Contemplating the Lord

It was early on Saturday morning that I decided to go for a walk to do what I endearingly call a time of "contemplating the Lord". The Box "R" Ranch in Oregon is one of my favorite places to do that, and it's not difficult when His handiwork is on full display in all it's glory for every sense to enjoy. Austin had ventured out just before I did to do exactly the same. We both have our favorite spot on the Ranch to intimately commune with God, and it happens to be the same place. That spot is known as "Inspiration Point". If you could see it, you'd understand how it's name was captured. The vista is right over a God-carved gorge slightly above the crosses located on the other side, all three carefully placed there by the owners, our dear friends the Rowlett's and the Randall's.

On my way to Inspira- tion Point, I thought I might run into Austin so I softly and distantly inched my way down the pathway until I could see his head peeking above the close horizon. Upon sight of him I stopped, and instead of contemplating the Lord I contemplated him. There he was, my 24 year old son, now fully grown and blissfully married, standing on the cliff's edge meditating upon my God, our God, fulfilling a vision Victoria and I had for him (and all our children) before he was ever born. I'm not sure I could have beheld a more beautiful sight even if I tried to orchestrate it myself.

Not wanting to disturb him, I took a short ninety degree turn to the south and decided to find another vantage point of the crosses from a different ledge at the top of the ravine. I eventually found one, completely out of sight from Austin and o' so stunningly perfect. Having just read earlier in the morning from the Gospel of John, Chapter 14, I decided to go back there and ruminate upon it some more. As I thumbed through the pages of my small Bible, I caught eye of a bird off in the distance that was flying over the stream below. I don't know why, but I then looked toward the east and I locked onto a treetop that was the tallest among the many. As I looked back and forth between the bird and the tree, I noticed it started to fly toward that very same tree as if it were determined to find the highest spot possible from which to survey the landscape. In a sense, the foul had the same desire as me, to contemplate the beauty of the Lord and quietly scream forth the glory of God.

Jesus said, as quoted by John, "Most assured- ly, I say to you, he who believes in Me, the works that I do he will do also; and greater works than these he will do, because I go to My Father. And whatever you ask in My name, that I will do, that the Father may be glorified in the Son. If you ask anything in My name, I will do it." Staring out over the rocky and tree studded terrain, I couldn't shake these words from Jesus out of my mind. The Spirit just kept drawing me back to them. "Greater works"? "Anything"? How could that be? Jesus, fully God, telling me that I would do even greater things, if I ask in His name and in order that the Father might be glorified in the Son? "What have I done?", I asked myself. "What could I do?", I also asked myself. I must believe by faith that what I've done from the motive of honoring God is great, even though I may not see it as such, and I must also believe that what I might do to bring honor to God could be great, even though I may not know what that is right now. So I prayed audibly to God knowing that no one could hear my voice in the midst of my isolation, no one but God, and said, "Lord, I'm too weak to think of You over myself, and I'm too weak to break myself free from serving myself, so whatever it is that You would have me do, please force me to a place where I'm helpless and dependent. I want to do that 'anything', but I don't know what that 'anything' is. Maybe I'm already doing it and don't know it. If I'm not, then please don't let me waste another day trying to find out, but rather be content knowing that I'm doing what You've asked, and patiently waiting for the next great thing for the sake of the Kingdom."

I'm not writing my thoughts as clearly as I remember them at that moment, but I do know that the Spirit was rising up within me, and I do know that I was at an epoch of connectedness to my Father. Perhaps this Thanksgiving celebration was one of the best for me; sweet times of communion with God, wonderful times of conversation around the Scriptures with my family under the warmth of a roaring fire, and basking in the virginity of land that I truly feel is hallowed. Both Victoria and I were melancholy to leave on Sunday morning, wishing we could just stay indefinitely, knowing it was a small taste of heaven. Even Austin said as we were leaving to come home, "It kind of makes me sad to say 'good-bye' to this place." We all know how he feels.

I shall remem- ber this Thanks- giving as a highlight of life. And by God's grace, there's even more, even more. It's almost impossible to fathom.

Good night for now. I'm tired and going to bed.

Thankfully in Jesus,

Tom

A Thanksgiving of Happiness

Today we head off to Oregon again for our annual and traditional family Thanksgiving celebration. Austin and Meagan flew in last night from Colorado, and Annie and Kristen (Meagan's sister) drove up from CalPOLY San Luis Obispo. They all pulled into the driveway at the same time because Annie picked up Austin and Meagan at the airport for us. What a sweet sight to see all of us under one roof again. Our house is jammed full, but it's just as it should be. We'll pack up this morning and head out to make the six hour northward journey just as soon as we can; that will be no easy feat with nine people, including two little toddlers, all crammed into two vehicles.

We love Thanksgiving, maybe more than most any other holiday, because it's relatively stress-free. No gifts to worry about, no Internet or other technological distractions, just plain good family lovin' time. And such good memories; this may be our ninth year at the Box "R" Ranch. One year ago, Austin proposed to Meagan in this very spot where we'll be, so it'll be good to remember the formal beginning of that great union too.

