Possible Impossibilities

Every Sunday morning after each worship service at our church men and women make themselves available to pray with those who feel they need prayer. They position themselves on one side of the platform, in the forward area of the sanctuary, waiting for folks to come up. About every third month I am one of the designates assigned to pray with folks (not a job, but a privilege). In the year and half or so that I've done this I might have had one or two people come and ask me to pray with them. I always find this odd, wondering why there are so few takers to respond to the gospel message spoken that day and ask God to change their hearts to be more like His. Perhaps more people come on the months that I'm not up front, but I don't think so. Truth be known, I seldom take advantage of it myself when I'm not the one leading prayer that week or month, probably because I find myself too busy, too distracted, or just too disinterested. Shame on me, really... shame - wasted power and wasted intimacy with Jesus that is oftentimes even more profound when in prayer presence with others that are in love with Him than when alone.

This last Sunday, however, as I stood up front with another musician from the worship team (it was my rotation for prayer), I noticed that an elderly woman that usually comes on Sunday morning for deaf interpretation (in order to worship with others) was still seated near the area where we're supposed to meet for prayer. Her interpreter, the wife a very dear minister in our church, came over and began to speak to me and my fellow band member (prayer partner). While the three of us were talking to one another, I noticed the elderly woman waving her hands and arms trying to get our attention. The interpreter turned around and began to sign with her, and then she looked over at us and said that she (the elder) wanted us to be sure to remember her in prayer because she had recently undergone cancer chemotherapy treatments and the arthritis in her hands had flared up something terribly as a side effect from the toxins. You could see each of her two crumpled hands, like cups, almost permanently molded into place with fingers dangling as if they had no mobility or flexibility at all. She went on to explain that she loves to sew and knit, and that her current condition prohibited her from doing that and even other basic, routine things necessary for life (like signing). I got the impression that she just wanted us to remember her in prayer throughout the week - not necessarily wanting prayer right then; we just happened to be in her eye shot that Sunday morning. I told the interpreter that we should just pray right now. After all, that's why we were there, and we certainly had no takers yet, nor did it look like we were going to get any. The two of us walked over, knelt down by her side, with each of us gingerly holding a hand as she held them out in front of her. We closed our eyes and prayed while she kept her eyes open so she could see the interpreter standing next to us sign our prayers in her presence. We must have each prayed for three or four minutes - tender, soft spoken prayers that just seemed to be from the Spirit. Sometimes I feel that way when I pray, not often enough mind you, but sometimes I just sense that there's something supernatural happening that God's been gracious enough to let me experience in that moment rather than my usual prayers where I don't feel any power at all. I know prayer is not all about feelings, but when you do feel His supernatural influence, why that's just a special moment with Him. All else around me seems to disappear in those instances, and this was one of them.

When we finished our prayers and opened our eyes, we both looked up at this dear soul and cold see her silently weeping tears on a face that just looked so perfectly angelic. Her mouth had the shape of a frown but signaled the shape of joy and peace. The outer corner of her eyes were turned downward, and her rosy, glossy wet cheeks glistened against the reflection of the overhead lights. Since I was already moved by the Spirit, seeing her face cracked the jar of my emotions so that the flood could spill. I couldn't help but just put my head in one hand while I held her other and cry. I cried for her because I just knew that there would come a day when her hands would be new again. I tried to envision her in heaven, with me, and in my amazement beaming with joy that what she once enjoyed so freely in her youth she could freely enjoy forever, only this time even more, and also with ears to hear and a voice to praise. Few words were exchanged after that moment, and we knelt there for another three to four minutes while she signed a few more things. We all hugged and then left for the afternoon.

So why do I post about this experience in our simple little family blog? Because few things this week have captured my heart and mind like this. I've thought about it all week long. All can think about is her face, and all I can also think about is how beautifully content I was when I was at her side. These draw me in like a magnetic pull that's simply beyond constraint. These are the moments and these are the times when I think to myself that it simply doesn't get any better than this. More than anything else in my entire life I've found myself desirous to be in the presence of those who are not among the mainstream of life. These are the ones that I often feel are manna from heaven to those like me who are gasping to be set free from all that's seemingly desirable. I know Victoria feels this way a lot; we're both wired by God in the same fashion. It's not a higher calling. No, it's the only calling for us. Sometimes we feel that we've wasted so much, seeking things here that distract us from what's coming there.

