A Simple Little Update

We have not posted in awhile, not because of a lack of desire, but simply because of a load of life that has consumed us all from a multitude of various directions. School, weddings, church, little girls that need tons of attention, volleyball, homework, chores, appointments... well, just plain life. It's all so good, and we're all so happy and grateful.

Victoria was able to spend some sweet time with Meagan on Saturday for a few hours because she flew back from Colorado and landed in Oakland to pick up her car at our house before she drove south to San Luis Obispo. Saturday was the last she'll see of Austin until just a day or two before the wedding. I know they're already missing each other so much.

Our little Annie-girl surprised me on Saturday by driving all the way up with her boyfriend, Brian, to see us for 24 hours. When she walked through the front door at about 10:00 p.m. and I turned my head while taking a little rest on the couch, I couldn't believe it was her. I literally took a double-take. She casually said with a brightened smile, "Hi Daddy!" And then I yelled, "Aaaannniee!" Victoria was on to it the whole time. What a special treat that was. Of course, the girls and Barret were thrilled to see her as well. Annie's our household court-jester, so whenever she's around the house just seems to brighten up a bit. Willow absolutely adores Brian; in fact, when I got her out of her crib on Sunday morning the first words out of her mouth were, "Whyran, Whyran". Pretty cute, although I think Annie's a little bit of a jealous-bug (only in jest). Later in the day on Sunday we hugged Annie and tried to hold back a few tears from one another, just because we love each other so much. Walking into my bathroom last night I noticed that Annie left me a little Post-It Note on my mirror telling me how much she loved me. I then noticed she left one for Barret and Victoria on their mirrors too, as well as one for the girls. We were all beaming.

There's less than four weeks to go before Austin & Meagan are married. It feels very surreal to Victoria and me. The excitement is building with each passing day. I'm going to try to get out to Colorado to see Austin alone one last time before he "leaves & cleaves". I hope to share some parting words of wisdom with him and give him the last of what I have for now.

Warmly in Christ,

Tom (& Victoria)

Ten Labors of Labor

My Dear Son Austin,

It's been almost 19 years since you first started formal education, much of which during those early years were in our home by your mother herself who tirelessly, but also joyfully loved over your care. All of that training has now culminated to this very first day on the job after completion of your post-graduate degree. Today you begin your career.

In one sense it's not the beginning because we should never live our lives in anticipation of something that might happen. That's why traversing the trail is sometimes more important than triumph at the target. When it comes to our future estate there's only on thing that's certain, and I don't think I need to remind you of what that is. But along the path, Austin, you've always stayed the course and enjoyed the scenery along the way, hoping all the while that it might lead to your desired destination. Well, son, today is what's known as the "fruit of your labor", even though we're never guaranteed that fruit in the end. Mom and I are proud, but only in a holy sense because we know that He is the giver of all good gifts.

Having been in the business world for almost 25 years now, I'd like to launch you off with what little words of wisdom I possess as they relate to work. These are what I'd call "Dad's Ten Labors of Labor":

1. First, never forget who you really work for. When it's all said and done, your paycheck may have your employer's name on it, but your wages ultimately come from God Almighty. And since He demands perfection, which was only accomplished through Jesus, so work in such a way that Jesus' perfection is upheld.
   
2. Second, resist the temptation to make much of yourself to prove something other than who you are to your colleagues, clients and service professionals. Usurping what belongs to Christ never accomplishes anything of lasting value, either for yourself or those working around you.
3. Third, having money can be more difficult than having none. Don't judge others outside of the household of faith on how they spend their wages. On the other hand, honor the Lord with your first fruits, making prudent decisions early on that you'll sacrificially live on less to gain what you cannot earn.
4. Fourth, discipline yourself to invest in your wife and family over and above your employer and employees. On the surface you may be criticized for holding your boundaries, but over time the fame of our Jesus will be honored as others see that your treasure lies beyond your career.
5. Fifth, you cannot lead where you have not been. Never ask others to do for you what you have not done yourself, unless it involves an area of expertise outside of your domain. When you're willing to humble yourself and do what seems to others as demeaning, then you've really entered the highest ranks of true leadership.
6. Sixth, never demand more money for your labor, but rather let your silence and hard work be evidence enough of the value you bring the firm. Let the Lord do His work and don't get out ahead of Him; He'll supply all your need according to His riches in glory in Christ Jesus without you ever having to speak on His behalf.
7. Seventh, divert praise and accolade away from yourself and redirect it to others, especially Christ. You'll get plenty of respect and honor without you taking it for yourself, trust me. Others who are less fortunate in many ways need the chance, and while Jesus doesn't need it, He deserves it.
8. Eighth, always do more than what's expected of you, even if it's not on your job description. Exceeding expectations and going above and beyond is merely modeling what Christ did for you.
   