We have much to be thankful for, as we do every year, but we go into this season under the peaceful banner that God has gone before us, just as He does every year of our lives. But this year we've been illumined to see more of His hand in it all, or so it seems. I don't know precisely why, perhaps we're just older and wiser, but I'd like to think it's because He's given us a greater love for Him as we've worked to get out of His way and just follow His lead. The power of His presence is eerily round and about us, not to mention in us. The knowledge of this has caused us to relax in His guidance, even when it means doing really scary things.

A Thanksgiving of Happiness it shall be for us Kruggel's.

Tom (& Victoria, Austin, Meagan, Annie, Barret, Poppy & Willow, and eventually Xiao Qian), and Kristen, of course.

Fasting & Prayer for Xiao Qian

Victoria and I are going to fast and pray for Xiao Qian from sundown tomorrow night until sundown the following day. We've invited our extended family to join in with us during this day of loving sacrifice to Jesus for the sake of one of the fatherless, and we invite anyone else to join if you're so inclined. We fast and pray not because we think it will make everyone's life that much easier, but out of love and honor to our King, believing that He's pleased and will extend mercy and grace in measures He's already ordained to those who glory in Him.

Here's the e-mail I sent to my family last week:

"Dear Family,

Mom and I will be observing a day of prayer and fast from sundown Monday to sundown Tuesday to remember Xiao Qian and pray for her throughout the day. You do not have to join in but are more than welcome. We'll be praying for the following things on her behalf:

1. A peaceful entry into our family.
2. A quick and strong bond with our family.
3. A communication connection that moves through the natural language barriers.
4. A comfortable household connection with Willow, Poppy and Barret.
5. A patient, longsuffering and persistent fortitude for Mom and me, especially when we get tired and exhausted.
6. A constant remembrance of the eternal value and investment into God's Kingdom, for all of us.
7. A safe traveling journey to and from Asia.
8. A soothing and calm period for Poppy and Willow (and Barret) while we travel out of town.
9. A quick realization by Xiao Qian that we walk by faith in Jesus, and that she would be attracted to His free gift offering.
10. A love between us all that will spring from wells eternal that never run dry.

There are so many other things we can pray for, but I wanted to jot these down while I'm thinking about it. If others come to mind, I'll forward them along.

Mom and I love you so much, and we cannot thank you enough for continuing to open your hearts to the "least of these". We know it requires sacrifice on your part, and we're confident Jesus' grace will more than satisfy whatever vacuum left by stretching your heart into areas you never dreamed possible.

We love you,

Dad & Mom"

Day's are ticking by to weeks, and weeks to months, and we're quickly approaching the time when we'll embark upon an aircraft and fly across the Pacific Ocean to meet, greet and enfold Xiao Qian into our household. We want to seize the remainder of our time left before then to ensure we've done all we can to prepare for this momentous transition.

Thank you for your love and support,

Tom (& Victoria)

Xiao Qian Update

We recently received an update on our Xiao Qian from a contact that we have in China by the name of Angela. She assisted us with some initial informational contacts with Willow before we received her, and now she's doing the same for us with Xiao Qian. Angela is a lovely woman who, as a Christian, serves others seeking to smoothly usher the transition process between adoptive parents and future adoptees. We've already sent Xiao Qian one care package through Angela, and now we've recently sent another that we know reached her because of Angela's written response, copied below (Angela also shares a few more details with us about the evolution of her given name):

"Dear Victoria,

I am sorry it took me so long to get back to you. I have been very busy and was sick for awhile. I am doing great now.

I called the orphanage yesterday. The Director told me when she (Xiao Qian) entered the orphanage, Dong Guan Civil Affairs Bureau director's last name is Li. So all of the children entered the orphanage in those several years have the same family name, 'Li'. They have her Xiao Qian because she is beautiful. (Qian means beautiful girl.) Since 2006 or 2007 the children were sent to the orphanage have different family names every year. There is something like poem written with all different family names. They are taking that order. For example, children entered in 2006 have same family name 'Zhao', 2007 'Qian', 2008 'Sun', 2009 'Li', etc...

The Director keeps saying she is such a beautiful girl. I think they really like her. :)

They are going to send me a close up photo later.

Blessings,

Angela

PS: She got the care package. :)"

Victoria and my spirit's were really lifted up when we received this message from Angela. We though it might be nice to pass along these updates to all of you.

Warmly in Christ,

Tom (& Victoria)

When More Requires More

I'm not so sure Trick or Treating is very good for the soul. Or maybe it is, it's just what you decide to do with what happens to the soul in the midst of it that makes it good or bad. Teaching moments with the girls abound for Victoria and me, and taking them out to collect on their most desirous delectables serves as no exception.