I've now finished hearing all eight (8) sermons from Brook Hills Church (referenced in an earlier blog entry), entitled Radical: What the Gospel Demands. I was reminded then and hear now the words of Jesus in Mark 10, Verse 27, when He said, "With people it is impossible, but not with God; for all things are possible with God." So what's impossible with me? The heart that forever beats for the lame, the poor, the blind, the deaf, the mute, the orphans, the sick, the widows, and the lost. These are the ones that Jesus' heart beats for, but mine is enticed and in love with the world. So I've asked God to do the impossible with Victoria and me (and all of our children) but the ever so possible with Him,... to give us more of a heart like His, but give it to us faster. I believe it's beating more in rhythm, but I (and Victoria) desire perfect synchronization. These we seek not for our own, but for His.

Hear us now, Lord.

Jesus in China (Part II)

Not long ago I made a post entitled "Jesus in China" (dated February 24th) and promised to give a follow-up, Part II if you will, of the story. So that's what this post is about. In case you've forgotten and would like to be refreshed, I've added a link (below) to the previous post so that you don't have to scroll down to find it.

http://willowsway1.blogspot.com/2010/02/jesus-in-china.html

Remember that our paradigms about followers of Jesus in China were obliterated on this last trip to Asia, and it started when Xiao Qian showed us her photo albums of western looking people described as "Bible teachers", in addition to her Bible that she pulled from her backpack that was written in Chinese characters. That all happened on the very first day we met Xiao Qian, right after we returned to our hotel room from the Civil Affairs Office in Guangzhou. Those two events in and of themselves were quite unusual, but what was even more unusual, what really blew us away was when Xiao Qian pulled an envelop out of her backpack that was addressed to her new mother and father. Inside of it was a typed letter, a few paragraphs long. And here's (certain details redacted to protect our brothers and sisters in Jesus) what was typed inside (we do not believe Xiao Qian had read the letter, nor are we sure she could have since it was in English):

"Hello Tom & Victoria,

My name is ___________. I am a (westerner) and live in _________, China. I have known your daughter for almost 4 years now. For the past 2-3 months I have tried to track you guys down to let you know there is a (westerner) here who knows your daughter. Unfortunately, she only had your first names and the state of California! And the orphanage does not give out any information, even to her.

I would LOVE to meet you guys in person! Xiao Qian has my phone # and my email address. I would LOVE to have you come to (our city in China) and have dinner in our home. I could arrange a driver to pick you up and bring you here. We live about __ hour(s) from Guangzhou. There are soooo many things I would love to share with you about your precious girl! She IS a sweetheart... which you will KNOW instantly when you meet her!

Her English is not very good at all, but I think mostly she is shy about using what she does know. I was quite surprised that she understood everything I said to her on the phone the other day. She is a little nervous about the adoption, again, I think mainly because of the language barrier. She is quite proud of you guys and your children! She has shown me both rounds of letters and pictures of the family.

I am soooo sad for her to leave but soooo happy that she is going... to a family that will love her! That is obvious through your letters. You will be blessed beyond measure with this precious girl. She lives to smile! She is beautiful... inside AND out! She has one of the sweetest dispositions of anyone I've ever met. She is one of __ orphan girls that we claim as 'ours'. I have MANY MANY pictures of your daughter that you might enjoy.

Please call me if you are interested in meeting us or her 'best' friends. The other girls will be with us most of the next few weeks as they are out of school on break. I don't mean to overwhelm you while you cherish these initial moments of getting to know your daughter, so I understand if you prefer 'not to' meet us.

________(Name)

(Address)

(Telephone Number)"

While I looked over Victoria's shoulder as she read this letter out loud in the presence of Xiao Qian, Victoria began to cry while approaching the end of it. I, too, held back tears while Xiao Qian just stood there with a sweet smile on her face. Re-typing that letter right now almost brings me to tears again, especially as I remember that special moment in our hotel room that seems almost surreal to me now.

Folding the letter and gently placing it back into the white envelop it came in, I wondered to myself (as did Victoria), "Could these people possibly be Christians? Could Xiao Qian have been exposed to the best news anyone could ever hear, that Jesus died that we might live? Could she have heard this truth all the way over here in China? " We were astonished that this person knew our names, knew our now new daughter, personally, knew her friends, knew her orphanage, knew her personality (which is spot-on), and knew of her pride to actually become a member of a family (but was a little off on Xiao Qian's English language skills, which were/are much stronger than known). Imagine our amazement as all of this began to unfold in those nascent moments of our "birth" of 13-year old Xiao Qian. It was almost as if God decided to say to us, "Tom & Victoria, I know you don't expect this, but I'm going to give you just a little glimpse into Me, My power and My love for you. You will not be able to see My face, just as Moses could not see My face but only a glimpse of My back (cf. Exodus 33:23), but I will show you a part of Myself, which is about all you'll be able to handle right now. And I will show you that I have gone before you in ways incomprehensible so that you will know beyond a shadow of a doubt that this I ordained for you and for My glory. You are about to get blown away."