9. Ninth, walk away from work at the end of the day and leave it there. I can assure you it will be right where you left it the night before when you return in the morning. There's always enough work to fill a 24 hour day, seven days a week, but the discipline of knowing when enough is enough for the day and engaging in other priorities while outside of work is paramount to your health and happiness, not to mention that of your wife's and children.
10. Tenth, and finally, always remember that people are more valuable than things, even intangibles. There's two things that will last into eternity future, the souls of mankind and the Word of God. Everyone's immortal. Everything else you see will one day be incinerated. Love them, Austin, love them.

That's all the wisdom I possess my son, to the extent you want to even call it that. These are my prayers for you, and I know Mom shares in them with me. This is a joyous, exuberant day, and our hearts are bursting with love, affection and overwhelming pleasure at the grace displayed in your station of life.

Emptied of words,

Dad (& Mom)

The Color Poppy

Poppy flowers, to the best of my knowledge, come in one primary shade of color, orange. (Although I have seen a variant of them in other pastels, but they're not nearly as common in our neck of the woods, nor are they as beautiful in my opinion.) Most commonly they're bright, delicate and prolific during the Spring months of the year. These adjectives properly convey our little Poppy-flower, but I can assure you that she's not prolific; there's only one Poppy Mae Zu Qiao, and she's a Kruggel. Her true colors began to shine about six months after we adopted her, which is actually about the same amount of time it took for Willow to fully blossom as well. Poppy is sweet, adorable, funny, tender, loving, and sensitive. She's also a lot of other things that are not quite as pleasant, but I won't mention those here; besides they're the same unattractive things we can all be from time to time.

This last piece of artwork from Annie displays some of the varied faces of our little pop-tart. One of her most defining facial features is her eyes. They're unusually round, but also dark, brown, and glossy. She makes excellent eye-contact when you're talking to her and she's good at communicating with them, both out of sincerity and sometimes with ulterior motives. When she laughs really hard they almost close entirely. She also sleeps with a portion of her eyelids open, which is a little bizarre to see. Regardless, they're always captivating to us, and they're what drew us into her the moment we met her. I think Annie's done an exceptional job of capturing some of her different looks with her eyes in this drawing. I also love the center faces of Annie and Poppy together; they love each other immensely.

Back to the color motif, Poppy has brought a whole new meaning to the color orange for us. As it's a blend of the primary colors of red and yellow, so is Poppy. Red is stimulating, exciting and attention gathering. In China, red represents the uniform color of the national flag, and also symbolizes the primary element of fire, the direction South, and the season of Summer. The color yellow on the other hand shines with optimism, happiness and creativity. In China, the color yellow represents the primary element of earth, and is also the center of all directions (whether North, South, East or West). So mixing the meanings of these two colors together gives us the name of a little girl from China that is all of these things and more. She's the perfect blend, stirred together by the perfect Artist.

The color Poppy is perfectly providential.

Tom (& Victoria)

Ladybugs

Poppy's now only four years old, but it feels to us like she's experi- enced more in four short years than we have in a lifetime. Her story of begin- nings started before the foundations of the world, but her entree onto this small speck of the universe began just days before 2005. Born in a small village several hundred kilometers north of Guangzhou in the southern province of Guangdong, China, she lived among some of the last remaining "true Chinese", meaning her minority tribe still wear the traditional apparel of what most westerners think of when Chinese wardrobes come to mind. You know, the round, coned-shaped straw hats, wraps with colorful seams, thong sandals raised off the ground with wood platforms, etc... Barret and I know this for certain because we visited her "finding spot" some eleven months ago and were amazed by what we saw. Incredibly terraced hillsides, extensive farmlands plowed by oxen, primitive tools, and small shacks serving as homes only partially describe her homelands. (View "Pathway to Poppy's Finding Place" on the right hand column of this blog, about halfway down the page to see pictures.) It's believed she was placed on some steps at a busy intersection of the village when she was about six months old. When found she was immediately rushed to the nearest authorities and they turned her over the the social welfare institute of China. After receiving a physical examination her birthday was estimated, but it was evident she was sick with a hole in her heart (more than emotional). Admitted to an orphanage about 90 kilometers outside of Guangzhou, she stayed there until flown to Beijing where she received open heart surgery for her medical condition. Every time we change her clothes we're reminded by her large scars on her chest of the mercy and grace shown to her at this early stage of life. After a long stay in Beijing, she returned to her orphanage where she was housed with several others, many sick and some of which may not be with us today. We visited that orphanage and what we saw ripped our hearts out. She eventually ended up in our arms, scared out of her mind, quivering lips and rivers of tears streaming down her face, but she finally landed in a spot that she could call "home" whether she was ever able to comprehend it or obviously know the word. There's much more to tell about Poppy's journey, but it would take a separate blog to chronicle it all. 

