And the Lord Sits as King Forever

Yesterday, while in sunny (85 degrees) San Diego on business, I received a call on my cell phone from my Dad. I rarely receive calls from him in the middle of the work day, so I almost always try to answer the call regardless of what I'm in the middle of; most of the time I think I'm going to receive bad news or something, but that's not always the case. But that was the case this time, although the bad news turned out in the end to be good news. Out of self preservation, I'll spare the details here for fear I might be severely reprimanded for divulging something I shouldn't. (And, yes, my parents still have that kind of effect on me, even at this age.) Bottom line, what we thought could have been a severe health problem has turned out to be repairable with an extremely optimistic prognosis. For that I'm grateful. 

I remember one time receiving another one of those calls in the middle of the work day, only this time my Dad told me that he felt God had sent him a message to give me something quite valuable, and as it turned out it was something that our family was quite in need of. Who am I to turn my dad down, much less my Father? This was a profound moment for my Dad, and has since turned out to be profound for the rest of us in our family too.

Interesting, to state the least, that God allowed me to read from Psalm 29 this morning and journal these thoughts (that follow):

"The Lord sat enthroned at the Flood, And the Lord sits as King forever." (Psalm 29:10)

"It's raining hard today, but I'm sure not nearly as hard as it did thousands of years ago when God opened the skies and sent the raging waters down to flood the earth and destroy almost the entirety of His creation. What was He doing, I mean literally doing when that happened? The Psalmist says that He sat, and that He sat enthroned. There's a part of me that thinks He ought to have been pacing the floor and sort of rubbing His chin as if He were devising some alternative scheme to change course. But He actually did what my soul (deep down) receives the greatest amount of comfort from; He sat, in control, high and exalted, and completely enthroned in all His glory. Sound unsympathetic? Not at all, it's quite the contrary. This is precisely what I need my God to be and do, and the Psalmist reminds me that this is what He will do into eternity future; then, now and forever.

Floods of life will come and go, but they do not nullify His Kingship, and they do not diminish His glory. The world's forecast is pretty stormy right now with nothing but dark clouds on the horizon as far as the eye can see; but today I choose to believe that beyond those clouds that I cannot see through sits our God, enthroned as King and Ruler."

Warmly in Christ,

Tom

It's Not Good To Be Alone

Three days in Houston, with the next evening at a business function forced me to be out and away from the home last week much more than I'm really comfortable with. I travel on business perhaps 35% of the time, but I'm fortunate that most of my trips are either north or south and, therefore, afford me the opportunity to stay in the same time zone. In fact, I've got the routine down so that I can usually leave and catch a flight early enough in the morning to arrive at my destination right about the same time as the work day begins for most, and actually return home in time to sit at the dinner table with my family and enjoy a meal together that night. 

But when I have to travel east, that's a killer for a lot of reasons. Aside from the fact that I never seem to be able to recuperate from losing a few hours of time (and usually sleep), I'm discombobulated because my routine is thrown off and my familiar surroundings are gone. Most importantly, the necessary and all important influence of family, absorbed and substituted by late night meetings and non-stop thought processes about business, cause my emotional acuity to be jeopardized. As much as I enjoy my vocation, I need my family to provide a healthy perspective to the broad and diverse character of life. I don't live to work, but I must work to live. And as I live, it provides balance to my view of work and deeper, greater meaning to what I do. This past week I heard little good news about the prospects for our economy, the longevity of this current and less than hopeful outlook, and the significant change in course about how we may be forced to live our lives in the future. These messages bombarded me for four to five solid days, all without me really seeing my family face-to-face at anytime throughout. I'm just now starting to recover and regain a clearer vision, but only after being around my family long enough to give me a sense of purpose and genuine hopefulness about tomorrow. All this is, of course, bathed in the everlasting hope of my inheritance in Jesus. 

I am so much like Adam in that "It is not good for the man to be alone;" (Genesis 2:18b). I am much more appreciative of my family today than I was one week ago.

