Yearn

I'm a "friend" on "Facebook" (I don't have many) with my sweet daughter Annie and she sent me a link (click below) to a song that she dedicated to me. It's by Shane & Shane, and it's entitled "Yearn". I've always loved that song, but now I love it all the more and will never hear it quite the same again. I know this all seems quite ordinary, but to me it's quite unordinary and my heart is ever quickened by the Spirit as I listen and worship to these powerful lyrics. "Jesus, I want to yearn for You, I want to burn with passion over You." What a gift from Annie.

Holy design
This place in time
That I might seek and find my God,
My God.

Lord I want to yearn for You
I want to burn with passion
Over You, and only You
Lord I want to yearn for You
I want to burn with passion
Over you, and only You
Lord I want to yearn.

Your joy is mine,
Yet why am I fine
With all of my singing and bringing grain
In light of Him?

I want to yearn for You
I want to burn with passion
Over You, and only You
Lord I want to yearn for You
I want to burn with passion
Over you, and only You.

Oh You give life and breath
In You we live and move
That's why I sing.

Lord I want to yearn for You
I want to burn with passion
Over You, and only You
Lord I want to yearn for You
I want to burn with passion
Over you, and only You
Lord I want to yearn.

[Acts 17:25-28; Hebrews 12:28-29]

Thank you, Annie.

I love you,

Dad

Another Hole?

Last night I was sitting at the computer looking at a website or something and Victoria yelled to me from the kitchen, "Honey, I think Willow has another hole in her palate!" I immediately thought to myself that there's no way and there must be a mistake. After making my way back to the kitchen I grabbed a hold of Willow, turned her upside down by grasping onto her tiny feet with one hand thereby causing her head to tip back and her mouth to open with a bird's-eye view to her palate. Sure enough, there it was; another hole right next to her two front teeth, this time about half the size of a pencil head eraser. Our hearts sunk while at the same time pondering how in the world this could have happened. Of course, anything could have happened and at anytime (which it obviously did) as it's almost impossible to keep an eye on a wandering Willow 24/7. There have been a few incidents over the last couple of weeks where we've seen her carrying something sharp enough to penetrate her palate if inserted with enough force (e.g., eating utensils, writing pens, etc...). On one occasion in particular, just yesterday as a matter of fact, I found her with a clip she'd taken out of her hair and inserted into her mouth. After taking it away from her I was hopeful that she didn't do any damage. Who knows when it happened or what caused it, but there's no doubting she's inflicted a wound into her palate, and now we'll (Victoria actually) have to make contact with the surgeon/physician and determine what can and must be done next. Naturally our prayer is that this one will heal on its own like the last. Please, if you think of it, pray along these lines. While certainly not life threatening (thank goodness), it is another setback that can not only be discouraging (although Willow certainly doesn't seem to be any worse for the wear), but also additionally demanding.

Resting in His plan,

Tom (& Victoria)

The Practice of the Presence of God

Many years ago I read a little book by a 17th Century monk named Brother Lawrence called "The Practice of the Presence of God". I've read it a few times since then; it's brief (my favorite kind), quick and an excellent read. Brother Lawrence first served in the monastery kitchen washing pots and pans. He disdained his duties in the beginning, but over time decided that if this is where the Lord wanted him to be then he was going to wash dishes as if he were doing it for the Lord's table. After being confined to this role for quite some time, he came to the conclusion that washing dishes could be just as God honoring as any other work, whether missional or otherwise. God was God wherever Brother Lawrence was, even in the kitchen, so he prayed, "Lord of the pots and pans and things, make me a saint by getting meals and washing up the dishes." The entire theme of the book is that nothing is too mundane to be considered a gift to God.

Sometimes in the midst of everyday life, the monotony and the customary, we question whether our service counts for anything. Even the highest of highs has a way drifting downward to a point of resonance that starts to feel dull and routine. Nonetheless, the working out of life must go on remembering that all of life can be an act of worship, regardless of what you're doing. It's not what, but the heart into what that has significance. And we must draw ourselves back to that heart to remember that the what does indeed count.