Victoria then looked at me and asked me while staring directly into my eyes, "Do you think we should call these people?" I didn't hesitate and answered, "Yes, right away!" And so we did, and the response we received on the telephone was yet another blow away, which I will post about at another time.

(Trust me when I type that I'm not trying to "tease" any of you readers. There's just only so much time and energy in a day, so I'm trying to squeeze as much into these free moments as possible. Another post with "the rest of the story" will follow.)

Still blown away,

"Black Cat and Orangey Cat"

Two days ago Piper took 56, YES, 56 pictures of our two cats!!

She has pictures of them eating, sleeping, walking and RUNNING! She especially likes it if "Black cat" will come to bed when she does... she covers "BCat" up with a baby blankie and lovingly forces her to stay... pretty cute, really! Our cats do have names, but she has called them Black cat and Orangey cat so many times that our family is now referring to them by these new titles!

She LOVES these cats and believe me, they have learned to run for cover when she spots them! She is great with them. They simply are not used to this level of stardom and paparazzi!

So anyway... just had to tell ya... 56 PICTURES!

(Don't you just love digital cameras??)

Smitten by Jesus

Today I spent the entirety of my day in meetings behind closed doors in a high-rise building in Houston, Texas. This is what I was called to today, and this I did with joy and pleasure knowing there was no better place for me to be because it was ordained by God. I was away from my family who I adore, but I was with my Father who I worship, and this gave me greater solace in the absence of Victoria, Austin, Meagan, Annie, Barret, Xiao Qian, Poppy and Willow. To be truthful, sometimes I worship my family, and that is not what Jesus calls me to; no, He calls me to worship Him. Sometimes I worship my work, and that is not what Jesus calls me to either; no, He calls me to worship Him. And sometimes, oftentimes, I worship me, and that is not what Jesus calls me to at all; no, He calls me to worship Him.

I am very much caught up into myself and my identity in things other that Christ. I must confess to all of you and myself (and to God) that my identity is often defined by my family and children. It's often defined by my (our) adoptions. It's often defined by my work. It's often defined by my role in church. And for all the times that I've portrayed something about myself or our family that is anything other than the full splendor and majesty of Jesus alone, then I've robbed Him of His identification with the universe. And for all of this I must ask for forgiveness, not only from you, but also from my King. You see, I want Jesus to be everything to me. I want Him to be the only thing to me. These words are hard to type, but I want Jesus to be more to me than all my children, and more to me than my beautiful wife, and more to me than my home, and more to me than my job, and more to me than my eldership, and more to me than my checking account and all of my distracting stuff, and more to me than even life itself. It's not that I don't want to love these things, and it's not that it's wrong to love these things, but they must pale in comparison to my love for Jesus. In fact, by comparison they must almost be the opposite of love. Here's what Jesus says, "If anyone comes to Me, and does not hate his own father and mother and wife and children and brothers and sisters, and even his own life, he cannot be My disciple." (Luke 14:26) These sound like the words of a crazy man, and to most He is such. But to me they're words that taste like honey on my lips, they appear like apples of gold in my orchard of things, and they're more desirable than my next breath or hope for life if I awake in the morning. This kind of love requires great sacrifice but, as I've written about before, it's no sacrifice at all to give "what he cannot keep to gain that which he cannot lose". (Jim Elliot) I own nothing, so for me to sacrifice anything is to simply dispossess what I never had.

I am begging, pleading with God to change my (our family's) affections. I've built a temple around things that were never intended for places of adoration. Those temples need to be torn down and a new temple needs to rise, one that places Jesus on a throne, the throne, and where my family and I lay prostrate before Him drowning in a flood of tears; tears of joy, tears of gratitude, and tears of fear. I'm asking God to give us a single affection, the same affection that Johnathon Edwards had when he penned these words of personal consecration:

"I claim no right to myself—no right to this understanding, this will, these affections that are in me; neither do I have any right to this body or its members—no right to this tongue, to these hands, feet, ears, or eyes.