For some reason that I'm not fully educated on, ladybugs are a symbol of good luck to the Chinese. And in the adoption world they're a symbol of just that, adoption. They certainly are cute little creatures, and can do a serious number on aphids.  (Wish I had a gazillion of them now for my roses.) Well, Annie tried to capture the essence and significance of the ladybug in this art piece (above) where the bug is busily traversing its way away from Poppy, leaving her past behind as she watches it buzz off into the distance. She's wearing her ladybug galoshes and standing under her favorite umbrella waiting for brighter weather while the spring showers water the poppy seeds that are ready to blossom. The winds are taking her sour memories away and blowing new life into her being. For us the ladybug is not a lucky charm, but a providential parable, and it's symbolism of adoption can remain so knowing that adoption has much greater significance in the spiritual realm of eternity.

Poppies are in full bloom around our neck of the woods right now. I see them often when out on a run, driving through the back roads, or walking through the neighborhood. They're a bright spot of color after a long winter's season of rain and gloomy skies. And this is precisely what Poppy has been to all of us Kruggel's. God turned our mourning into laughter, and we're still laughing almost three years later.

Loving Ladybugs,

Tom (& Victoria)

Bicycles & Bodies

There are literally millions of bicycles in China. In fact, there are about as many bicycles per household in China as there are cars per household in the United States, and perhaps more, especially in the urban areas of the country. Then do the math; about 300 million people in the United states verses 1.3 billion in China, and then consider the relative land mass of each country. (This is all changing as more households are owning cars; purchasing a car in China is about the equivalent of the "American Dream" of owning a home. It's a little sad because bicycles give China, and other countries like it, some identity and charm.) During any rush hour in a major metropolitan area of China you might find a sea of bicyclists commuting from one place to another, mixed in with cars, buses and taxis, all driving frighteningly within inches of one another. For foreigners like my family and me, it looks like a zoo out there, especially in cities like the capital, Beijing. In reality, it's organized chaos.

Every time we've ever been to China we always route through Beijing because we have friends and colleagues that are nationals and live there in the city. We're especially fond of our dear Madam Cui and Mr. Huang, both Hines employees (the company I work for) that live in the capital city. They've taken a real liking to Poppy and our family (they haven't met Willow yet). In fact, Annie traveled there alone one time (we were so proud of her) to serve on a mission project and Madam Cui and Mr. Huang hosted her for several days. They're so sweet, hospitable and loving, typical of the Chinese culture that puts us to shame in so many of these ways.

Here in this drawing from Annie you can see a sketch of Madam Cui holding Poppy, buried in the foreground of thousands of bicycles. Every bicycle has an owner, and it's hard to believe someone could actually identify and find their bike when its time to go home or run an errand. Gee whiz, I have a hard time remembering where I parked my car in a parking lot when there's only 100 cars in it. But they do and they mosey along their merry way after hopping on the seat. Likewise, every person on the face of this plant has or had a mommy and a daddy; they are or were loved by someone. To us, mere strangers, they're simply people among the throngs of millions, but to someone (or someones) they are identified and belong. It's hard to imagine that anyone could leave one behind and go on with life as if they never existed. It's not as if they were a bicycle or something. But such is the saddened case for so many, and not just in China but across the entire face of our planet. ~143,000,000 orphans and foster children; it's unconscionable! It should not be this way. But to our Lord they're not just another body, not just another mouth to feed, but a beautifully crafted image of Him, loved and cared for by the Father of all fathers. He has deep compassion for their loathed estate, and will not forget their plight.