Now to start off with, we've chosen to make the most of Trick or Treating rather than run and hide from it. We know that not all share in our convictions about this, and there are good reasons why men and women of faith in Jesus do avoid it all costs. But our family traditions of carving pumpkins to see which family member creates the most creative creation (Barret won with his precision Minnesota Vikings carving), decorating the house with lots of happy orange faces, and dressing up in adorable, but innocent costumes are ones we hold dear and cherish with an indelible memory. We also feel they're rather benign, and work hard not to embrace the terror and horror of what seems to be the phenomenal extremes in our culture.

This was our second season of Trick or Treating with Willow, and third with Poppy. I believe that the ages of two to five may be some of the sweetest when it comes cuteness while knocking on stranger's doors and asking for candy. Of course the adults just can't resist the temptation to give the girls, dressed in a bumblebee and fairy princess outfit, respectively, just about as much candy as their eyes desire. Victoria and I watched it countless times as we reminded the girls to always say, "Thank you" after receiving every treat. Those moments, just those alone are enough teaching moments to make it all worthwhile. I don't know that anyone can say "thank you" enough, especially at their age. And it's always remarkable how easily they forget to do so after having just been reminded only three minutes earlier while at the house next door.

Which brings me to the main point of this post; that feasting your eyes on what you desire and then even receiving the bounty of that feast often tips the scales of etiquette and service on their axis. Case in point, when the girls arrived home after filling their bags with about two pounds of candy each, they dumped all of it on the family room floor to survey their loot. I remember doing that as a young boy and just being amazed that I might have enough candy to last into eternity. Victoria and I usually let them eat one or two pieces before they go to bed that night, and then we put the rest of it away until the next day. Waking up the next morning, both Poppy and Willow couldn't wait to get their hands on their bags of candy to see once again what they had garnered the night before. While getting ready for church, I let them dump the candy out on the floor again and then put each piece back in the bag from which it came. After leaving them alone, Poppy sauntered back into the bathroom where I was shaving and showed me her bag, but I noticed it was overflowing, with candy literally falling out on the floor because it was so stuffed. I asked her if that was all her candy, and she nodded and said it was, and then quickly caught herself and said that Willow had given her some of her candy. When I asked Poppy if Willow gave it to her or if she took it from her, she corrected herself and said that she took it from Willow. Another teaching moment! I knelt down, looked into those glassy, deep brown eyes like Victoria and I have so many times, and reminded her that if Jesus did what she did, then we wouldn't have Jesus at all because He gave away everything He had that we might have Him. A hard thing for a four year old to fully grasp, I'm sure, but she seemed to be genuinely convicted, if not by the Spirit then by my tone and her own conscience. So I then took her hand, walked back into the bedroom where Willow was totally unaware of being completely bamboozled by her older sister, and told Poppy to apologize to her little sister and then help sort the candy so they each had equal amounts. Dumping all the candy on the floor and mixing it up, I showed her how to find two of each kind and put one in Willow's bag and then one in hers. That seemed to work well, and they were both so happy playing the "sharing game". Of course, five minutes later I noticed that Poppy's bag was still heavier than Willow's, so we had to repeat the same procedure over again until Willow's bag actually had more. When it was all said and done, I think they were both rather pleased, and both that much wiser (at least I hope so).

When it comes to selfishness, Poppy is without guile; she doesn't know how to hide what's wrong. But Victoria and I know, and I think she's starting to see that little escapes our grasp. This is a good thing because nothing escapes God's grasp. We don't want any of our children to fear us, but we want them to revere us, knowing that there's infinite amounts of grace, mercy and love to dole out if they will but trust us. This image we want them to see of Jesus our Lord, and this image we want indelibly etched into their memories far more than any family tradition or scrumptious delectable.

When we receive more, we often require more. But when we realize that we've received just enough and don't need anymore, then we can enjoy the joy that we were created to crave. At Victoria's and my age, we're still trying to remember that we need no more, and that giving away what little we have is greater than any delectable this world has to offer, even infinite amounts of candy.

Requiring no more,

Tom (& Victoria)

Streams of Consciousness

[I must warn you that if you choose to read this it may make little sense to you, but it makes all the sense in the world to me. I apologize if my random thoughts and streams of consciousness bore you, but I partially process by writing, and by writing I find solace. Feel free to pass on this read.]

So here I am at 35,000 feet, flying over the Rocky Moun- tains en route to Char- lotte, North Carolina for a business trip. I’m surrounded by people, all destined for the same place, sitting so close and side by side, yet distant strangers that I will probably never see again in this lifetime; seems odd. Looking out the window I see the snow capped peaks, beautifully and radiantly reflecting the sun’s unobstructed rays. Glancing upward I can also see a contrast of the darkest shades of blue that lead to an expanse that blows my mind if I contemplate it very long.

I just shot Austin and Meagan an e-mail that they won’t receive until I land, letting them know I know they’re somewhere down there in my eye’s shot; I’m so close and yet so far. Wish I could swoop down and just drop in on them; a happy and glorious vision.