It's good be home, and it's good not to be alone,

Tom

Bad Hair Day

O. K., so we all have bad hair days every once in awhile. Yesterday, right after Willow's nap, was certainly one for her. She hasn't been sleeping as well as she used to, so we figure she's just going through another one of those changes, like kids her age usually do; you know, like every two or three days or so. Her latest pattern of waking up from her evening sleep or daytime nap is to start to fuss a little while still in her crib, then yell out at the top of her lungs, "MaMa" or "GaGa". One of us eventually makes our way back to the room to greet her standing in her crib, but when she sees me she lays back down and sort of curls up into the fetal position. When I ask her to get up, she usually just continues to lay there, kind of ignoring me. Fighting back laughter, I just lean over into the crib and pick her up in that position as if she were a rolly-polely or something. She then, while in my arms, locks herself into that fetal posture as I carry her back to my room or to Victoria located somewhere else in the house. It's the funniest thing. Victoria then tells me that we need to give her ample time to de-grump. In this photo you can see that she hasn't come close to de-grumpifying yet. Her hair is a wild mess, which is kind of in keeping with her personality at post-nap/sleep. We don't really get upset with her because her momentary bouts of crabbiness are pretty short lived. She's quite the hoot.

Loving this stage of life,

Tom (& Victoria)

When Love Takes You In

It was just a little over four years ago that we comfortably sat in our dimly lit family room (Annie, Barret, Victoria and I) while it rained outside. It was a Sunday afternoon; we had all returned from church and just finished a nice traditional brunch together. Victoria decided to pop a DVD into our player that she had recently purchased on a whim while attending a women's conference in Las Vegas with my mom. We had little idea what was on the disc other than some music from Steven Curtis Chapman, but figured it would be a nice way to spend a few relaxing minutes together while we let our meal settle. And we had absolutely no idea that moment in time would forever change our lives. It was Steven's personal testimony to the love of God showered upon him, his wife and family through the adoption of his daughters Shohanna and Maria, both from China, that caused my heart to beat so hard I could literally feel it against my folded arms resting upon my chest. His humble expression of passionate love for Jesus and the compelling desire to pour it out to his family, and now these two girls almost brought me to tears. But it was this music video, also on the DVD (below), that took me to the brink.

[Some might say this song is over-used and over-played, but I still cry whenever I watch it.]

After that, I uncharacteristically released those unforgettable and unimaginable words, "I don't know why we're not doing something like this." God grabbed a hold of us with a grip that was inescapable. Tonight, as I type this, our two little girls from China lie in their room with soft lullabies playing on their CD player, resting with their eyes closed, living in a house thousands of miles from their homeland. Love had taken us in, and it has taken them in too.

I was recently reminded of the Chapman family after hearing an interview with Steven and his wife on Fox News. The searing loss of their daughter Maria to a tragic family accident about nine months ago hasn't caused their love for Christ or family to waiver in the slightest. If anything, it's stronger. I just simply had to write this post in honor of the man and family God brought into our lives to draw us near to Him. He may never know how they were instruments in the Redeemer's hands to us, but I have to believe that Jesus looks down and smiles. Perhaps one day they'll know, and then they'll look up at Him and also smile.

Forever grateful,

Tom (& Victoria)

Death In Parenting

There's a lot of death in parenting. Sometimes and most tragically it's mortal, which is of the worst kind because what we perceive as the natural order of life is thrown completely off kilter when a parent loses one of their children to death; it doesn't matter how old a parent or a child is. It just doesn't seem fair, and most parents would welcome the gift of their own life in exchange for that of one or more of their children. Victoria and I have never had to suffer such inconceivable sorrow and heartache, and we pray we never will.

But most of the time death in parenting comes about through the natural order of things and it's of the physically immortal kind, meaning that it continues to live on and propagate throughout this mortal life. In infancy, you lose their velvet soft heads and fresh smell of a life that's brand new. In toddler-hood, you lose their clingy snuggles after a painful bonk that only a mommy or a daddy can bring comfort to, and you also lose those unfiltered affectionate blurts of lovable expression. In nursery, you lose their omnipresence as their independence begins to blossom. In kindergarten, you lose their innocence and naivete as they begin to explore the world with all of its foibles and brokenness. In elementary, you lose their death-grip on family in exchange for the attractions of other friendships. In pre-teen years, you lose their unabashed identification with you as they begin to consider life beyond the immediacy of family. In teenage, you lose their fond remembrances of the past for hopeful anticipation of the future. In collegiate years, you lose their homestead dwelling for life lived outside of the immediate familial clan. In marriage, you lose their sole surname membership for the necessary and created leaving and cleaving to another.

If Victoria and I focus only on these losses, we sink into a tailspin of melancholy that is absolutely unrecoverable. But it's not there that our hearts remain fixed, but rather on the understanding that life can only continue through these deaths. Currently dying on both ends of these continuum's (between Austin & Willow) accentuates these pains evermore, but also ironically creates a peaceably soulful existence under the cycles of life that bear fruit through death. And the decisive crucible between final eternality either with Jesus or without Him, comes also and only through death.

"... unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains by itself alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit."

(Jesus - John 12:24)

As Victoria tearfully said yesterday morning while sitting around the breakfast table and contemplating these things with Annie, "There's a lot of death in parenting." I, too, had a good little mourning cry with Victoria right after Annie pulled away to head back for more studies at Cal Poly. It's mortal being immortal.

Emotionally exhausted,

Tom (& Victoria)

Happy Valentine's Day!

Valentine's Day is rather fun "holiday" around our home. We have very simple traditions, but they're anticipated with great expectation by our kids. We've always made it a point (I should state that "Victoria's always made it a point") to purchase small gifts and cards for the children, and bake some special treats like cupcakes or something. Poppy especially enjoys decorating those hand-sized delectables, although she does sometimes overdo it with the candied sprinkles and all. This year Victoria decided to make it a "thrift store" Valentine's Day, so she bought the little girls fairy wands and hair pieces (a tiara for Poppy and a lacy scrunchy for Willow). They also each got a box of Jelly Bellies.

This year is extra special because Annie came home for the three-day weekend (President's Day) with her college roommate, Amanda. Poppy and Willow couldn't wait for Annie to get home last night, and of course Victoria, Barret and I were pretty jazzed about it too. Annie's so much fun, being the family court jester and all, relaxed and goofy (but not always). Amanda's as sweet as can be (and also cherishes Jesus) and the two of them seem to really love each other a lot. We're so thankful to the Lord that they have one another. Right now Victoria, Annie and Amanda are at matinee movie while Barret and I stay home to watch the little ones. Tonight Annie will go out with her good friend Brian (also from CalPoly), while Amanda goes out with another friend from around this area. Victoria and I intend to stay home, put the girls down, have a little wine next to the fireplace and just talk.

I'll close this post with a quote from Shakespeare that I also quoted to my, at that time, "bride-to-be" during our wedding vows:

My bounty is as boundless as the sea,
My love as deep.
The more I give to thee,
The more I have,
For both are infinite.

Over 27 years later, I've yet to hit the bottom or run out; it's an endless spring of love.

Happy Valentine's Day,

Tom

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)

Gonghe Xinxi!

As we've oftentimes stated before, Poppy's mind seems to constantly reel and plumb depths that flabbergast us. Why just the other evening while sitting on the couch with her, she reminded me that she did not come out of Mommy's (Victoria's) tummy, but out of another mommy's tummy, and that Willow did not come out of her mommy's tummy or Victoria's. She then counted them up and said that we had three mommies around our family. I don't recall spending that much time talking to Poppy about this, nor does Victoria for that matter, and in fact she usually doesn't like to think or talk of life before she entered and became a part of ours.

Well, as many of us know, there's no guarantee that when we bear biological children that any of them will turn out the same, and we're often surprised and sometimes end up asking ourselves, "Did this child come from our blood lineage?" Now there's no mistaking that Poppy and Willow come from different blood lineages, not only by looking at their outward appearances, but by also peering into their inward character and constitutions. For example, last night we went to the Chinese New Year's Parade in San Francisco (I understand one of the largest such festivities in the country), and watched colorful float displays, illuminated dragons that stretched for several meters, and marching bands pounding rhythms and tunes all in celebratory honor of the Year of the Ox. We thoroughly enjoyed ourselves, although the parade did seem to move awfully slow at times. While waiting on the curbside with thousands of others for the next element of the parade to go by, a boy outfitted with a large dragon head and blinking eyes stooped down to the girls' level while they were sitting in their double stroller. Advancing ever closer with head bobbing up and down, the dragon eventually came within a foot or two of the girls' faces. Willow looked up, stared straight into the frightening mask, and keep eating her Cheerios as if dragons like this were commonplace in her life. Poppy on the other hand tensed up, recoiled, stiffened her back and pushed herself into the stroller seat as far as she could to escape the horrifying creature. She then burst into a high shrill cry with voluminous streaming alligator tears that were almost impossible to stop. The dragon wouldn't leave and kept staring into their faces until he finally darted over to another unsuspecting victim. While cute on the one hand, it was quite pathetic on the other. And while these two girls may very well be sisters, there's no questioning that they're two very different image-bearers of God as simply evidenced by this one experience (among many). Our love for them ever grows, as it does for all of our children, and in spite of their differences there's no one favoring over the other. All of our children are ever shaping our lives and being used by Him to hopefully transform us all the more into the likeness of Jesus.