I don't think I'll ever ride a bike the same. Each time I hop on one I will be reminded that it's not just a bike, a fun ride or a mere means of transportation, but representative of another lost child that needs a home. That will cause me pause to pray. Who knows? Perhaps they'll be found in the masses and once again belong.

Swimming in a Sea of Souls,

Tom (& Victoria)

Good & Perfect Gifts

So with that brief interlude from my last post about "Embracing Accusation", I'm back to posting Annie's next art piece about the lost children in China and our journey to find Poppy.

The Great Wall of China is indis- putably one of the greatest wonders of the world. It was first construct- ed almost 3,000 years ago and stretches over 4,000 miles, comprised of about 10,000 watchtowers. It took 1,700 years to fully build, maintain and renovate it to what it is today (even though much of it is now rubble). More than a million people died while constructing the first 3,000 miles of the wall. The bricks themselves are an engineering marvel, able to withstand over 1,000 pounds of pressure per square inch. It ranges in width from 15 to 30 feet, and averages about 25 feet high, spanning some of the most rugged terrain in the country. It is truly a sight to behold, and something the people of China are rightfully proud of. The first time I saw this magnificent structure with Victoria I was awe struck. The precision of the construction and the beauty of the architecture against the backdrop of China's mountainous peaks threw my mind into a tailspin of wonder. I felt it was perfectly crafted. It is indeed good.

The imagery in this drawing (above) of The Great Wall by Annie is also quite intriguing as I feel it captures the good and perfect nature of God's gifts to us. For those of you that received our announcement a few years ago about Poppy's adoption into our family, you know that we chose James 1:17a as our theme verse to give thanks to God. It states, "Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights." (Also translated into Chinese characters on Annie's drawing.) I envision Jesus stepping down these stairs on The Great Wall with Poppy in His arms, preparing to greet us in the watchtower. She's every bit of perfection and every bit of goodness, being created by the Father of heavenly lights. With crying baby in tow, and an ever-so-happy grin on Jesus' face, we receive her with joy and tears, as we have all of the children God has given us. Turning and walking back up the stairs, He looks over His shoulder as we venture down the steps in the other direction and eventually fade off into the hillsides of another country.

The good and perfect gift of Poppy (and Austin, and Annie, and Barret, and Willow, and even Meagan, and Victoria to me and me to her), make The Great Wall seem like a petite partition. What man has created, as awesome and seemingly miraculous as it is, pales against the wonder and splendor of His created images, especially those given to us while traversing the terrain of this temporary territory.

Tom (& Victoria)

Embracing Accusation

I'm sorry, but I have to already deviate from my intention to write a collective series of posts about Annie's artwork as I've been interrupted by a new song introduced to me by family and friends. I simply cannot get it out of my head. I heard it for the first time on my iPod while on a worship run two days ago, I heard it again yesterday (several times) on another worship run, and I just heard it again this morning. I share this (sung by Shane & Shane), entitled "Embracing Accusation", with the hope that it's as meaningful to you as it is to me. How often I hear these words racing through my mind, preached by the tempter, and how often I need to be reminded of the essence of this truth as presented in this song: (Victoria, I told you I'd share this song with you last night, but never got around to it, so... here it is.)

This reminds me of a poem I wrote a few years ago:

"No Condemnation"

(Romans 7:21-8:1)

New dawn of sun overcoming the curse,
His Word rejuvenates soul with verse.
Passion abounds to rest and nurse,
Supple breast of the God of the universe.

Winds of day burn candle wick dim,
Contemplation of self and pleasure of sin.
Bleakness of storm grows weary and grim,
Discouragement overflows from heart within.

"Condemnation!" Cries spirit of death;
"Christ paid a price, but not for every breath.
God's freedom and liberty are shallow in depth;
His love for thee has limited breadth."

Darkness looms on horizon of life,
Battle is fierce against sharpest of knife.
Temptation to reign brings sorrow and strife,
Sin's wretchedness stings like swath of a scythe.

"Condemnation!" Cries spirit of death;
"Christ paid a price, but not for every breath.
God's freedom and liberty are shallow in depth;
His love for thee has limited breadth."

Setting sun draws day to a close,
Reflections thereon ponder humble repose.
Where shall one turn after failing His pose?
To the Master Designer of the most exquisite rose.

Hope of inheritance presses thee on,
In spite of weakness and frailty belong.
His burden light and soft yoke upon,
Humble servant at the foot of His throng.