I have given myself clear away and not retained anything of my own. I have been to God this morning and told Him I have given myself wholly to Him. I have given every power, so that for the future I claim no right to myself in any respect. I have expressly promised Him, for by His grace I will not fail. I take Him as my whole portion and felicity, looking upon nothing else as any part of my happiness. His law is the constant rule of my obedience.

I will fight with all my might against the world, the flesh, and the devil to the end of my life. I will adhere to the faith of the Gospel, however hazardous and difficult the profession and practice of it may be.

I receive the blessed Spirit as my Teacher, Sanctifier, and only Comforter, and cherish all admonitions to enlighten, purify, confirm, comfort, and assist me. This I have done.

I pray God, for the sake of others, to look upon this as a self-dedication, and receive me as His own. Henceforth, I am not to act in any respect as my own. I shall act as my own if I ever make use of any of my powers to do anything that is not to the glory of God, or to fail to make the glorifying of Him my whole and entire business.

If I murmur in the least at afflictions; if I am in any way uncharitable; if I revenge my own case; if I do anything purely to please myself, or omit anything because it is a great denial; if I trust to myself; if I take any praise for any good which Christ does by me; or if I am in any way proud, I shall act as my own and not God’s. I purpose to be absolutely His."

Smitten by Jesus,

Missing My Family

I am in Houston tonight on a business trip. Sitting in a loud hotel lobby bar right now all by myself trying to grab a bite to eat before I go to bed. O' how I loathe being away from my family, and o' how very sad it is to be in this sitting and watching so many people seeking what they were designed to seek, relationship and community, but with pursuits that they were probably not designed to pursue.

Well, enough about all of that. It's a real bore. What isn't a bore is what I listened to on the airplane on the way here today. Victoria asked me to check out a sermon series by a pastor in Birmingham, Alabama entitled "Radical: What the Gospel Demands". You can check it out here:

http://www.brookhills.org/media/series/radical/

She read about this on Amazima Ministries blog (link in right hand margin - scroll down to find, if interested), and wrote this to me, "I know how you like having your (and our) life CHANGED, so perhaps we should listen/watch 2gether." This is an eight part series of sermons, about one hour each, and I hardly made it through the first ten to fifteen minutes of the first sermon without being completely thrown on my back. I told Victoria that I feel like the wind was kicked out of my lungs and the new fresh air was just starting to come back in. I also told her that these may be some of the strongest, life-changing words from Jesus that I've heard in a long, long time. I'm now through my second sermon and already look forward to finding time to listen to the others. If you want to get radical for Jesus, which is what He demands of all of us who call ourselves Christians, then strap on your seat belt and get ready for your world to get rocked. Now the real question is, "What will I do with all of this?" Victoria will also listen to these sermons and we'll be seeking God's direction for us in response.

I miss my family. Victoria took me to the train station this morning, the one that gets me to the airport, after we dropped Piper off at school. Xiao Qian was so cute walking in the rain with her neighbor friend, Marissa, across the crosswalk and onto the school campus. Poppy and Willow gave me sweet hugs in the car as I said "goodbye", and Victoria and I hugged and said, "I love you". (I already said "goodbye" to Barret at the house.) Tender moments that may seem benign and routine, but meaningful to the core. These are the things I cherish.

Off to bed in preparation for a long day of meetings.

I miss you family,

My Gifts...

Hello Bloggy Friends!

This is Mama Bear! I know... you don't hear from me much. I have so many thoughts I want to share during the day when my mind is ACTIVE, but alas, my hands are FULL! : ) At night, unlike my dear husband, I have mentally shut down for the night... no energy to write, but I am so thankful that he does.

I can't tell you how many times in my almost 28 years of marriage that I have filled out the box on innumerous forms that asks me for my "OCCUPATION". Hmmmm... OK, again, "Homemaker". Although I do have a Master's degree in Christian Education, I have largely been a stay-at-home Mama since Austin, aged 24, was born. We were blessed that we could manage this in our early years of marriage and it was NOT easy, but DO-able. So, in terms of "marketable-skills", I certainly don't consider myself particularly "skilled" and I often wonder WHAT I would do if I had to return to work... my resume would look pretty bleak! : )

BUT, I have recently been ENCOURAGED that the LIFE I do have as "Homemaker" has provided me with the VERY things we have needed to adopt! I have TIME, I have the ability to listen, to drive, to fill out paperwork!! : ) To cook, to serve others by keeping our home a place of refuge and comfort... I can provide clean clothing, snacks, counsel, did I mention driving??... TIME... I can make a warm bubble bath, get a band-aid, teach children to pick up their stuff! I can pray with/for my children, teach them to love/forgive one another as I continue to learn to do the same... Well, you get the idea! Some of the VERY things I have felt "unskilled" about in the past are the VERY things that enable me to GIVE a home, a life, a future (All by God's GRACE) to children who need just THESE things!

