Our Basket

Exactly one year ago we set out on a voyage to give a family to one without. It was a scary adventure, but our constitution and drive were stronger than our fears, and our excitement and enthusiasm covered the uncertainty of the unknown. That's what faith does, and without it we were doomed to never purchase a round trip ticket to China for two with a one-way ticket to the United States for one. How God gave us such faith we can never fully know, and why He gave us faith at all remains a mystery even today.

But our faith runs much deeper than doing the unthinkable. In fact, it beckons us to put all of our eggs in one basket. That basket is the last one most would pick to stock their food while shopping in a grocery store. At first glance it's got broken wheels, holes where food can fall out, a child seat that's bent and uncomfortable, and handles with shattered plastic coverings. Why, it's probably the overflowing one we usually see blocks from the store that's worn and tattered from use by the homeless to truck their belongings from one cold place to another. But that's the basket the homeless use and that's the basket they cling to. That's the only basket they have. It was actually the destiny of the basket from the very beginning.

The only basket we have was also broken. It was bent and a shambles. To be seen with it would be unthinkable..., downright embarrassing. It's the laughing stock of world. But when we first saw it all we could see was a whole cart, completely refurbished with sparkling chrome, perfectly greased wheels and a seat with our name engraved on it. After we put ourselves in that basket, we thought it was full. But after living in it for awhile we realized it had a lot more room in it. Being there by ourselves allowed us to stretch our legs and sleep comfortably, but it wasn't comfort that the basket was given for. It was meant to hold more while the first contents were pushed aside to make room. So we stepped into the corner's edge, knowing all too well that we were going to get smashed, but at least we had peace knowing we were still in the basket. And the surprising thing is that once we made room for more we found out that the first contents were incomplete without the others. And all the while the others were just sitting on the shelf waiting to be made complete themselves, needing a basket in which to reside.

Xiao Qian has changed our lives forever, and we've changed hers forever. She took a leap of faith, but from faith we took the leap. And now we celebrate, with all of us feeling a little crowded, a little uncomfortable at times, and sometimes even a little crushed. But we're all that much more complete, and we're all wanting to the fill the basket until it can be filled no more. It's then, and only then, that the final destination of the cart will rest as intended with its Maker.

Piper at a local Chinese restaurant with Victoria, Tom, Poppy, Willow and Barret on the evening of January 25th, her "Gotcha Day". She intentionally picked out and is wearing the very same sweater she wore that very first day one year ago when she filled our basket.

The origami that Xiao Qian made for Victoria, Tom and herself which, when unfolded, contained the messages to us below.

"Dear Dad, Happy one year with you. Are you so glad you can have me for your daughter? You so smart and funny. So I smart and funny too. Ha! Ha! You so kind to me and love me. Thank you so much for what you did for me. I loved you sooooooo much. I am so happy I can be a part of this family. Love, Piper

"Dear Mom, Happy one year with you. I so happy I can be your daughter. From now I learned many things. I learned to make jewelry and origami. And you taught me how to cook. I enjoy to cook with you. You are best mother! I love you sooooooo much. And thank you for every day to teach my homework. :) Love, Piper

"Happy 'Gotcha Day', Piper. Thank you for making our basket that much more full and that much more complete. We love you,"

Mommy & Daddy

Flowers vs. Trees

As an adjunct to our last post, we find it comical to note the differences between our two little girls. There are clear and obvious distinctives between them, and they couldn't be more duly noted than by looking at the hairdos between their "My Little Pony" ponies.

Can you guess which one belongs to Poppy and which one belongs to Willow?

Loving the differences between flowers and trees,

Why Children Need Mommies

This is why little children needs mommies.

Willow really didn't want me to take this picture, and I suppose I can understand why. She's learning the "art" of self-consciousness and becoming a little more bashful around the camera. Victoria's been tending to the side of our Poppa-licious at a nearby hospital for the last few days while she stabilizes from a very serious viral respiratory condition, so Barret and Willow have been subjected to my clumsy attempts to substitute in her absence (Piper's at a retreat, lucky for her).

Poor little Poppy. (She's doing better now.)

Willow's always been the little more messy one of the two "kid-les". Poppy rarely, if ever, gets food on her face when she's eating, and Willow's got food on and round about her at every meal. Poppy's usually pretty put together with her outfits and Willow puts on whatever is laying around her room. Poppy wants her hair brushed, and Willow probably couldn't care less. Which brings me to the climax of this story. When I brought Willow into the hospital room to see her Mei Mei and Momma, Victoria looked at me after glancing at Willow and her rats-nest hair and said, "Couldn't you have at least put a clip in it or something? Look at her! Daddy's just don't think about these things." Victoria then called Willow over to her and neatly put her back together again.