"No condemnation!" Cries Spirit of breath;
"Christ paid it all, through sorrow and death.
Freedom and liberty that knows no depth;
His love has bridged an unsearchable breadth."

No condemnation,
Christ paid it all.
No condemnation,
Secure from the fall.

Jesus Saves! Alleluia!

Tom

Fingerprints of the Lost Children in China

I'm going to attempt to write a short series of blog entries on what I consider to be remarkable artwork sketched by my daughter, Annie. She submitted a few pieces to her professors at Cal Poly that reflect upon her journey to find Qing Zu Qiao (Poppy Mae) in China. When I first laid eyes upon these creations my heart was moved and I caught myself with a lump in my throat. Annie captured the essence of true art in these drawings, letting her hands be guided by her soul and thereby penetrating the psyche of others.

This piece of artwork is the first of many, entitled "Finger- prints of the Lost Children in China". Annie remem- bers our first flight across the Pacific Ocean to this foreign land as an entire family. We were numbered at five back then, and were so excited and scared at the same time. And the numbers of children without mommies and daddies in this country alone is staggering, over 13,000,000. So, literally, their fingerprints are scattered throughout the terrain, from coast to western border and highlands to lowlands. And here we were, five little foreigners ourselves traversing into a sea of 1.3 billion people to find one tiny girl but fifteen months old in order that she might not be lost any longer. What an honor, what a privilege to even be permitted onto this foreign soil in the first place, and then to take one of their own that we might be blessed? They were so kind, so gracious to give us one of the greatest gifts of all time. We'll forever be indebted to the country of China, it's government and the generosity of their culture.

For those of you that know our story, you also know that this trip was not without hardship. In fact, the experience was without question the most trying of our entire lives. We hope to never have to go through something like that again, and we hope no one else has to undergo what we went through. But if we had to do it all over again, meaning that we'd have to endure the heartache to its highest degree in order to gain what we did, I don't think there's a one of us that would balk at the travails. Love is risky, love is hard, love is scary, and love is painful. But love is also rewarding, love is easy, love is peaceful, and love is healthy. In fact, apart from it existence itself would be meaningless and hopeless. And if there's one thing we've learned from Poppy, among the countless, it's that we were created to give ourselves away. Every morning I wake up and see her perfectly precious face sleeping next to Victoria's I'm reminded of that. 

So the next time we're called to venture out and put our lives into the hands of another in order give ourselves away and find a lost soul, I pray we're bold enough to take the risk to gain a reward that will be stored up in heaven. When we get there we'll lay it at the feet of our King, Jesus.

Leaving our own fingerprints,

Tom (& Victoria, & Austin, & Meagan, & Annie, & Barret, & Poppy, & even little Willow)

It's Raining, It's Pouring

While it's not raining or pouring droplets of water from dark, gray clouds, gifts are showering down upon Austin and Meagan from friends and relatives all around. After returning from our mini-vacation/celebration in Santa Cruz on Tuesday night, we spent a good part of our time from Wednesday through Friday preparing for Meagan's wedding shower at our home. With each passing day drawing us closer to the big event on Saturday, we could see that the weather was becoming more and more "Spring-like", and it certainly did not disappoint. With temperatures in the high 70's, without a cloud in the sky, about 30 ladies descended upon our doorstep around noonish to celebrate with Meagan the joy of preparing for a future with Austin.

The boys (Austin, Barret, Eric - Meagan's Dad, and I) all managed our tasks in the morning by cleaning up the yard, setting out tables, planting some fresh flowers, etc... and then we stormed out of there right before everyone arrived to head up to Napa and play some disc golf. We had a wonderful time in equally perfect weather and scenery, but poor Barret wasn't feeling well from a flu bug he caught the night before. He thought he could power through it but ended up heading back to the car after the third "hole" (chain-link stanchion) while we played through the rolling, oak-tree spotted hillsides of the golden California terrain. By the time we got back to the house a little after 5:00 p.m., everyone was rather pooped out and we just sat around and reminiscenced about the day. The girls were excited to show the boys the "loot", especially Meagan who couldn't wait to share the exuberance of her day with Austin. They were so cute together as Meagan meticulously handled every gift with loving care and explained to Austin who it was from and how useful it might be in their new home. Later on that night we all sat around a little fire in our back-yard, under perfectly clear stars, and enjoyed a glass of wine with the Kirkpatrick's. It was an absolutely stupendous day.

