Worry, Epiphanies and the Every Day

I'm not sleeping well. 

It's been 27 months without my son. 

I go to bed exhausted. 

I wake up exhausted. 

I know I've been awake in the night. 

I have that heavy feeling. 

What is keeping me up? 

Luke 10:41

"Martha, Martha," the Lord answered, 

"you are worried and upset about many things,

but few things are needed-- or indeed only one. 

Mary has chosen what is better, 

and it will not be taken away from her."

This verse has troubled me for many years. 

I've attended retreats based on the verse. 

Read an insightful book on the subject. 

Still. 

I am troubled. 

These days have been busy with preparing our Guest House. 

For putting feet on dreams. 

Planning out details. 

What are the goals of the this business?

How will things get accomplished?

Lists.  

Painting. 

Decorating. 

Praying. 

More painting. 

Mixed into all of this is farm work, book work, 

cooking, grieving, taking care of kids and preparing for winter;

 just to name a few. 

While I am at the stove I pondering these things. 

"Martha, Martha," the Lord answered, "you are worried and upset about many things,but few things are needed--or indeed only one. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her."

Martha was at the stove cooking, planning preparing. 

She had company in her home. 

Her gift hospitality. 

These folks were probably hungry. 

They had been on a long journey. 

And now. 

They were in her home. 

It was her job to care for them.

While I was cooking the notion struck me. 

All these years it's been Martha "the doer".

And Mary, "the sit at Jesus feet-er." 

While I was cooking I noticed my attitude. 

I was stewing. 

About this and that. 

I was hotter than the kettle I was working with. 

I was doing what was needed. 

But. . . I was stewing. 

And I thought. 

THAT'S IT!!!!!!!!

While other's gone before me have probably made this connection. 

I have not. 

It's not what Martha was doing that was the problem. 

It was what she was thinking. 

It's not that she needed to neglect the house to commune with our LORD. 

No. 

It was her attitude. 

The cooking was fine. 

The preparation was needed. 

But it was her heart. 

She was stewing. 

She was at that kitchen banging around. 

Ticked at her sister. 

Mary. . . was right at Jesus' feet. 

Her sweet spirit in tune with the Savior. 

Waiting to hear and absorb all there was. 

Time was short. 

Seek contentment in all you do. 

When cooking or, ack, cleaning. 

Where is your heart? 

Do you do the task joyfully as unto the LORD?

Or are you spewing and ranting, slamming pots and stomping around? 

There was nothing wrong with Martha and what she was doing. 

It was the way she was doing it. 

So, while I was at the stove having this epiphany 

(and burning what ever I was doing). 

I changed my attitude. 

Instead of stewing about what everyone else was 

doing. . .or not doing in this case, I looked to the Lord. 

I closed my eyes, (might be part of the burning) and gave thanks for the opportunity to cook. 

Yes. 

I even thanked God for the opportunity to clean. 

I slowed myself down. 

Sometimes we get off track. 

Jesus wasn't elevating Mary sitting as his feet while Martha was working. 

He wasn't encouraging Martha to come and literally sit at his feet. 

We're busy people. 

There is work to be done. 

He wants us in the midst of the work. 

The work is holy. 

He wants the merging of the two. 

He will help us. 

He's in the business of helping us; changing us. 

He is fighting for us! 

Exodus 14:14

The LORD will fight for you; you need only to be still."

We are called to be light. 

Matthew 5:15

"You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden.Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house.

Lauren Daigle

Salt and Light 

We're Stepping Out In Faith, We're putting Feet on A Dream!

We're working hard.

Painting. 

Cleaning.  (Eww)

Gardening. 

Decorating. 

So exciting. 

We're taking a step of faith. 

Putting feet on a dream.

My farmers word from the Lord. 

"More people."

My gift; hospitality. 

Friends who are all in. 

Do you long to experience a slower pace? 

Have you ever wondered what life on a farm might look like?

Do you just need a break? 

Introducing the 

Davis Farm Guest House

At the Davis Farm Guest House you will find all of that and more. 

We are creating a space, with a spectacular view, and lots of coffee, 
 for you to come to us. 

Check into our cozy three bedroom Guest House. 

Come and experience life on our farm. 

Drive the cows home for milking. 

Stack wood for the fires for winter. 

Help make bread or purchase your own local ingredients 
to create a delicious dinner in our spacious, fully stocked kitchen. 


Sit and savor the view with a hot cup of coffee or tea on our beautiful deck. 

Or curl up with a book by the warmth of a fire. 

If adventure is what you seek, climb our local Mount Mansfield or 
Camel's hump. 

Head into down town Burlington for shopping, great food and excitement. 

Drive to the slopes during ski season. 
Take full advantage of our close proximity to Smugglers Notch. 

Come stay for a weekend, a week or a month. 