The excitement and pangs of adopting, much like childbirth (although I do not write from personal experience mind you) run their course and are soon "yesterday's news" amidst the demands of everyday life. However, remembering the heart behind the what we're doing gives great comfort and hope for a lasting significance into tomorrow. This image of Poppy and Willow washing dishes the other day was a gift from God that helped me recall that there's nothing too mundane in raising these two little ones (or all five of our children for that matter) that isn't a gift from and to God. I thank Him for this image and beautiful reminder that I need so often.

Trying to practice,

Tom

Atheist - "Africa Needs God"

Victoria brought to my attention an article in the London Times written by a devote and well-known atheist about Africa's need for God; and not just any God mind you, but the God of the Bible. To whet your appetite I quote below:

"Now a confirmed atheist, I've become convinced of the enormous contribution that Christian evangelism makes in Africa: sharply distinct from the work of secular NGO's, government projects and international aid efforts. These alone will not do. Education and training alone will not do. In Africa Christianity changes people's hearts. It brings a spiritual transformation. The rebirth is real. The change is good."

To read the piece in its entirety, click on the link below, but I warn it will shake your faith, like it did my own weak one, to rise with greater hope in God:

http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/comment/columnists/matthew_parris/article5400568.ece

Asking for more,

Tom

Send...

I read this prayer from Jim Elliot (martyred missionary to the Auca's in South America) yesterday and was pricked to the core.

"... Thou knowest what I can bear. Send trouble that I might know peace; send anxiety that I might know rest in Thee. Send hard things that I may learn to rely on Thy dissolving them. Strange askings, and I do not know what to speak, but 'my desire is toward Thee' - anything that will intensify and make me tender, Savior. I desire to be like Thee, Thou knowest."

I trepiditiously prayed that prayer and will cautiously continue to do so as I wait in anticipation for an answer.

Fearing Him,

Tom

Under the Cross

The day following Austin's proposal to Meagan I penned this simple poem in honor of him, his bride-to-be, and our sweet Jesus who's cross we're forever under:

Under the Cross

Under the Cross

Were you foreknown,

By the God of creation,

Who's knit and sewn,

The expanse of the stars,

Not one was clone.

And thus were you,

Incomparable, His very own.

Under the Cross

Were you conceived,

When you could not know,

What would be weaved,

How He'd never allow,

To let you dare leave,

His firm, tight grasp,

With the faith to believe.

Under the Cross

Did you come forth,

A babe so small,

With infinite worth,

To ones so weak,

Constrained by your birth,

To love and condole,

And prepare for this earth.

Under the Cross

Did you first walk,

Stumbling and stammering,

While trying to talk,

Maturing and towering,

As a strong, rooted stalk,

Always determined,

To soar as a hawk.

Under the Cross

Was your fervor to learn,

Searching and exploring,

At every turn,

What the world had to offer,

And nothing could spurn,

Your vigor for life,

The unquenchable yearn.

Under the Cross

Were you given grace,

And not on your own,

But by His embrace,

To live and to serve,

As a broken clay vase,

And only to Him,

Without a disgrace.

Under the Cross

Did you mature to a man,

Exploring the hillsides,

Formed before you began,

Searching for direction,

And to know

His great plan,

Only to discover,

Its fathomless span.

Under the Cross

Did you meet a girl,

So tender with passion,

As a rare, priceless pearl.

She'd view you as one,

To cherish and unfurl,

For the Kingdom to flourish,

In the world as it twirls.

Under the Cross

Did you kneel and propose,

To your bride to be,

An exquisite rose.

You chose your words,

With careful repose,

In reverence to Him,

So humble in pose.

Under the Cross

Shall you now go beyond,

The reaches of those,

Who held you in bond,

To release you to Him,

And to her who's so fond,

Forever and always,

At every day's dawn.

-T. M. K.

Abby

Victoria sent me this YouTube link yesterday. This little girl is the age of Poppy.