On Sunday after church, we helped Austin and Meagan pack all of their gifts, together with a thrift store dining room set they found in Santa Cruz, into the bed and cabin of Austin's truck before they headed back to San Luis Obispo. We laughed after we finished loading everything up as it sort of looked like a scene from the Beverly Hill Billies. Somehow they managed to get it all in there and safely arrived down south without losing one item on the long trek back. Victoria and Meagan briefly chatted on the telephone while they were driving south and both agreed that it was a bit depressing to see the glory of the week come to an end. Even Poppy said it was sad to see all of our company leave. We feel honored that our home and family are bonds that are difficult to separate by physical distance.

We're now back to our smaller gathering of five in the Kruggel household, ready for the next wave of revolving door changes the Lord brings into our paths. As tiring as it all is, I don't think we'd want it any other way.

Showered Upon with Grace,

Tom (& Victoria)

Grateful for the Greatness of God's Grace

He did it! Austin finished his graduate studies and is now officially "done" with school. (I know Dad, only bread gets done, "He's 'now officially FINISHED with school.'") All eight of us, well actually nine including Annie's friend, Brian, rendezvoused in a small cottage near Santa Cruz, California. It was a perfect, cozy little spot, set in a redwood forest next to a creek that apparently Steelhead Trout spawn in. It wasn't completely isolated because other small homes were nearby, but we didn't care. It rained pretty hard the first night which made it that much cozier as we sat around the fire and just basked in the fact that Austin no longer had to concern himself with college studies any longer. When we asked Austin how he felt, he was kind of pensive and said it was weird, almost sad in a way. I think I know what he means. Annie and Brian were pretty relieved too because they had just completed their Winter Quarter of school and have a week off before they head back to the grind on Monday. We're so proud of all our kids and couldn't be more grateful for the greatness of God's grace.

There was a moment on Monday night when we were all sitting around the dinner table, literally chewing on the fat of the calf I had just barbecued and chasing it down with some incredible Tempranillo wine we purchased from the Capay Valley a few weeks earlier, that I caught myself in one of those sort of "out of the body" experiences. Not literally, of course, but I was very contemplative as I looked around the chairs and soaked in each incredible face. My wife who was undoubtedly in her element with all of her chicks in the nest (and then some), my son Austin who's so wonderfully persevered through almost six years of university life, my future daughter-in-law Meagan who's already brought so much joy to our family, Annie who's as nutty as ever and also beautifully turned into a woman-of-God, her friend Brian who's humble commitment to Jesus is magnetic, my son Barret who's being visibly fashioned more into the image of Jesus with each passing day, my miracle girl Poppy who so unexpectedly entered our life and has given us new meaning to family, and the ever energetic Willow who none of us can seem to get enough of. These thoughts ran through my head, almost like a movie scene, and then I silently said to the Lord, "I don't deserve this, but I'm o' so very grateful. Your hand has clearly molded and shaped something remarkable here. Thank you." I never said anything to my family about that moment, but I sincerely think it might have been one of the most contented experiences of my life. 

Can it get any better? The amazing thing is, yes, it can. Whether I'll see another day on earth tomorrow doesn't really matter. I'm full and the future is brighter beyond the horizon than I could ever earthly imagine. 

I'm excited,

Tom

Rites of Passage

It's the beginning of the end, so to state. Meaning, Austin's now in his last days, literally hours of completing his undergraduate and graduate level college studies at Cal Poly San Luis Obispo. In fact, by 10:00 p.m. tomorrow he'll finish his last examination in his just-less-than six year span at the university and then it's hats in the air, figuratively (maybe literally too). There's little rest for the weary though because he's still got so much to do to prepare for the wedding (together with Meagan) and gearing up for his first official post-graduate job in Colorado. There's a gazillion details to consider and take care of, not the half of which I'm sure Victoria or I have a clue about. Things like packing up his stuff, budgeting for the future, closing out collegiate details, establishing utilities at his new home, etc...