Raising a diverse brood,

Tom (& Victoria)

Big Decisions

This entry is a copy of an e-mail my beautiful bride sent to a friend of ours contem- plating adoption. I was so impressed with it and moved by it that I decided to post it here: (Certain portions of the e-mail were redacted to preserve anonymity.)

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

I remember Annie and Barret kept asking me if I had "thought about it yet" (i.e., "Were we GOING to do it?") : ) Tom had to call off the dogs, so to speak, because I could NOT wrap my mind around it in that state!

I understand about thinking "too much" and being frightened of thinking "too little" too. Could you ever imagine while taking care of just one how you were ever going to care for more? I could not have imagined doing what we are doing now, even 5 years ago (when I was younger!).

We always think that our cups of life are FULL and that we couldn't possibly add or change what we currently deal with. But when we are doing the will of the Lord it just seems that He expands our time, our love, and our ideas of what life would be like...

From THIS side of it (signed, sealed, delivered, I'm yours!) the gains have so far outweighed the costs (gravity) that it is hard for me to go back in my mind to thinking it was such a "Big" decision. But now, in the wake of having been used of the Lord to ransom a life from a fatherless state to what it is now... to bringing a dear soul under the sound of the gospel, to learning to surrender ourselves to the care of children who were once "the least of these"... well, it is just a privilege. Now, the question is, "How wide can we open our arms?"

With a full heart of love for you,

Vicki

P.S. - So far for us it has been a win-win situation for US, our adopted girls, our older kids...everyone has been changed for the good.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

When I read things like this written by my wife, I'm not only touched to the core, but find myself falling deeper in love with her. I'm confident she wouldn't have to do anything to cause that to happen, but it just so happens that when she does do it, my heart misses a beat (yet again). I pinch myself that God gave me to her.

Ever at the mercy of Jesus,

Tom

"I Missed You!"

We've stated before that it's hard to now imagine life in the Kruggel home without Poppy and Willow, even though a majority of it was lived without them. God has so intrinsically wired us as human beings to open our arms, take risks and then look back and find it difficult to remember what it was like beforehand. As adults we can process these types of things, but how about the processing mind of a four year old that's been adopted from a foreign country? What are they thinking about their past? Do they think about it? What do they remember? How do they view you as adoptive parents? 

After being by Poppy's side all day long, Victoria caught a slight glimpse into that busy mind of hers when Poppy said out of the clear blue, "Mommy, I missed you, and Austin, and Annie, and Daddy, and Brother (Barret)." A bit puzzled by Poppy's remark, Victoria inquired, "Poppy, when did you miss us?" Poppy replied, "When I was in China." When Victoria retold this story to me she got all choked up and almost started to cry. These are the types of things those little minds ponder, and these are the types of things that cause our hearts to miss a beat.

Cherishing these tenderly precious moments,

Tom (& Victoria)

Saying "Good-Bye" Is So Very Hard To Do

We were pleasantly surprised this Saturday when Austin phoned during the day and said he and Meagan might stop by for the evening on their way back to San Luis Obispo. They had just attended a wedding a little north of our home the evening before. In fact, Austin was the Best Man and got to experience "up front and personal" the ceremony in light of his impending wedding day, now just less than four months away. Of course it feels to he and Meagan like forever in one sense because they both have so much to do to prepare, and Austin still has to finish his Master's degree program, hopefully by the end of March. He reminded me that this is his seventeenth quarter of college. I think he's ready to graduate and move on.

We had a delightful visit, as always, and just love it when our house is full with all of our children (and daughter-in-law to be). The only "chick" missing was Annie. Austin and Meagan even spent the night and stayed for the first half of the Superbowl. But no matter how many times our older kids come and go, it's always a bit hard to say "good-bye". We usually stand on the front porch as they pull away in their car, and most always watch and wait until we can no longer see them turn the bend and disappear behind the house at the corner entrance to our culdesac. After standing there motionless and collecting our thoughts for a moment or two, we head back into the house and try to pick up where we left off. It's never an easy transition, but...

At least it was a good Superbowl game.

Missing our older ones,

Tom (& Victoria)

Happy New Year!