I am SO grateful for my life as a Mother! I am so glad that the Lord has taken my "skills", my talents as it were, and is USING THEM UP for His Kingdom and His Glory. I told my dear daughter Annie the other day that I feel such a keen sense of purpose now. Yes, I also feel/felt this when I mothered my 3 "BIO-kiddos" , but that was "the next thing" in life... you know, school, get married, have children... and it is ALL so very good! But THIS time, when we decided to RE-open a whole new season of parenting, intentionally, when we didn't HAVE to, when most people our age were almost "done" with this phase... THIS season has provided the sweetest sense of purpose.

OK, time to go DO all of these things I just mentioned...Poppy is here in her Cinderella dress saying, "I'm hungry Mom". I hear my little Willow whining in the family room... : ) I give it ALL to Him. And I RE-give it frequently when my heart grows stubborn.

Have you ever considered giving a HOME to "the least of these" as Jesus calls them? Do you have "the skills"? I encourage you to consider it... not out of guilt, but because you will be so blessed as you choose to bless.

If YOU have ever considered adoption or ever WILL consider it, challenge yourself further by reading this blog post from fellow-adoptee Amy... (WARNING: this is convicting!) : )

"The Excuse"

What More Shall We Do?

This morning my family heard a God-exalting, Christ saturated sermon from an Old Testament passage that is often considered by many, including myself until recently, as a real "downer".

You may listen, if you'd like, to this sermon by clicking on the link: http://graceforus.org/resources/media/?sermon_id=98

The book of Ecclesiastes, as recently quoted on many Sundays from our pulpit, may be one of the most misunderstood books of the Bible. Ironically, I've always loved Ecclesiastes for the very reason that it's misunderstood - it deals with the real stuff of life with seemingly no answer to its deepest and most perplexing questions. But the author (the "preacher" - Solomon) does, in deed, have the answers, given by God Himself. And while the paradoxes of life and the injustices of humanity have plagued us all since the fall of man, there is good news. But where is that good news in the midst of suffering? Where is that good news among those starving for food and glamoring for water? Where is that good news among the 147,000,000 orphans scattered across the globe? Solomon had seen, just like we, "under the sun that in the place of justice there is wickedness, and in the place of righteousness there is wickedness. I said to myself, 'God will judge both the righteous man and the wicked man,' for a time for every matter and for every deed is there." (Chapter 3:16-17) So I ask again, "Where is the good news?" That God will judge. In the end, He will judge. I am not the arbiter, the mediator or the judge. I don't like what I see - the injustice, the orphans, the helpless, the hungry, the poor... but in the end, when it's all said and done, when I'm no longer here to worry and fret about these things, there will come a day that God will right the wrongs. My simple faith and trust (given as a gift to me) in the most heinous of all injustices, the Suffering Servant Jesus, is the bedrock covering that rights my all my wrongs.

"The Spirit of the Lord is upon Me,
Because He anointed Me to preach the gospel to the poor.
He has sent Me to proclaim release to the captives,
And recovery of sight to the blind,
To set free those who are downtrodden,
To proclaim the favorable year of the Lord." (Luke 4:18-19)

This sermon touched me today, more than most. No doubt the Spirit had (or has) some work for me here. It touched me because of the jolting reminder of life's injustices, but even more about what's not being done about them. I take great comfort in the final chapter that's already been written, for which I have been given just a glimpse of insight into. But for the short time being, that short time remaining in my and Victoria's lives, we are the ones anointed by Jesus. We are the ones He's left to preach the gospel to the poor. We are the ones to proclaim release to the captives. We are the ones (among so many).

There was a moment at the tail end of the sermon when it was said that we cannot adopt all of the orphans in the world (referring to Solomon's statement that he "saw the tears of the oppressed and that they had no one to comfort them;" - Ecclesiastes 4:1b). I know the context in which it was said and understand the statement for its intended meaning. Nonetheless, I heard it as a challenge, and I asked myself, "Why not? Why can't we adopt all of the orphans in the world?" We can, and we must. Not Tom and Victoria Kruggel, but all of us together. I believe that if every Christian who could would adopt one motherless and fatherless child, we would quickly see the end of this travesty. And while it will most certainly come to an end in the end, until the end we must simply press on as if it will be conquered before the end. I'm convicted, and I'm seeking.