For me this all hit "home" the other day when I had to remove him from my insurance plan now that he's no longer going to be a "dependent". Navigating through all of the self-guided internet screens with my insurance carrier and checking him off the medical and dental plans sort of caused me to choke up a bit. In some respects it's like a rite of passage. I mean as long as he's been dependent upon our family for his sustenance (uh, that would be his whole life) he's been linked up to us in more ways that I had imagined. Usually whenever I think about "leaving and cleaving" (cf. Genesis 2:24) I envision it from the perspective of the one leaving and cleaving. But the verbs have an attachment to something else; you can't do either without a connection to another, and that other in this case of "leaving" happens to be Victoria and me. So from the perspective of the ones being "left", it leaves a hole, a vacuum of sorts. We're gaining a beautiful daughter-in-law which helps fill the void, and the peace of knowing that this all is perfectly providential fills in the rest. I'm happily afraid there's going to be a lot of leaving and cleaving going on in the next 60 to 90 days.

We're overjoyed for Austin and Meagan and these new chapters of life they're entering into. A stepping stone from one block to the next will involve us celebrating the completion of Austin's studies with all eight of us in a cottage near Santa Cruz for the next few days. We'll relax and reflect, eat and sleep, hike and explore, and talk and pray.

Stepping into the next chapter.

Ganbei! (Cheers!)

Tom (& Victoria)

Crazy Love

The other day I came home from work and noticed a book sitting on the counter I'd never seen before. It was a paperback with a bright red cover entitled "Crazy Love", written by Francis Chan. (Francis Chan is a relatively young pastor of a large church in Southern California, Simi Valley, called Cornerstone Church. I first heard about Francis Chan from Austin, Annie and Meagan who heard him speak at one of the Passion Conference's they attended.) When I asked Victoria where she found the book, she explained that she read about it from one of the blogs she follows on a regular basis (called "The Journey", reflections from Amazima ministry; a link to which is posted in the right hand column of our blog). She bought two copies of the book at a bargain basement price thinking that it might be nice to read it together. Victoria also knows that I'm prone to steal books that she's in the middle of reading because her enthusiasm about a book tempts me to grab it from her when she's not looking so I see what it is that's so enthralling. She finds my bad habit to be fairly irritating, so this time I guess she was going to head it off at the pass.

By yesterday morning I was already into Chapter 3 and captivated by this pastor's simple love for Jesus, spelled out in terms and a language that's fresh and refreshing. Chapter 3 is entitled "Crazy Love", obviously the title of the book. But what's so crazy about it? And what love is he talking about? Well, last but not first, it's God's love over us, but it's also our love over Him. And it's crazy because His love toward us is, as Francis terms it, "insane" (incomprehensible), and likewise our love over Him should be crazy and "insane". He likens God's love toward us much as that of a father over his own children in the sense that he'd do anything for them, even die, to keep them resting in the security of their father. In fact, Francis has a web link that highlights his book wherein one can watch and hear him speak about each chapter, and on this particular chapter (#3) he has one of his little boys resting in his arms while comfortably seated on a couch, presumably in his home. This scene demonstrates in a very tangible way the very love God has over His children.

http://crazylovebook.com

This struck me because I know I feel that same way about my own children (all five of them) and I know it's the way my parents feel about me, but I don't often think of God's love over me in that way. While it's not a perfect comparison or analogy, I think it's about the best one I can identify with on a personal level. There's a part of me that says to myself, "This is pretty basic, Tom. I mean, you're just now coming to this realization after all these years?" Yes, and no. Sometimes you just need another angle to view what you've seen and known all along to focus anew on what was always there. I've read before from one of my favorite (but now gone to be with the Lord) Christian writers, A. W. Tozer, "What comes into our minds when we think about God is the most important thing about us..., and the most portentous fact about any man is not what he at a given time may say or do, but what he in his deep heart conceives God to be like." I'm hopeful that revisiting God's Word through the lens of Francis Chan's book will help me see God's love, among other things, much like an earthly father's love over his own.

Desiring Crazy Love,

Tom

At the Cross

Crisp Spring air, blue skies with streaks of white clouds patterned as stripes, calm bay waters, and the sun's rays angled at about 60 degrees created a setting that was screaming out to go for a worship-run today. I love my worship-runs; iPod in tow loaded with some of my favorite Christian artists' songs and the simplicity of running shoes, shorts and a t-shirt. That's all I need and I feel like I'm entering into a presence with God that cannot be duplicated anywhere else. Not only do I require the exercise because I'm sedentary at work all morning, but at about the noon hour I'm ready to "depart to the 'mountain' to pray" (Matthew 6:46b).