Yes, Children need mommies, mostly for much deeper reasons, but also for the practical ones.

Thanking God Our Children Have a Mommy (and an exceptional one at that),

The Thing I Love Most In Life

Shortly before Christmas Poppy enthusiastically, but also cautiously, walked up to me and asked me what my favorite thing in the whole world was. Without any hesitation at all I quickly answered, "The Bible". She then smiled at me with a quick, pondering grin and contemplatively walked away. I wasn't quite sure what she was up to, but her query was no doubt purposeful and deliberate. That must have been about a week or so before Christmas Day and I didn't give it much thought after that.

On Christmas morning we all sat around the Christmas tree in our living room, opening presents while cozied-up to a warm fireplace (gas logs, however). We take opening presents slow in our family, sort of a ritual tradition of allowing each person to unwrap one while everyone else focuses on the recipient. After oohing and ah-hing a bit, it's off to the next family member, and so on and so forth. The kids usually give each of us a gift (Victoria & me, that is), and from the little ones it's often something hand-crafted. They're kind of the sweetest gifts of all because they're given without any monetary expense, but no doubt at personal expense in one way, shape, form or another. While all of the older kids spent a little bit of money on me (us), each one of their gifts were also so personal, so special, and so meaningful (in fact, I'll never forget any of them). But when it came time for me to open Poppy's gift, she excitedly pulled it out from under the tree, wrapped with used, crinkly paper and a ton of scotch tape. Just looking at the wrapping job warmed my heart and I knew something special was behind that artful creation. It was heavy for its size, and I couldn't imagine what was inside. After peeling away different corners of multiple layers of tape, I finally got to the paper part and tore a whole in it so I could peer behind the layers of wrapping. I looked at Poppy and said, "What in the world have you got for Daddy?" She smiled with a twinkle in her eye and said, "You never know." Of course, you know, and now I know that it was the thing that I love the most in the world. Yes, it was an old, tattered Bible of Victoria's, one that Poppy found laying around and decided that, when she saw it, she was going to give me the thing that I love most in life. I was a little choked up inside (and so was Victoria) while I hugged Poppy and told her that I couldn't love anything more. She was so proud of herself.

While praying this morning about something I might post about next, this story came immediately to mind. I share it with you because the tenderness of little ones brings us back to the heart of giving. Poppy had nothing to give of her own, but she creatively searched high and low to find on her own the one thing that would mean the most to me. And when she discovered it she found a way to make sure she could satisfy my highest desire. And when I think about what Jesus gave to us, even when we didn't desire it but knowing full, good and well what we needed most, faith to believe in the greatest and most gracious gift of all, Himself, I'm brought to a place where I accept the gift and get all choked up. I didn't entirely know what was behind His gift either, but each day the wrapping paper gets peeled just a little further back and the magnificence of His gift is that much more visible and that much more appreciated.

May we all treasure that which we love most in life, but more importantly may we treasure that which we need most in life.

Post Christmas Reflections,

It's Over, but Not Really

Today is a bit of a jarring day for us Kruggel's. We suppose it's that way for many. All of the anticipation, all of the hoopla, all of the fanfare, all of the excitement, all of the togetherness, all of the laughter, all of the coziness, and all of the family that gathers and gathered around our Holidays are gone. They're over. A very, very early morning rise, drive and drop-off at the airport for Austin & Meagan moments ago poignantly signaled the end of it. And now with sorrowful hearts we all go back to the familiar. For Willow, it's a house with a lot fewer siblings to tickle and throw her over their shoulders, not to mention that her best friend and big sister Poppy heads out for school for 3 and 1/2 hours a day (this morning, she asked her Mommy, "When's Poppy coming home?"). For Poppy, it's back to kindergarten and coming home to fewer voices that will say "Hi, my little Pop-Tart". For Piper, it's heading off to Junior High, pounding through mounds of homework (all in English, mind you) and having fewer of those that care for her most lovingly jab at her English while she lovingly jabs at our dozen or so sorry Mandarin sayings. For Barret, the tenderness of tradition and sentimentality of the season is now a memory, and the pressures of peers, the future and a workload will weigh heavy upon him. For Annie, she now heads into one of her last and most difficult quarters of collegiate studies, constantly thinking of all the requirements while at the same time wondering what her life after college might hold. For Meagan, it's the search for rewarding investments of her Creator crafted gifts and separation from her best of California friends. For Austin, it's the tearing away from family, and also friends, asking God to give him a clear vision for his and Meagan's future. For Victoria, it's the motherly load of physically, but even more so mentally, caring for all her chicks regardless of whether they live in the nest or not. And for Tom, it's the continuation of "bringing home the bacon" and walking through a door at the conclusion of a long day to a quieter household, even though a half dozen seems like a lot but now really isn't.