What more shall we do? (Pray with us.)

One Month Later

Before we post a follow-up to "Jesus in China", I'd like to write a little bit about hitting our one month anniversary of our "gotcha day". This is a euphemism in the adoption world for the first day you're greeted with your new adoptive child. For us that was January 25th, just a little over one month ago. To use an often over-quoted saying, we really cannot believe that it's already been one month. In some ways it feels like just yesterday, and in so many other ways it feels like each day has lasted more than 24 hours.

This morning, Saturday, Victoria allowed me to sleep in. (I've been working my tail off lately flying up and down the coast, traveling east and so on to be involved in annual performance reviews for the approximate 425 people that fall under my supervisory purview at work. Although grueling, this is my favorite time of the work year because I get to talk about and spend focused time praising and encouraging some of the most remarkable people in world, or at least I think so. This is one of the reasons I haven't been able to post as much as I'd like.) Upon awaking and lying in bed alone, I thought about each one of my children and my wife, wondering what they were doing at that very moment. Turns out Austin and Meagan were in the Rockies enjoying an exciting day of downhill skiing, Annie was getting ready to head off to work in San Luis Obispo, Barret was at a volleyball scrimmage at a nearby high school, the little ankle-biters were up and running around the house, Victoria was trying to have a quiet time (emphasis on the word "trying" because she was constantly interrupted by Poppy and Willow), and Piper was lounging around after the little girls woke her up earlier than she really wanted (they're just too giggly and they all three sleep in the same room together - in fact, I can hear all three of them goofing around in the room across the hall right now as I type this, and it's after 10:00 this evening). As it turns out, Piper was super tired because she stayed up (much to our chagrin) until 1:00 a.m. Skype-ing with some friends in China - I think we're going to have to put some boundaries on that in the future... that's what parents are supposed to do, but we failed this time.

Knowing that we would be spending a good part of the day in the City of San Francisco enjoying the Chinese New Year's Parade (one of the largest, if not the largest in the country), we decided we would stay home for the morning and just relax a little. Not long into our relaxation mode, Piper decided to grab a piece of construction paper and sketch out a calendar for the month of February. I poked my head over her shoulder from time to time to see how her progress was coming along, never really asking her what she was doing but o' so curious to know what her intentions were (after all, the month of February only has one more day left in it). Later on, when I peered over her shoulder just one more time, I noticed she was writing Chinese characters into each of the days of the month, sentences if you will, together with simple three-pen stroke faces with two eyes and a mouth. She was uncharacteristically quiet, determined to complete her task (which is not uncharacteristic of her).

So what does all of this have to do with her "gotcha day"? Well, as it turns out Piper decided to journal the last month of her life (see picture above), and those Chinese character sentences were her paraphrased remembrances of her most significant times during each one of those days of the month. Rather than share with you our perspective of the last month, it would be better for you to know her perspective. And as it turns out, almost every face she drew in each one of the days of the month was a happy face. She had a few faces that were neither happy nor sad (straight line for the mouth), one face that was sad, and one face with tears on it. So let me explain, because she meticulously explained each day of the month to Victoria and me after she completed her journal. Almost every day has been happy, for the most part, remembering her first train ride, shopping with Annie, games with Austin, Meagan and Barret, going to parks, etc... They're event oriented, but always with family. The days where she was neither happy nor sad were days when she was either tired (had to run the mile at school one day) or exposed to a large number of new people at one time, like church or school (she does not like entering into new environments with a lot of unfamiliar people, at least not now and not here in America). Her one sad face was her first day of school (although she sort of begged to go school for days before she went), and her one day of tears was when I made an innocent faux pas that frightened her so. (I may share more about that in another post. She let it go about five minutes later after the incident, but I cannot seem to shake it so easily. Such is Piper, and such am I.)

I guess where we're coming out with all of this is that the entire month has been nothing short of pure joy, from both of our perspectives. We know how we feel, but to know how she feels, why that's a little more difficult to uncover. This calendar, this journal is the closest thing we've been able to dive into in order to know how she's viewed all that's happened to her in the last month. From this 14 year old perspective, life is pretty happy most of the time. While we know that this is part of her God-given disposition, we also know that part of God's given grace has gone before all of our family to usher this transition through the sweetness we've all experienced.

So this one month "gotcha day" anniversary is reflective of joy, and also reflective of thankfulness. Each of you have contributed to this joy through so many means, and together we say "Happy Anniversary".

Gotcha,