January 26th marked the official Chinese New Year (a.k.a., Spring Festival). It is definitely one of the most celebrated and traditional holidays for the Chinese (equivalent to our Christmas Holiday), and is marked by the lunar calendar. Celebrations often last for over two weeks. Their astrology runs in twelve year cycles, moving each year from one animal zodiac to another until the cycle completes itself and then runs full circle again. Last year was the year of the "Rat", and this year is the year of the "Ox".

While we do not fully understand, nor can we possibly appreciate just how significant this holiday is for our friends in and from Asia, we nonetheless had the privilege of celebrating it in a small way last weekend with some local acquaintances of ours. In fact, these folks also adopted a sweet little girl from China named Meredith right about the same time we brought Poppy home. We had never met them before until some neighbors of ours told us (right after we returned from China with Poppy) that they too had adopted and lived only about a block away from us. We've since connected with them from time to time and found them to be very kind, generous and loving. They hosted a wonderful Chinese New Year celebration at their house replete with traditional cuisine, decorations, music, and even fireworks. Victoria was in San Luis Obispo for the weekend spending some special mother-daughter time with Annie, so I "Mr. Mommed" it with the girls and Barret. After dressing them up in their native Chinese apparel, we all went to the Chinese New Year party at our neighbor's home and had a ball together. Poppy especially loves parties and this one was no exception. Willow seems to be content just about anywhere she goes, and manages to find herself in precarious positions that never frighten her in the least. I thought this picture of her in the party host's dog-kennel was quite apropos.

We're enjoying just a few of the girl's native heritages. Next they'll have to start learning how to use chop-sticks. Right now they're pretty much food stabbing utensils instead of delicate instruments of finesse.

Gonghe Xinxi! (Happy New Year!)

Tom (& Victoria)

Hi-Ho, Hi-Ho, It's Off to Work I Go...

It's hard being a working parent, having to leave your little treasures behind for the day, sometimes for several days. For me it's always been difficult, ever since our first-born Austin came along. In their earlier years of life I could (and do now with the girls) usually see them before I headed off to work, but as they grew older it became more difficult because they often woke up after I left. As the working day draws on, your longing for them grows stronger so that by the time you actually leave work you find your mind fixated on just walking through that front door and being greeted by their lovely little faces, not to mention the wonderful smile and embrace of your spouse. Of course if you have to travel and spend the night somewhere, like I sometimes have to do, it's just murder. Now when I come home from work and open that garage door into our family room I usually hear the pitter-patter of little feet running across the hardwood floor with high-pitched screams at the top of their lungs, "Daddy, Daddy!!!", or "GaGa, GaGa!!!" in the case of Willow. I don't think your heart can melt much more than at times like those.

I guess one thing that makes my departure to work so particularly hard these days is that the girls are almost always up and Adam by 6:30 in the morning, so I'm able to connect with them as they eat breakfast or cuddle in the study room. But I have to say that the clincher is when I get into my car while still parked in the garage, start to back out looking over my shoulder, and then when I turn back around and peer through my windshield I see this adorable little face and hand sticking out of the cat-door waving to me as I pull away. Rolling down my window and putting my head out of it I can hear Willow say, "Bye, GaGa!" Aaauuggghhhh, how badly I want to just pull back into the garage and stay home the rest of the day. Oh, but I shall not, for off to work I must go and just be satisfied that I'll receive that effusive greeting from her (and Poppy) when I come home.

Working with a purpose,

Tom

A Hidden Life

One of the great benefits of adoption, among the countless, is the opportunity to connect with other families who have also adopted, are about to adopt or simply have a passion for the orphans. Victoria is one to stay connected (via the internet) with so many who fit this description and thereby allow us to be benefactors. Most of the stories she reads about are happy and joyous, but a few are sorrowful with heart-wrenching endings, and yet some have a mixture of both extreme hardship and an abundance of exultation. Such is life, but such is anyone who chooses to open their hearts to love another, regardless of whether it's your spouse, a biologically born child or one that's adopted or fostered. When Victoria stumbled across this story about some children in Uganda who've lost their parents, she sent it to me but with a warning that I needed to be in a right and receptive frame of mind knowing (as she does me) that I might react with similar emotion as her. She prefaced her e-mail to me as follows, "It's one thing to know, it's yet an entirely other thing to see." If you choose to watch (~9&1/2 minutes), we want you to know that we are not sensationalists and abhor the use of the afflicted to play on people's emotions, but in my estimation this is a far cry from that. Victoria was right, while I'm prone to tears at times, this caused me to actually weep while sitting in an expensive ergonomically sculpted chair in my high-rise building office, surrounded by everything imaginable to make me comfortable. I shielded my face as tears poured into my lap. I will not ask you to enjoy, because how could you? But I will kindly ask you to mourn, pray and beg God for mercy.