It all sounds so negative, but really it isn't. Today and its varied emotions are yet another reminder that God fearfully and wonderfully made us. So much so that we need each other and the comforts of family and the familiar, just as our Lord, Jesus and the Spirit have always had the familial of one another. What was it like for God to be separated from His Son, and for Jesus to be separated from His Father while incarnate? In a very real sense they were not apart, but yet in another they were. Why, Jesus now sits at the right hand of the Father. You can't get much closer than that. But He wasn't sitting there while walking the earth those 33-plus years. Did He feel back then what we feel today? Did He long to be reunited, never to be separated again? We suspect He did. In fact, the Bible tells us so.

There's something about knowing that the One who loves us most felt what we feel most today, and there's comfort in that. There's also comfort in knowing that it ought not be this way, and that there will be a day when it will be like this no more. So, today, we give thanks for what we had with our children over the last two weeks, and we give thanks for what we feel right now, and we give thanks that we won't always have to feel this way.

Longing to be reunited, once and for all,

From "Growing" a Family to "Giving" a Family

Poppy's 6!!! Boo hoo!!! At our age and in our culture most might consider this to be cause for celebration, and a celebration it was last night, but there's something about this little girl and her growing up that brings cause for pause with hope springing eternal that she'll never change. (We suppose most parents feel this way about their all-too-fast growing children.) But Poppy's the first of what would forever change us "original" five Kruggel's (Victoria, Austin, Annie, Barret & Tom) from "growing" a family to "giving" a family. And that's significant for us because we're not naturally inclined to extend, but rather to retreat, keeping to ourselves. And because Poppy is so easy to love, she made it easy for us to consider loving more by giving more. Poppy needed a family and we didn't, or so we thought. Willow needed a family and we didn't, or so we thought. Piper needed a family and we didn't, or so we thought. And thus our growing family birthed from giving a family. Had Poppy been anyone other than Qing Zu Qiao, perhaps Willow would have remained Wu Hui Xuan, and perhaps Piper would have remained Li Xiao Qian. Instead they're Kruggel's now.

God knew and knows our frailty and weaknesses far more than us (which is a frightening thing to consider), but by giving us our sweet little Poppy-Flower He grew an inward love in us that allowed not only Poppy, but Willow, Piper, and now even Austin, Meagan, Annie, Barret, Victoria and Tom to give an outward love. Going around the table last night during our special dinner with Poppy, we (all 8 of us, including Austin, Meagan & Annie) continued with our tradition of sharing one special thing we love about our Birthday recipient, and for Poppy this is what we said about her:

• "She's one of the sweetest, most tender-hearted people we know."
• "She's one of the most giving people we know."
• "She's one to freely love and show appreciation."
• "She's one to be a big-helper when you need it most."
• "She's one to love her little sister, and big siblings too, in selfless ways."
• "She's one of the most sensitive little souls we know."
  

These words hardly do justice to what we see and experience in Poppy on a regular basis. For those of you that know her, then you can resonate with all of this. And listen, this little girl is far from perfect (we all know that) - she's a sinner and believe us when we write that it's a pretty ugly scene when that comes out. But these things we said about her last night are reasons why Poppy's so easy to love, and these are reasons why we celebrate. And these are also reasons why we never want her to change.

("Thank you, Poppy. And thank you, Jesus, for allowing us to have her for awhile.")