I’ve been thinking a lot and journal- ing lately in what I call “Grains of Grace” about my purpose, my calling in life. We all seek to know and understand with full and complete clarity what that is. There is certainly a universal and overarching mission for all of mankind, and without question in my own mind it’s to live honorably before God in order that all honor be directed away from us and toward Him (cf. Matthew 22:37; Mark 12:30; Luke 10:27). It never ceases to amaze me just how difficult that is. I, for one, constantly want to be my own god in order that others might honor me, thereby deflecting what’s due my Creator and bouncing it back in my direction. One of my greatest sorrows is that I’ll wrestle with this for the rest of my life, and yet one of my greatest joys is that God’s illumined me just enough to both realize and see it for what it is, dishonor in its purest and most raw state.

But beneath that paramount destiny, there’s a derivative vocation that I believe each of us is also called to fulfill. I also know this to be true because in the tapestry of God’s design He’s fulfilled the fullness of His image in His image bearers by granting each a measure of giftedness to be exercised while there is breath and while there is day (cf. Romans 12:6). He could have given every person the complete and perfect measure of His image, but He chose to save that for one, The One known as Jesus, His Son. So while I possess His image, it’s stained and it’s tarnished. Thankfully He sees me through the tinted lens of Jesus’ red blood which corrects that blurred image into one that’s righteous. And when all of His image bearers are functioning as they’re designed, in community with one another, then the harmony of their orchestration echoes the heavenly honor originally created in each of us.

But getting back to that special, unique giftedness that He’s granted unto me and me alone; what is that, and how is it to be fleshed out for the remainder of my life? Lately I’ve been getting on my knees in the early morning, while Victoria’s on her brisk walk and the rest of the family is sleeping, to beg God that I wouldn’t let one more day, one more hour, one more minute or one more second be wasted into something that doesn’t last for eternity. I’ve lived more than I’ll live, and the hourglass of life has more sand in the bottom than it does the top. Once a grain falls through the slender orifice it cannot defy gravity and re-enter the upper half. So in my prayers God has opened my eyes once again to the call of Jesus, the perfect image bearer, which is also my call, my vocation. And what is that? Sacrifice and surrender. If “the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve” (Mark 10:45a), then so should the sons of God not come to be served but to serve. My joy is complete in sacrifice, and my purpose is fulfilled in surrender. This is true for not only the redeemed, but also partially for the unregenerate. I look around and am astounded by the number of philanthropic and humanitarian organizations seeking to do good for others out of sacrifice and surrender. This, too, reflects the image of God. But I also live in a dualistically sinful culture that constantly contravenes and deforms that charitable DNA God’s placed in the fiber of my sinew. The extremes of selflessness and selfishness are not only dichotomous, but puzzlingly dissonant.

So now I feel as though I’ve got my primary and secondary callings defined, they’re elementary really; (i) the honor of God and not myself, and (ii) the sacrifice and surrender of self. Now, in sacrifice and surrender I honor God, provided my heart seeks to do so out of love for Him, but just how shall I sacrifice and surrender? Into what shall I do so? My family, my church and my work for sure, but is there yet something more, something even more specific? This is what I’m praying for, and this is what I hope God reveals to me soon. Maybe I’ve already found it and don’t know it. That wouldn’t surprise me in the least.

Walking down a sidewalk to meet with some friends for dinner last night I said to God, “This is great, Lord. In fact, it doesn’t get much better than this. I have a chance to be with two men I love, and we get to spend time investing into one another over a delicious meal and working through things that will last into eternity. I cannot think of a better way to spend my time right now. Thank You for granting me this privilege, but more importantly thank You for allowing me to see the glory of this opportunity for what it is, and not for what it isn’t.”

These are crazy thoughts, I know, and one’s that mean more to me than to anyone else. Typing this out like this helps so much. I suspect Victoria and my older children understand and identify with what I’m writing. (‘Thank you my dear family for being so patient with me.’)

Searching for that ultimate sacrifice and service in and through Jesus,

Tom

It's Just A Little Bit Different (& Sweeter) Each Time!

So each time we do this, you know "this adoption thing", it's just a little bit different; different across so many fronts. First of all, we're a little sheepish about wanting to talk about it because Victoria and I are so concerned that we're drawing attention to ourselves, which quite honestly is the very last thing we want to do. Our desire to love an orphan into a home because we have a home and because the Lord has placed a very special burden on our hearts. If we could do it in secret, we would (although we desperately need all of you). On our first adoption, we wanted to tell the whole world, again not because we wanted the attention, but rather our exuberance just couldn't be contained. Now that we're a little more "seasoned" with the adoption process, we can control our emotions and not let ourselves get ahead of where the Lord wants us to be. So we're thrilled, but have things under control. (I'm sure the Lord is laughing at that last statement I just typed.)