Lately I've been feeling rather melancholy about the world's injustices toward the helpless, noticing more than usual the ravaging effects of sin upon mankind. My readings, encounters with strangers, thought processes, and general spiritual condition have all directed me to mercy. With that pressing upon my heart, I just had to get out and ponder these things while on a worship-run. What I really felt I needed was a good dose of sensing the presence of God's love. God met me there and drew me in. Several songs entered my earshot while panting for air and pacing myself at a cadence that resonated with the tempos. But one song jumped out at me and I just kept hitting the repeat button every time it came to a close. It's entitled "At the Cross", sung by Hillsong.

I'm in a good place right now, even though I feel blue. It's a wintry season in the midst of Spring. He's pruning and blowing the leaves off my limbs. I wonder what shape He'll craft, and what blossoms will bud.

In His Love,

Tom

Olfactory Spring

Not too long ago Victoria was turned on to a pretty remarkable deal by a good friend of ours from our church where organically grown farm fresh produce is delivered right to our doorstep once every two weeks. It's surprisingly affordable compared to store bought produce, especially when you consider the time saved and the unbelievably superior taste of the food (not to mention the organic health of the product). Victoria is over-the-moon about it; in fact, one day when the box of produce was delivered to our front door she couldn't wait to show me how wonderfully packaged the fruits and vegetables were, and also how fantastic they smelled.  Victoria is very tactile, and this gift that religiously comes to our home twice a month really satisfies that artistic side of her.

Today we all drove to the farm where the food is grown and harvested, and enjoyed an open house the owners hosted for their customers. It was a perfect Spring day, with clear, crisp and fresh air. You could eat just about anything you could pick, so we stuffed ourselves with fresh carrots, apples, asparagus, and oranges. The owners and farmers are relatively young (they inherited the farm from their mother who passed away about five years ago), and were so very gracious. We were really drawn to them. To give you a "flavor" of the farm, I quote below from an insert that came in last week's produce delivery, written by Thaddeus (one of the owners who also graduated from Cal Poly in 2003):

"The changing of the seasons is a continuous transition - it is slow, steady and ever changing. I know this about the seasons and this fact leads to the argument that the seasons don't have borders, but grey areas between each season's heart. For me, there is always a day that strikes me as officially being part of the new season.

Last week I woke up, made my coffee and walked outside to be tickled by a warm breeze. The air carried hints of green grass and almond blossoms - birds were chirping in the background. As I filled my lungs with the treat, I admired the puffy clouds that loomed over the grass-green hills dotted with silhouettes of leafless, dark oak trees. In my bones I felt that Spring had started.

The field crews made the first pass through the asparagus field. The warmer weather has triggered a few of the asparagus roots to send up shoots. The field lay dark with moisture, the beds free of weeds from the last cultivation and a few asparagus shoots sticking up from the beds in the same fashion that toothpicks would look stuck into the ground. The shoots that have emerged have not been enough to harvest, but we are expecting to start harvesting next week.

Enjoy your box this week - Thaddeus"

Well, that was our day, and it will no doubt be memorable for many years to come.

Full,

Tom (& Victoria)

Mahna Mahna

Over the Holidays Austin shared a hilarious YouTube video of a Sesame Street vignette (randomly called "Mahna Mahna") that just brought us to tears in laughter. We thought it was so cute that we shared it with Poppy and Willow, who both seemed to get a kick out of it, but Poppy certainly more than Willow. We then shared that same video with several friends of ours, including our good friends from church, the Denny's. They also found it to be quite humorous and began to glob onto the song theme much like we did. Some time had passed since we enjoyed that video with the Denny's, but when Valentine's Day rolled around they gave us a singing stuffed "animal" (more like a miniature monster, actually) that sung (Wouldn't you know it?) "Mahna Mahna"! We showed this to the girls and for the first time since we've had both of them we witnessed a role reversal between them; Poppy was enraptured, but Willow was frightened to tears. It's really quite pathetic to see Willow avoid the Mahna Mahna Monster at almost all costs, so we try not to tease her with it (although it's awfully tempting because her expressions are so dang cute when she sees it). So we decided we would use the "monster" to our advantage and put it on a shelf in one of our closets that we've been trying to train Willow to stay out of because it looks like a tornado went through there whenever she comes out. She carefully watched me place it in the closet and..., it's working.

We hope you enjoy Mahna Mahna as much as we do, and certainly a lot more than Willow does.

Mahna Mahna (whatever that means),

Tom (& Victoria)

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