Slowly moving from a growing family to a giving family,

The "Comment" of All Comments

Just a few days before Christmas we posted about our internal struggle to blog, the sharing of personal joys and sorrows through social media networking (link below).

http://willowsway1.blogspot.com/2010/12/our-silence.html

No sooner had we posted our thoughts and someone anonymously wrote a comment that lifted our spirits, causing us to now post for our second time since then. When we received the comment we wrote back to the sender, but we're quite sure it's probably floating around somewhere out there in cyberspace because the address was listed with a "noreply" in its contents. Our response was to most of all thank her for sharing her story, and what an inspiring one it was, but also to ask permission to post her thoughts below. So, we're taking a little bit of a risk by proceeding to share her reply below not knowing whether it's acceptable or not since we never really heard back from her. Since the comment is open for all to read, we're going to assume that it's O. K., and re-post below. What we want to draw your attention to is not the encouragement to write or blog, but more the encouragement to do what she and her husband (and family) are doing - to sacrifice for the sake of their love for Jesus.

I just wanted to let you know how much your posts mean to me. My husband has not attended church on a regular basis in 11 years due to his job. Of course this hurt his relationship with the Lord and interfered with his role as the leader of our household. I sent him a post you wrote and it changed my husband forever. Through your post, the Lord spoke to my husband and he now strives each and every day to put Christ first and to lead our family the way God intended. He has quit his job and is now working as a school teacher in the inner city AND attending church with us each Sunday and Wednesday. We are currently in the processes of selling our home so that we can move closer to the community he teaches in so that we as a family can be a mentor to these children. So thank you for your posts it has impacted our lives in a way that is just simply mind boggling. Thanks for being such a wonderful Christian mentor. You touch more lives than you know:)

If, for whatever reason, our post here is presumptuous and offensive to the original writer, then we'll gladly remove this upon notice. Otherwise, may we all place ourselves in places that cost us something because that's what love does and that's what love is. May we all "live lives that demand an explanation" (Francis Chan).

Humbled and encouraged,

What a Christmas 2010 Has Been!!!

It's hard for us to think of Christmas as just one day when the entire year feels so much like Christmas so much of the time. What we mean is that Jesus is everything to us, and while the fanfare that we typically feel around the Holidays isn't always present in our spirits (which isn't what Christmas is about anyway), we rest in peace that we're showered by His gifts on a constant basis. In fact, we only see and know a fraction of them, and if we could peel back all of the hindrances that prevent us from knowing them all we're sure we could not be able to handle the overflow of abundance made real to us. Nevertheless, we ask to see Him more, know Him more, experience Him more, and to love Him more even though He's given when we don't deserve it.

The little update below is the letter we issued to friends and family by mail, and gives a brief insight into how we feel Jesus has gifted us Kruggel's this year. While it's hard to read in its small-print present form, if you click (or double-click) on each page then they should enlarge (at least they do on our computer), making them much easier on the eyes.

Merry Christmas,

Our Silence

I've been a little bashful, hesitant if you will, about posting lately. Obvious, of course, if you've recently checked our blog only to see that there's really nothing new there. There's always something new in our lives, just like yours, but I constantly wrestle with whether it's worthy of writing about so others might read, see and know. There's a part of me (a part of us, I suppose) that often asks in the back of my (our) mind(s) before any post is posted, "Should I really write this and expose it for all to see? After all, is there really anything that special, that unique about us Kruggel's that would warrant drawing attention to?" I believe the answer is simple, "No, there isn't." Victoria reads numerous blogs about families and lives that are far more intriguing and exhilarating than ours. Quite frankly, many of those lives revive our spirits and cause us to want to love all the more. And that's what makes this social media stuff so interesting and at the same time puts me in kind of a quandary. Truth be known, I (we Kruggel's) don't really desire a bunch of eyes elevated in our direction. Yet at the same time we live in community with you and you're a part of us. I guess we should all be concerned about how we live our lives because to the extent any of us are not living as designed then we're not healthy and holy together.

If only I could convey better in words what we wish for more than anything else, that Jesus be seen and we vanish. The ugly part of me wants to be lifted up and the focus of attention, but the new heart transplanted inside of me wants Jesus to be the focus of attention. This is the good tension that I wrestle with everyday, and the tension that keeps me from writing and posting on a more frequent basis. Sure we're busy and there isn't enough time in a day, but that's not the real reason behind our silence. (Besides, everyone is busy, which is part of our problem, isn't it?)

I had to go back and look at a blog post we made on April 14th, 2010 to refresh my memory about why we do this, blog. I've added a link here directly to that post so it's easy to reference if you're at all interested in reading it again: http://willowsway1.blogspot.com/2010/04/why-do-we-blog.html. I'm glad I re-read it because is fired up my engines again to find ways to draw our eyes to Jesus and divert them away from us.