It's different on the paperwork side too. One would think it gets easier, and in one way it does because it's not as intimidating as the first time. But actually it's not easier because the regulations and bureaucracy escalates with each adoption. We're doing things this time around that we never had to do with Poppy, or even Willow for that matter, and it's not because Xiao Qian is older. Now lest you get the impression that I'm the one filling out all of the paperwork, let me assure you that it's Victoria. She's doing (and has done) all of the heavy lifting. All I have to do is focus on the signature line of each page, and of course pull out my checkbook. I've got the "John Hancock" thing down now.

Then there's people's reactions. With Poppy I think that people generally thought it was cute, although crazy too. I mean who in their right mind in America would ever think about starting all over with kids again? But when God grabs a hold of you, He doesn't let go until His purposes are accomplished. You can resist it, or you can go with the flow. In other words, He says, "You can make this easy on yourself or difficult upon yourself, the choice is yours." We did a little bit of both. With Willow, I think people were generally not too surprised that we'd want to give Poppy a sister, so folk's reactions were happy and supportive, but still stunned about all of this craziness. Now with Xiao Qian, all of the adoption novelty has worn off, and this concept of bringing yet another girl into the household, soon to be a family of eight (nine with Meagan), has been, well quite remarkably received with a lot of encouragement, partially because I think she's older and people get it. (Although I did have one person jokingly scream out, "What? Are you crazy?" To which I un-sheepishly responded with a smile, "Yes.") These children are not just some accessory (as one anti-adoption-er is quoted as saying), but they're the real thing, real souls. We've got but five or six years to invest into this soul while living in our home, and we intend by the grace of God to give her everything we've got. Every day counts.

And then there's the thought of where we're going to put this new family member into our three bedroom rambler home. That was easy with Poppy and Willow, but we honestly don't have all of that figured out yet. It will be fine, even if it means the little ones come back into our room for awhile, or if all three girls sleep in the same room together. (Wouldn't that be sweet?) Of course, we're really going to have to rely upon Barret even more, and I suspect he'll have a very profound impact upon his new sister, even if he doesn't realize it yet. Now that's pretty exciting.

Then, of course, we have the language barrier. No problem with Poppy and Willow because they could quickly pick up English and had barely begun to learn any Mandarin anyway. Not the case with Xiao Qian, and learning how to communicate with one another during those first few months is going to no doubt be challenging, but man is it going to be fun too.

We cannot believe that God's been so gracious to us to allow us to do this yet again. It's October, and in just about two and half months we'll be heading over to the other side of the world to welcome with open arms another father-less and mother-less child into our home. With the stroke of a pen, she'll become a Kruggel, and with a life of love she'll never be without a parent again, perhaps forever.

Thanks for reading, and thank you for your willingness to stand by us.

We love you,

Tom (& Victoria)

P.S. - The love and support of Austin, Meagan, Annie, Barret, my Sister, my Mom & Dad, Victoria's family, the Kirkpatrick's, and all our friends has been terrific and special!!! We're so grateful.

147 Million Orphans minus ONE (more)!!!

It is OFFICIAL!! We have just received confirmation today that we have been approved as the PROUD parents of yet another lovely girl from China! We cannot adequately express our JOY that the Lord has entrusted another fatherless child into our care. Fatherless No more, I should say!

It is our privilege to introduce our new daughter and sister, LI XIAN QIAO! (That's OK, I don't know how to pronounce it either!) We tentatively plan to name her Piper Joy Xian Qiao Kruggel. (Tentative because we would like to discuss this with her before a final decision is made).

She is 13 years old and lives in Guangdong Province. (This is the same province where Poppy was born). We know some things about her...

• She was abandoned on February 16, 2000, at age 4, and was then assigned a birth date of 2-15-1996.
• She lived for 5 years at a nearby orphanage and at age 9 was transferred to the orphanage that is currently her legal guardian. She has had the blessing of being fostered for the past 3 years (we do not know anything else about the foster family, etc.)
• She attends school and is reported to be a diligent student.
• She is healthy.
• Her file says this: "Li Xiaoqian is a sensitive and thoughtful girl. She is lovely, outgoing, extroverted, optimistic, polite, kind, straight, and sympathetic. Sometimes she would defend somebody against an injustice. She is kind, helpful, often shares her things with others. She is serious at doing anything. She respects the old, and cares the young, and gets along well with her classmates. Usually she loves singing and dancing. She likes to read some extracurricular books or play with friends after finishing homework."

(So, now you probably want to adopt her too!) : )

Stay tuned to our blog...we have much to say about HOW we decided to adopt another child, an "older" child, and much more. It looks like we will travel to bring her home in January as China requires us to finalize the adoption BEFORE she turns 14 which is when children "age out" or, are no longer eligible for adoption from China.

ONE less orphan, ONE more Kruggel...to share life, the Gospel, a home, brothers and sisters, life-long security, unconditional love!

