love 'em!

Barret's last day of school was today, and he's off for the summer. He's so relieved and excited. Here he is (below) celebrating with his little sisters in the hammock. Annie's finished with her second year of junior college as well, and she's off to work at Mount Hermon (where this whole thing started with the introduction of Victoria and me back in 1979) in about a week and a half. Boy are we going to miss her. Austin moves into the tenth week of the final quarter of the year (known as "dead week") next week, and then the following week has finals before he finishes up his fifth year (now in graduate school). We feel for him; pretty stressful right now.

There are so many deep thoughts I've had recently that I want to journal, but I'm just so tired at night. I'll try to reflect and post some of those things soon (nothing terribly profound; just Tom being Tom).

Until our next post,

Tom

(BTW: I posted a video of some of our first moments with Willow right after we got her to the right, in the margin. Look for "Lullabies".)

Some Staggering Statistics

I was just doing a little research on children without mommies and daddies, and was staggered by what I read (assuming the sources are reliable, which they appear to be):

• Every 15 SECONDS, another child becomes an AIDS orphan in Africa. (1)
• Every DAY 5,760 more children become orphans.
• Every YEAR 2,102,400 more children become orphans (in Africa alone).
  
• 143,000,000 (2) Orphans in the world today spend an average of 10 years (3) in an orphanage or foster home .
• Approximately 250,000 children are adopted annually, but…
• Every YEAR 14,050,000 children still grow up as orphans and AGE OUT (4) of the system.
• Every DAY 38,493 children AGE OUT.
• Every 2.2 SECONDS, another orphan child AGES OUT with no family to belong to and no place to call home.

1. http://www.habitatforhumanity.org.uk/current_appeal.htm.

2. According to figures from the United Nations. These statistics include children in the American Foster Care system.

3. This is an estimate. Infants may stay as long as 18 years while children who become orphans at an older age stay a shorter time.

4. To AGE OUT means to grow to the age where a child is forced to leave the orphanage or foster home with no place to call home.

I also just recently read that over 4,000 children are now orphaned in Sichuan Province from the earthquake in Chengdu, China.

This blows me away!

Tom

"Sing to God, sing praises to His name; Lift up a song for Him who rides through the deserts, Whose name is the LORD, and exult before Him. A father of the fatherless and a judge for the widows, Is God in His holy habitation. God makes a home for the lonely; He leads out the prisoners into prosperity," Psalm 68:4-6

I Miss China!

I miss China. I miss just about everything about it. I've had several people recently say to me, as it's only natural to do, "I bet you're glad to be back." After hearing that, I catch myself because I don't want to be disingenuous by stating something like, "Boy, am I ever.", when I'm really not that glad to be back. On the other hand, I'm not sad to be back either; I'm just sort of in this no where land of in between. So I usually just end up responding to a greeting like that with, "Well, I just really miss China."

There's really nothing like being in a place where you're completely out of your comfort zone, can't speak the language, don't know the cultural customs, with no routine about your day at all, struggling to figure out your role as a father to a child who's a complete stranger, wondering whether you're going to have enough love to give to the rest of the children and your wife, and you're totally dependent upon one another as a family and upon God's grace. I like being stretched into the uncomfortable because it's there that I find the deepest meaning in life. And I guess I fear getting back into a comfort zone that allows me to be complacent, seeking things that bring no lasting value whatsoever, and then finding myself in a pit with what feels like no escape hatches at all.

I'm actually in a good place right now. Ruminating upon where I am in life, I caught myself mentally saying, "This may be one of my best days. I have the perfect wife, five (count them, five) unbelievable children, and the inheritance into a Kingdom of eternity with Jesus." All of this, and I know from whom it comes. I don't just know it mentally, I know Him intimately. And I want to love Jesus intimately all the more. I wish I could say that my spirit was as close as it's ever been with Him, but it's not. Ironically, at this sweet spot of life I find myself less engaged with Him as I'd like. Perhaps this is one of the reasons why I need routine, commonality, and even the mundane at times.

So, for now, I live in this place of between (ness), both physically and spiritually. I don't want to dwell here too much longer.

Wandering, just a bit,

Tom

"Chinese" Food

So for the first time in about a month Victoria and I had a couple of hours together alone.  Annie stayed home with the girls, while Barret went out to be with some friends.  We decided we'd go out and reminisce over some Chinese appetizers with the Chinese beverage of choice, a Tsingtao Beer. Only problem was that the appetizers tasted nothing like what you'd get in China, and the Tsingtao Beer cost us $3.75/bottle, as opposed to $.40/bottle in China.  

A friend of mine from work who is apparently addicted to pot stickers recently asked me if we saw or tasted any of those while over there. Nope, not one. Never saw them.  My mom and dad asked me what we drank over there since as a westerner you really shouldn't drink the water out of the tap, and I told them Tsingtao Beer and bottled water.  Wondering whether their 15 year-old grandchild also shared the same choice of drinks, I assured them that we substituted a Coca Cola for the Tsingtao Beer for him.  

Something else; when we paid our bill tonight we were served with two chocolate mints and two fortune cookies.  Of course, we never saw those over there in China either.  So why do they call the "Chinese" food we eat over here Chinese?  

And guess what Victoria's fortune out of her cookie was?  "You will have a large family!"  True story!  HA!

Tom