I guess we'll try to keep this thing going after all,

Broken Hearts

I'm so glad that God created hearts that break. Mines broken right now and, in a very strange way, I'm thankful it is. I'm sitting in the International Terminal of the San Francisco Airport, on my way again to the other side of the world, China. While leaving the house this morning and hugging all my children there (Barret, Piper, Poppy & Willow), and then squeezing my love, Victoria, in the front seat of our car, I felt that feeling no one wants to feel, but in way you do. Good-byes are hard, separation is unnatural, and distance isn't welcome in the human spirit. That was all too evident in our household today as most of us held back tears while waving "so long" and at the same time saying "I'll miss you". Imagine what it would be like if when we left the ones we loved it was just merely a "so long" without the heartache, or never saying "I'll miss you" because you really won't. That would be a sad state of affairs, that would be numbness, that would be inhumane.

So, while they just called up my flight to Shanghai over the loudspeaker system, my heart is crying out loud "I'll miss you", "I love you", and "I want to come home".

"Thank you, God, for hearts that break."

February 22, 2005

I was combing through some e-mails today trying to clear out a few of the over 6,000 unread items in my "In-Box", and I happened upon this one from Annie that was written on February 22, 2005, just two days after our Lord placed the concept of adoption (for the very first time) on our hearts, and just one day after Annie and I spent the day in the City (of San Francisco) talking, praying and giddy with excitement about adoption. I'm so glad I saved it, reminding me of how miracles start and now seeing, years later, what they blossom into.

"Hello Dad!

Just wanted to let you know real quick what Austin said last night on the phone after you were in bed...i told him what we were thinking about and he was honestly totally excited!!! i am serious! i said, "Austin...so what do you think about all this?" and he was like, "i think this is awesome...i would totally be up for this...what a neat and exciting idea for outreach, i will keep praying Annie, and keep me posted!" isn't that cool? Austin is never like that about those kind of things so i have to say that i was shocked when i heard him say that! anyway dad, please....can we keep looking into this? I'm thinking about it a lot today as well...and i just want to keep considering it OK? thanks so much for our fun day yesterday together in the city...i had a blast! i love you so much...email me back if you can, OK? bye!

Your Daughter,

Annie"

---

Thank you, Annie, and we love you. You and Barret (& Austin) were such an inspiration to help make the impossible possible.

The Cry of the Orphan

The President of Focus on the Family, John Daly, posted a video about orphan care in 2007. With the help of some friends, I stumbled upon it and found it very inspirational. Take a few minutes, watch and listen. It just takes one to reach out. It just takes one to make a difference.

http://icareaboutorphans.org/jimdaly.aspx

If you have time, you'll also want to check out this short one (includes Francis Chan and Steven Curtis Chapman):

http://www.cryoftheorphan.org/Videos.aspx

Warmly in Christ,

New Mercies

The other day I walked into this room (the "girls' room), like I do most every morning after I wake up and take my shower, and stumbled upon this scene. The view was familiar with the ever so slight smell of bodies snuggled together, and the temperature mixed with body heat amidst the cool Fall air. They must have heard me walk in. My presence, combined with the dim overhead chandelier light and the new rising sun, and with ten hours of sleep behind them caused their little black-haired heads to bobble moving too and fro. Xiao Qian was cocooned in her down comforter just inches from her Mei Mei's - another black haired head peering out from the top of the fabric. I just stood there for a moment and soaked it all in, giggling to myself as they all began to open their eyes, rubbing their hands to them and making little groaning noises.

This happens almost every morning in households all across the globe. But this time, for me, it was a blaring reminder in the dawn of a new day that "His mercies are new every morning".

I love our life,

Lift Up Our Eyes

Isn't it incredible how God created us to enjoy music? We mean, He could have created us in such a way that melodies and harmonies didn't resonate with us. But, music is a universal language. It may have different rhythms, tones and so forth in different cultures, even subcultures, but all of mankind identifies with music.

Even so, some people tend to gravitate to music more than others, and sometimes certain songs hit a chord for us like none other. Recently we've learned that Poppy really feels close to God when she hears certain Christian music, so Victoria likes to turn on music while in the car. The songs have to be upbeat and a little driving, with the lyrics clearly articulated. She seems to particularly like Matt Redman, and songs like "Blessed Be the Name". From one of Matt Redman's recent CD's, we happened upon a song that Poppy's really gravitated toward, and that's "You Alone Can Rescue". What's really cool is to listen to her sing along with the song, and you can tell she's sort of in a trance (in a good way), as if she were communing with Him. It's so sweet to watch (this is a picture of her in her car seat singing along with Matt Redman).