Our hearts are filled with Gratitude to our Lord,

Tom, Victoria, Austin, Meagan, Annie, Barret, Poppy and Willow

I Thought You Left Us!

I remember quite vividly as a young child going to Disneyland for the very first time with my family. It was the year my Dad was serving and flying missions in Vietnam. I was either seven (7) or eight (8) years old, so my sister was probably about four (4), and my brother Rick about twelve (12) or so. We went with my relatives who lived in Southern California at the time (actually most of them still live there now). I was always a bit cautious, so the more intimidating rides were ones I had a love-hate relationship with; I wanted so badly to go on them and be brave like all of the other kids, but they frightened me to death. The ride I wanted to go more than any other was Dumbo. So, while all of my relatives and my older brother ventured off to get their thrills on roller coasters that induced positive G's on their bodies, I asked my Mom if I could go on Dumbo. She naturally acquiesced, but the line was so extraordinarily long (actually, now that I think about it, it's not that extraordinary to see a long line at Disneyland) she asked me to stand in it and wait while they went to check out the line at the Tiki Room. (I couldn't understand why then they wanted to go to the Tiki Room when they had Dumbo right there, but now I do).

Well, believe it or not, the line actually moved relatively quickly and before I knew it I was ready to give the attendant a ticket for the ride, but the only problem was that I had no one to ride with. So I sheepishly handed him my ticket and climbed aboard with a stranger approximately my age and embarked upon what I was hoping to be the thrill of my life. Problem was, I missed my Mom and I didn't know where she was. The whole while, going up and down inside that gray sculpted elephant with the controls maneuvered by my strange bedfellow because I was too shy to ask for them myself, I couldn't enjoy the ride because I was so concerned that I had lost my Mom for life. Now all I wanted to do was get off that stinking merry-go-round and find my Mother. The ride couldn't end quick enough, and as soon as it was over I casually sauntered over to the exit gate so that no one would think I was worried, and then scanned from left to right looking for that woman where all my security rode. After gazing into the crowds for what seemed like an eternity, but I'm sure was only a minute or two, I spotted her, that familiar face that brought such peace and comfort to my soul. When we reunited she had a big smile on her face and asked me how I enjoyed the ride. I worked real hard at keeping the tears inside, but they just couldn't be contained. I began to cry and tell my Mother that I thought she left without me and that I didn't think I would find her again. She knelt down to my level and said, "Tommy, I'd never leave you. You know that, right?" I shook my head in the affirmative, pressed my face into her leg, wiped my tears, and realized that all was well in the world of Tommy Kruggel once again.

I was instantaneously reminded this evening of that moment in my bubbled history when I took the girls to their AWANA (Approved Workmen Are Not Ashamed) class. (Victoria is in Denver visiting with Austin and Meagan.) Victoria and I recently enrolled them knowing that they'd thoroughly enjoy it, as did our other older children, and expectantly hoping they'd get even more immersion into the Bible than they already have. One of the things they enjoy doing most is playing on the church playground when they first arrive. It's complete with jungle-jim, slides, ropes courses and the like. I decided I would run in and get the girls registered for the evening by grabbing their name-tags and signing them in. The whole process takes about two to three minutes. When I returned to the playground I found Poppy solemnly walking around the play structures with a confused look on her face. When she spotted me she appeared very forlorn. I immediately flashed back to my Disneyland experience and asked her what the matter was while I also knelt down and looked into her eyes. She didn't say anything, and I then queried, "Did you not know where I was?" She shook her head back and forth and tried to hold back her tears, and then said with a soft voice, "I thought you left without us. Willow and I were looking for you." Of course, Willow was running around the yard without a care in the world and I'm sure didn't even notice that I was gone. I gently stroked Poppy's face and said, "Sweetheart, I'd never leave you, ever. You know that now, right?" She said she did and then tried to regain her energy level to play for a few minutes before the evening's events formally commenced.

I then began to ponder in my mind how I never, ever feel that way about my Father. You know, there's not a worse feeling in the world than to think that you've been somehow forgotten, left behind and to your own devices. But with God, everywhere I turn He's there, and I you what? I know it. Eternal security. There's not a better gift in the whole wide world. Even when I'm lost, He's there. Even when I've dishonored Him, He's still there. Even when I ignore Him, He's still there. And even when I wander away, He's still there.

Whether it's the Disneyland of this world, or the playground of my life, I will confidently look over my shoulder and see Him standing there.

In peace,

Tom

147,000,000 Orphans!

For most of us, that's just a number. For every one of those children counted among the 147,000,- 000, it's much more than a number; it's their life. I suspect few of them know how they're counted among the millions. Like most of us, they live their existence from one day to the next. But I suppose, unlike most of us, they ponder why they're unique, why they're the one's without mommies and daddies, why they must live among the throngs of others (if they're fortunate) under the care of an institution or the state. Most of these kids are survivors, hoping, waiting, believing that their future might change, that they could possibly have an existence as originally designed, with parents that love them, care for them, cuddle them, dote on them, clean them, feed them... you know, all of the things that we take for granted. But I'm tired of taking all of this for granted. I'm tired of living as if these little children don't matter. I'm tired of forgetting about them. I need reminding.