'"Lord, when did we see You hungry, and feed You, or thirsty, and give You drink? 'And when did we see You a stranger, and invite You in, or naked, and clothe You? 'And when did we see You sick, or in prison, and come to You?' "And the King will answer and say to them, 'Truly I say to you, to the extent that you did it to one of these brothers of Mine, even the least of them, you did it to Me.'" (Matthew 25:37b-40)

I'm overcome,

Tom

Getting Married & Moving!

This post is a copy of an e-mail announcement Austin sent out last night:

***************************************************************************

Dear Friends and Family,

I think that most of you already know that on a bright and crisp Thanks- giving Day in Oregon a few weeks ago, I proposed to my girlfriend Meagan, and she said yes!!! We took a morning walk along a trail at the ranch where my family spends each Thanksgiving each year in the mountains outside of Ashland, Oregon. We arrived at a beautiful hill with three larger-than-life crosses on it where we sat on a bench for a few minutes. After unsuccessfully trying to transition our conversation, I dropped to one knee and asked her if she would spend the rest of my life with me.... she said yes! :) I then proceeded to pull a ring out of my sock (the only safe place to hide it) and slip it on her finger. We couldn't be happier! The date is May 23rd!

I also wanted to let you all know that I recently accepted a position with Structural Integrity Associates as a Vibrations Analyst in Centennial, Colorado, which is a suburb of Denver. Both Meagan and I feel called to go to Colorado after we are married and believe that the Lord has appointed our life and our ministry together to start there.

I would love to call each and every one of you and tell you the full story, but wanted to make sure that each of you heard the news from me one way or another. The Lord has been so good to both Meagan and I - we are so very excited and grateful to Him for our many blessings. Spread the news!

Austin (& Meagan)

Anchors Ahoy!

When an anchor becomes untethered it serves no purpose. Tragically Poppy learned that lesson very early in life, in fact just days after celebrating her 4th Birthday when what we thought was impossible became possible. To you and me it might seem but a minor occurrence, but to Poppy it was quite the trauma. Let me explain:

In our last Blog entry I mentioned the girl's (Willow & Poppy) dichotomous reactions to the balloons I brought home for Poppy's Birthday (read below). Feeling confident that we had overcome Poppy's fears and sadness about balloons flying away because they had a toy anchor tied to the end of the string, we let them meander all through the house for several days. The girls played with them, ran with them, boxed with them, you know..., things kids like to do with balloons. Through all of that wear and tear, they never burst or lost any of their helium lift. They were a great $6.00 purchase.

When I came home from church on Sunday the girls (Victoria, Poppy & Willow) had already been home for awhile, and Victoria was making us a nice brunch. It was beautiful outside, so we decided to let our Golden Retriever, Rosie, out in the back yard. Well, on her way out her legs got tangled in one of the balloon strings and she ended up dragging it outside. Poppy screamed, "My balloon!". Victoria immediately and calmly said, "Don't worry Sweetheart, it's not going anywhere. Daddy will get it." And you know what? The anchor did its trick. The balloon remained stationary, tether in tow, and hovered about six feet off the ground with the sky's limits right overhead as it was safely tied to the toy anchor, but for... Rosie's legs getting tangled in the string. I ran outdoors and tried to grab the string, but Rosie began to flail, pulling the balloon through the slip knot it was tied to. What happened next is very vivid in my mind, almost as if I can replay it in slow motion; I jumped as high as I could to grab hold of the rising balloon and actually had it in my fingertips, sort of like a wide receiver grasping an overthrown football. I was relieved when it was within the palms of my hands, but the mylar coating was slippery and it slid right through them. As soon as my feet landed on the ground, I jumped again, only this time higher, but the balloon was of course higher too, yet to no avail - it bobbled in my fingers and then floated, floated, floated away. Poppy crumbled and sobbed; tears were streaming down her face. I felt awful. Victoria quickly said what anyone would say at that moment, "Poppy, Daddy will get you another balloon, O. K.?" She chided and whimpered, "No, I don't want anymore balloons. I just don't want anymore balloons." The dreaded became dreadful, pathetically so.

Well, off to the next adventure and lesson in life. They happen about every five to ten minutes for the girls. There's rarely a dull moment.

Anchors Ahoy!

Tom