Yes, it's one thing to know, and it's yet an entirely other thing to see, but it's yet altogether another thing to taste, feel and touch. It's almost as if we were there. In so many ways, I wish we were.

Still reeling 36 hours later,

Tom (& Victoria)

"Then I looked again at all the acts of oppression which were being done under the sun: And I saw the tears of the oppressed and that they had no one to comfort them; and on the side of their oppressors was power, but they had no one to comfort them." (Ecclesiastes 4:1) "Fear God and keep His commandments, for this applies to every person. For God will bring every act to judgment, everything which is hidden, whether it is good or evil." (Ecclesiastes 12:14)

Proud To Be An American

Most all Americans will probably agree that today is a significant day in the history of our country, regardless of who one voted for on Election Day just a little over two months ago. I watched the inauguration of President Obama like millions of others and was impressed with many elements of it, not the least of which was Rick Warren's prayer of invocation. While preparing my mind and heart for today's events, I was also struck by the supplication of another noteworthy Christian that I admire so much, Dr. Al Mohler, who's prayer I read on the way into work this morning. I quote just a small segment of it below:

"Our father, Lord of all creation, Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. We pray today with a sense of special urgency and responsibility. We come before You to pray for our new President, Barack Obama, and for all those in the new administration who now assume roles of such high responsibility.

We know that You, and You alone are sovereign, that You rule over all, and that You alone are able to keep and defend us. We know that our times are in Your hands, and that 'the king's heart is like channels of water in the hand of the Lord.' (Proverbs 2:11) Our confidence is in You and in You alone. We come before You as a people who acknowledge our constant need for Your provision, wisdom, and protection."

The rest of the prayer is contained in Al Mohler's blog, which can be found with Google. I (we) don't use our blog as a political platform, but rather a platform for Jesus, His adoption of us, and His loving-kindness to "loosen the bonds of wickedness, to undo the bands of the yoke, and to let the oppressed go free, and break every yoke". (Isaiah 58:6) May God be gracious to President Obama, to all of our families, and to two little foreign girls abandoned while babies and now miraculously naturalized citizens of this great country called America. We pray these girls will also become citizens of the Kingdom that will never topple and whose King will never be dethroned.

Proud to be an American, Unworthy to be a Christian,

Tom (& Victoria)

Wild, West Willow

Today was a bit of a lazy day for us. There's nothing wrong with that; we all need them every once in awhile. After sleeping in (for Victoria and me that's now around 7:30 or 8:00 a.m.), we sat around and drank coffee, made pancakes and slowly got ready for the day. Barret and Victoria left the house around 11:00 to spend some time together while I watched the girls. After feeding them yet again another meal (seems like our kitchen is always open these days), I decided to put Willow down for a nap at around 1:30 or so. I also put Poppy down at about the same time, but in a separate room. It's been unseasonably warm, clear and dry this last week and today was no exception, so I decided to take advantage of this great weather and relaxed in the backyard (like I usually do in the summer time) by calling my Mom and Dad. After speaking with them for awhile, I made a few more calls, wrote some notes to friends, and just basked in the warmth of the sun. By around 3:00 I figured I better go check on the girls to see how they were doing, so when I walked back inside the house I could hear Willow talking to herself at the top of her lungs. Her nap-times have turned into a regular pattern of lying around in the crib, "reading" books, singing to herself, etc..., oftentimes for over an hour or so before she eventually drifts off. Well, I decided I'd peek into the room to see what she was doing and wouldn't you know it? That climbing monkey was on top of her crib, straddling the railing on all fours and having the time of her life. I couldn't help but giggle to myself as I tried to sternly tell her to get off the crib and lie down. She's always been very compliant, so she looked at me, grinned and then immediately sprawled out on the crib mattress. She's just too dang cute.

While on the subject of cute, I was strolling along with the girls (all seven of us actually) through a busy street one evening during the Holidays right before Christmas. A man I'd never met before looked down at the double stroller with both girls in tow and then looked up at me and asked, "Are you ever able to say 'no'?" I replied, "It's pretty tough." He then looked down and back up at me, smiled, laughed and said, "Dude, you're dead." I think he's right.

Taming a Wild, West Willow, 

Tom (& Victoria)