Here's a website that Victoria just turned me on to that will constantly remind me that there are over 147,000,000 orphans on the face of this planet:

http://shopoatsvallvillage.blogspot.com/

Here I can go and shop and purchase merchandise that I can place in the forefront of my vision to stir my mind toward the least of these. These items were designed and manufactured by those in villages suffering from severe hardship and wrestling with homelessness and parentless-ness. And the money expended to purchase these items goes directly toward feeding and caring for the orphans in Uganda. Victoria's already made several Christmas purchases from this site.

But there's so much more that we Kruggel's can do. I don't know what it is, but Victoria and I were chatting yesterday afternoon while sitting in the comfort of our backyard and asking what that might be. It dawned on me while we were talking that we're so fat. I mean spiritually fat. We had just returned from a great church service where we heard yet another among the hundreds of great sermons from the Bible challenging us in so many God-fearing ways. I know so much, but what am I doing? Not a whole lot in the scheme of eternity. I (we with Victoria) don't dismiss the raising of our children and the privilege of adopting Poppy and Willow, but it simply cannot stop there. We must, and we will move on and strive for more. Every day that ticks by and we haven't invested into the Kingdom is a day lost, a day gone. Vicki and I are reaching out to others in the field and asking. Pray for us; there's much work to be done and o' so little time.

Speaking of time, I'm in Houston on a business trip, getting tired and need to hit the hay. I know we've been lax writing much lately, and we hope to re-engage with more entries (for our benefit, quite frankly), but life has been awfully demanding of late. Hope to write again soon.

Warmly in Christ,

Tom (& Victoria)

"Taking Care of Little Girls Is a Lot of Hard Work"

Lot's of things happen around the house when Mom's (Victoria) out of town for a few days. Some of those things I won't post about here because, "What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas", if you know what I mean. Everything's legit, of course, but... there are just some things that Dad does (or does not do) that Mom wouldn't ordinarily do, none of which are things to be necessarily proud of. For example, I noticed that Victoria gingerly wiped Willow's sticky face last night after she'd eaten dinner. Did I ever once think to do that while Victoria was in San Luis Obispo with Annie? No, not at all. I did take the girls to the pool to go swimming however, so I figured that dunking would suffice to clean their skin off well enough over a four day period. Listen, I even took some shampoo to the pool house with me so I could wash their hair. Thinking ahead, I am.

Every time Victoria goes away for an extended period of time I have a new appre- ciation for her, and all mom's (or stay-at-home dads) for that matter. The task of raising little ones is non-stop, and exhausting work at that. Even Poppy can see and acknowledge what's only obvious to me in the heat of the moment when she will say to Victoria every once in awhile, "Mommy, taking care of little girls is a lot of hard work." Victoria always gets a chuckle out of that innocent, but sincere observation. There's little time to do much of anything at all when caring for Poppy and Willow but ensure the girls don't destroy the house, harm themselves, get overly aimless or aggressively hungry. One request leads to another, one intervention leads to another, one meal leads to clean-up and then another, one question leads to another, one changing leads to another, and one potty break leads to another. I don't think there's anything more sacrificial than being a parent. No one sees what you do, there's little appreciation, and minimal glory. These are what I love most about being a dad and a parent to five kids.

But there are things I want to do too, things that simply cannot be done when the kids are around. I have needs, I have desires, and I have goals and objectives. ("Yuck! I hate the way that sounds! O' please, you're making me sick, Tom.") In fact, I have this project that I'm currently working on that has a deadline set to it. The only time for me to work on it is in the late evenings after all of the kids are down to bed and Barret's studying for school (although he does need help with homework from time to time), and by that time I'm thoroughly exhausted. This weekend while Victoria was gone I decided I'd try to work on the assignment in the middle of the day when the girls were napping and Barret was at a high-school football game. No sooner had I sat down to get settled in than Poppy got up from her nap to ask me to help her go to the bathroom. After that was finished and I settled back down again, she got up to tell me she couldn't fall asleep. I told her that was fine and that she could read some books, which she did... for awhile. She then came out and said she was out of books, so I told her she could work (play) on the computer. I got her situated, and then sat down again to work on my goal. A few minutes into that, Poppy yelled out to tell me that the computer was broken. I got up to "fix" it and pull up her website for her (www.Disney.com). Now, after the umpteenth time, I reframed my thoughts and started to gear up again on my objective. Not more than a few minutes later Poppy walked around the corner into my eye's view and said that she was thirsty. At that moment I looked up at her, put my hands behind my head, reared back and gave a great big sigh pushing enormous volumes of air through my mouth so as a create the sound of a rushing wind. Poppy looked down at the ground, turned around and slowly walked away. My heart sunk and I instantaneously realized that I was completely in the wrong, o' selfish one that I am.