Speaking of resonating with certain lyrics, Victoria's also been touched by the bridge to that song:

"We lift up our eyes,

Lift up our eyes,

You're the giver of life."

Lifting up our eyes to the giver of life,

Our Leaf Will Not Wither

I'm kind of in a writing mood these days, as evidenced by my fourth consecutive post in as many days. I don't know, the Lord has just given me this boost of love for my family that was recently sparked by reading "Choosing to SEE" (previous post). "Thank you Mary Beth Chapman!" Nothing significant here, other than love, except that I wanted to post these three pictures (below) of our sweet little Pop-Tart. The girls and I went on a walk this weekend because it was a beautiful Fall day here on Saturday. Victoria was out for the afternoon, and Barret wasn't feeling well, so it was just the four of us. Sometimes it's a challenge to figure out how we're going to spend meaningful time together that caters to all age groups (from 4 to 18) - not an easy task. But because Xiao Qian is so amenable to just about anything, she flexes between the older and the younger incredibly well. I decided we were going to collect colorful Fall leaves (each had their own bag), bring them home and do an easy craft (I'm really not very crafty). When we got back we put the leaves on the table, placed a piece of paper over them, and then lightly colored uniformly with pencil or crayon to draw out the variegation and outline of each leaf. I remember doing this as a kid and thought it was pretty cool. The sketches turned out great, but I felt they were a little incomplete so I hearkened back to Psalm 1 and told the girls that if they stay rooted in the Word of God, the Bible, their leaf would not wither like those we collected. We wrote that verse on the papers and plan to send them out to family. Poppy remembered the verse later on that evening (she's got such a good mind), and we repeated it throughout the rest of the day. Sounds pretty "spiritual", but understand this was an unusual spurt of ingenuity. The Spirit? Guess we saw Jesus that day.

How blessed is the man that who does not walk in the counsel of the wicked,
Nor stand in the path of sinners,
Nor sit in the seat of scoffers!
But his delight is in the law of the Lord,
And in His law he meditates day and night.
And he will be like a tree firmly planted by streams of water,
Which yields its fruit in its season,
And its leaf does not wither,
And in whatever he does, he prospers.

(Psalm 1:1-3)

Enjoy the pics!

Poppy's doing what we might typically find Willow doing... being a monkey and hanging off a tree.

The girls can get the best of one another, but most of the time they're really pretty good buds. Couldn't resist snapping this shot.

Isn't t that a cool tree? Forget the tree! Isn't that an adorable little cherub from China?

An un-withered leaf... today,

Dis-Appointments or Divine Appointments?

[This is a recent article I wrote for our local church newsletter about a week ago that I thought I would also post here.]

I was recently released from a dark dungeon of despair. It was lonely and cold in there. Not surprising. Prisons are designed to be that way. I don’t ever want to go back again. Who would? No one relishes those places. And as much as I don’t want this newsletter article to be about me, I want it to be about not being me. You see, I’ve had to lately let go of some things that I love and I’ve allowed that to thrust me into the catacombs. A few of those things are tangible, but in the end they’re all intangible – dreams if you will. Rather than focus on the particulars of what those are, which really don’t matter, I’d rather focus on the response. Chances are pretty good that I will one day find myself standing before the gate of such a cellar again. We all will.

Victoria (my wife) and I have come to the not-so-revelatory conclusion that with the passage of time come increased risks of disappointments. Disappointments because visions of the future and what they might be are painted very early in life. And then, when our God-given course of life actually has a landscape that’s carved into a very different reality, grave discontent can set in. Those realities have a vast array of appearances. Perhaps it’s a job that, even in our wildest imaginations, we never thought we would be doing. Maybe it’s a relationship that looks nothing like what it initially seemed to promise. It could be family members that are unexpectedly struggling in school, in marriage, or in health. The list of possible imaginings verses actualities is endless. Nobody longs for these dichotomies. Nobody intentionally maps out a course of life only to tear it up and move in the exact opposite direction, the one that was originally trying to be avoided. My recent and misguided response to these redirects is what I want to write about in brief, and also how God has redirected my reaction to the redirects.