Some might think that I was too lenient in the first place. I know Poppy's intentions (or at least I think I do), and she wasn't asking for anything unreasonable for a four-year old. I sat there in my chair for awhile and decided to shrug it off and get back into my project; I figured she was going to be out of sight for awhile now that she finally got the message that she was messing with my time. But I just couldn't do it. I couldn't concentrate and my conscious, the Spirit of the living God, tugged on my heart to reach out to that little forlorn girl and give her what she needed the whole time, her Daddy. I packed my things, closed everything up, and found Poppy sitting at the computer trying to enjoy her on-line game. I knelt on two knees, turned the volume of the computer down, steered the chair in my direction so we were facing eye-to-eye, and asked her, "Did Daddy hurt your feelings?" She affirmed what I already knew was the case, and nodded up and down while gazing at me with those big, brown Chinese eyes of hers. I sullenly said, "I'm so sorry, Qiao Qiao. Daddy was selfish, and you didn't do anything wrong. Will you forgive me for thinking of myself before you?" Silent at first, she eventually said, "I forgive you, Daddy." I hugged her while she reciprocally squeezed my neck and I said, "I love you, Poppy". She said, "I love you too, Daddy". We then gleefully played together the rest of the afternoon.

I cherish these tender, humbling moments. I learned more in that brief exchange and interlude with Poppy than I could have ever learned had I been granted uninterrupted quiet time to complete my task at hand. It's good to be a parent. Who am I to be the most fortunate man on earth? (The project sat on the shelf the rest of the weekend until Victoria returned, right where it should have remained the whole time.)

Needfully instructed by a four-year-old ("Thank you, God!"),

Tom

Hair, Hair, Hair, Hair, Hair, Hair, Hair

Annie's about to start another quarter of school at CalPOLY San Luis Obispo on Monday. Victoria decided it might be a good idea to spend some stress-free time with her before studies steal her mind for the next ten weeks. I gladly agreed to stay home and take care of the Willow and Poppy, and of course Barret. I love these special times with the kids because we're able to connect in a different dimension than when their mother is around. Don't get me wrong, I am a far cry from a substitute for Victoria, and all three kids remind me of that in their own special way, especially when it comes to meal times. (Dad's cuisine is always a lot simpler than Mom's.)

There's another very practical way in which I could never make up for what Victoria does, and that' combing the girl's hair. Poppy's is easy; it's short and bobbed, so a few strokes of the comb and it falls right into place. The biggest challenge I have with Poppy's hair is making sure I put the clip in the right spot. Even then I don't think it's placed as perfectly as Victoria's.

Now Willow's hair is an entirely different matter. Whenever she wakes up from her sleep, whether night-time or a nap, we always say she looks like a dark version of The Adam's Family character "It". You can hardly make out her face with all of the hair covering her features, and it's usually a matted mess. Now "It" on The Adam's Family also had hair that covered "its" face, but it was always neatly groomed. Not Willow's. So one of my biggest fears about being a stay-at-home dad when Victoria's gone is having to take Willow out in public without her hair looking as cute as the perfect pig-tails Victoria pulls; you know, the symmetrical kind that flare out and bounce every time Willow takes a step? I'm tellin' ya, she doesn't get much cuter than that. But as Clint Eastwood once said, "A man's got to know his limitations", and I certainly know mine when it comes to the girl's hair. So I don't even try to mimic Victoria's fashion style on Willow, and I just go for the simplistic look. If I could, I'd let it flow down naturally with a little clip near her forehead to keep the hair out of her face. But that doesn't last too long with a bouncy Willow-tree, so I had to come up with a different solution. Combing the hair is hard enough because I hurt her poor little scalp with every stroke. She's brave and doesn't cry, but I know she's writhing in pain from my less-than-delicate manly ways of getting tangles out of that matted mess. Once all of the hair is knot free, I have the challenge of figuring out what I'm going to do next. Since pig-tails are out, I decided I'd try something new this weekend and I put it in a ponytail. It wasn't a ponytail made with a rubber band, but rather one pinched together with one of those ponytail clips that squeezes tight and then snaps into place. I figured I finally came up with a good solution to dealing with Willow's hair in Victoria's absence, until... she got in her car seat and decided to put her head back on the rest thereby catching the clip and pulling her hair all out of place. I give up, and have decided that she's going to have to look ragged while Mom's out. She'll remain my signature poster-child for why dad's (especially me) just can't make up for the wonder and the beauty of a mom.

Poppy's handling Victoria's absence fairly well in contrast to previous departures, but she did exhibit a morose affect when going to bed tonight, knowing it would still be another 24 hours before her favorite person in the whole wide world walked across that threshold of 15 Hartwood Court.

"Hurry Home, Sweetie! I can't comb one more head of hair."

'Hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair

Flow it, show it

Long as God can grow it

My hair."

Love,

Tom