We’ve all been very well taught here at Grace Bible Church - that we fall under the supreme rule of Almighty God (cf. Psalm 47:8; Psalm 115:3). In my most recent crisis (and I use that term very loosely) I’ve had several remind me of His absolute authority. But that truism and its verbal repetition by well intentioned kinfolk seem to recently fall short of assuaging my disappointments, disappointments that (to confess) have led to occasional bitterness. While my head knows Him to sit on high, my heart can beat for another that sits much lower… me. In other words, I claim pseudo-sovereignty, a condition (and big word) of having the appearance of being sovereign but in actuality it’s a sham of sovereignty. I’m fooling no one but myself. And in those moments when I assume a role that I was never intended to have, my discontented disappointment usurps contentment in a divine appointment. When you get right down to it, I choose to no longer believe the plans of my LORD, ones that He crafted from long ago, and ones that He’s never forgotten – plans that are for welfare and not calamity, plans for a future and a hope (cf. Jeremiah 29:11). I choose to no longer believe that Jesus rules over all things (cf. Ephesians 1:20-23). I choose to blow a hole in my gospel, and that gaping hole cuts a gorge between the whole of life abundant – grace that decimates what I think is best and grace that cooperates in what He knows is best.

This tension can be difficult for us followers of Jesus because we must always believe that there is no happenstance (cf. Proverbs 16:33), even in hardship, and at the same time believe that God pronounces Himself to be always in the business of doing good (cf. Romans 8:28-30). When we fail to press into this full spectrum of gospel grace and also hold these tensions in proper balance, all of life can become catawampus – feeling like a prisoner when in truth we’re free (cf. John 8:32). So to stabilize myself (ourselves) between feeling disappointed and trusting in God’s divine appointment, I record here just three of His redirects to my (our) misdirects:

1. The Process Can Be As Meaningful As The Outcome: We people want results. We develop plans with an intended conclusion, and we want to see progress along the way. It’s in our DNA, so to speak. And while the end of all things is of importance to God, the means of getting there is also noteworthy. It, too, is an act of grace that’s under His divine appointment. “The mind of man plans his way, But the Lord directs his steps.” (Proverbs 16:9) Sometimes we get to see the result(s), and sometimes we don’t. Disappointment can be counteracted when we intentionally choose to perceive and believe that it’s the Lord cutting a swath through our jungle-of-life, even when it’s on a route that’s a diversion from the one we charted for ourselves. He’s accomplishing something significant along the way long before we ever arrive – it’s called “becoming-like-Jesus”, the rose of Sharon, the lily of the valleys (cf. Song of Solomon 2:1). In God’s economy, the ends do justify the means.
2. The Letdown Can Be A Catalyst To The Uplift: In our greatest disappointments we’re brought to a lowly place. “Hope deferred makes the heart sick.” (Proverbs 13:12a) But it’s often in those moments when we feel we’ve lost all control that our greatest dependence is yielded to Him. In a very real sense He has us right where He wants us, right where He’s always wanted us. We’re at a place where we have nowhere else to turn and we relinquish all dominion to its rightful owner. Disappointment can be a bellwether that drives us to our knees, making us “a humble and lowly people,” taking “refuge in the name of the LORD” (Zephaniah 3:12b), the Divine One who appoints a time for everything (cf. Ecclesiastes 3:1). In a very real sense, low can be the new high.
3. The Finale Can Be A Hope Through The Episodes: Although we’re dreamers and schemers, it’s sometimes hard to see beyond the moment when our best laid plans bring disappointment. That’s partly because we can’t see further than the here and now. But is that really the case for us? Hasn’t God given us a glimpse, if even only through a mirror dimly (cf. I Corinthians 13:12a)? Reading ahead feels out of order. However don’t we sort of already know the end of the story? “The end of a matter is much better than its beginning.” (Ecclesiastes 7:8) Revelation is for our revelation, and while it’s a book and even woven throughout The Book, its anticipation brings hope through the beginning and the in between of our most hopeless episodes of life. Easier said than done, especially in the heat of the disappointing scenes, but that’s partly because we forget to remember the finale that’s already been scripted (cf. Philippians 3:12-4:1). Of us our finale is promised, "They shall hunger no more, neither thirst anymore; neither shall the sun beat down on them, nor any heat; for the Lamb in the center of the throne shall be their shepherd, and shall guide them to springs of the water of life; and God shall wipe every tear from their eyes.” (Revelation 7:16-17) Jesus’ apparent disorder is perfect order, when the last becomes our first.

Dis-appointments or divine-appointments? You choose. I choose. God’s chosen.