A get a way for the whole family or time to re-connect with friends. 

There's plenty of room. 

We've been planning, painting and praying. 

We've been getting ready to welcome you and your friends and family 

to our 

Davis Farm Guest House


Come as strangers. . . leave as family. 

 Will you please share our new adventure. 

Contact us at 802-899-2357 
or e-mail us at davisfarm@surfglobal.net  for reservations. 

Find us on the web at www.farmingoncilleyhill.blogspot.com 
or on our Davis Farm face book page. 

Looking forward to sharing this beautiful space we have been blessed with. 

Let us know what you think! 

Summer, Please Don't End

Milking is finished. 
The cows are heading to pasture. 

It is unseasonably warm. 
(with NO humidity!)

A glorious sunrise. 

Hot coffee. 
The Ancient word. 

Taking time to -
Stop
And thank God for:

This sunrise
the beautiful weather
(and NO hudimity!)
lots of coffee
A slower day
grace for the journey
friendship
new adventures
music
learning in the struggle
fall

baking
did I mention coffee? 
farm table visits

new employees
warm breeze
Sheets on the line

and coffee


May your day be filled with immeasurable grace. 
Attempt to not complain about one thing. 
At all. 
Look for the thankful moments. 
Be the hands and feet of Jesus to just one person. 

Let me know how this works for you. 

Blessings on this day. 

Psalm 19:1
The heavens declare the glory of God;
 the skies proclaim the work of his hands.

The Smell of Dog Pee Pushed Me On

I begin to clean my room. 

The room I have occupied since my wedding night. 

The room I have not cleaned since before the accident. 

Piles of stuff. 

Dirt. 

The smell of dog pee. 

I know it's in there somewhere. 

Yes. 

It's gross. 

And that's what I have been living in. 

I can barely begin to clean. 

I can't stay focused on anything. 

I try. 

I have help sometimes. 
A friend who is quiet and gentle comes to be by my side. 

We clean or organize and then it seeps in again. 

I hate living like this. 

So I begin. 

In my room. 

I have piled letters, cards and books. 

From so many. 

I don't want to part with them. 

Some I do not even remember receiving. 

Book after book. 

Slowly, I begin to read the words sent to my family. 

It is overwhelming.
Even two years later, I find it hard to believe. 

I feel the fog descending. 

I focus back to my task. 

I clean the books. 

I re-pile them. 
I press on. 

I vacuum and put away clothes. 

I start to make a pile to throw away, to give away. 

It feels good. 

Layers of dirt and grime. 
Removing that awful smell. 
Being cleaned. 
I sort through envelopes. 
The programs to Elijah's funeral. 
More books on grief. 

I keep cleaning. 
I press on. 

Living with grief is not easy. 
The loss of a child threatens to pull you under at any moment. 
But all of life is like that. 
Unless we surrender. 
I keep cleaning. 
I press on. 

As I clean I can't help but think of the shed blood of the lamb. 
The cleansing that was done, Once, for all. 

How wonderful it feels to have a clean house. 

How greater still. 
To have a clean, redeemed soul. 

Happy Cleaning. 

Psalm 51:10
Create in me a pure heart, O God, 
and renew a steadfast spirit within me.

In an Impulsive, Immediate Gratification Seeking Culture. . . I Will Wait

God closed a door. 

And I didn't like it. 

He'd already slammed the door in other ways in our lives. 

This felt like it was just the last straw. 

I vacillated between anger and trying to trust. 

Leaning on what I know. . . not on what I feel. 

Those are hard things. 
This world throws things into our pathway. 

At each turn; we choose. 
We can step into grace. 
Seeking wisdom in the walk. 
Trusting in a plan held by a Divine Creator. 
Or we can let this world drag us down. 

Bitterness and anger seep in. 

I started down that path. 
Justifying my behavior. 
Condoning my feelings with self gratifying words. 
"I" this and "I" that. 
The door closed. 
And I wasn't prepared. 

Proverbs 16:9
In their hearts humans plan their course, but the LORD establishes their steps.

All my planning and trusting led to another closed door. 

I am not sure where God is leading. 

But I trust the direction. 

I trust that God is establishing our steps. 

So, I will continue to wait. 

Waiting takes work. 

Seeking, trusting, waiting. 

In an impulsive and immediate gratification society 
these words slam against the culture. 

I don't want to take a step out of His will. 

 I will wait. 

I will listen for the still quiet voice. 

The voice that soothes this aching heart. 

The voice that will bring about His plan, in His timing. 

 I will wait. 

Seeking, trusting, and waiting. 

Isaiah 40:31
 But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; 
they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary;
 and they shall walk, and not faint.

Happy Birthday From Your Little Girl

He holds my hand. 

The hand that is still strong. 

Yet works no more. 

I look at him. 

This man that gave me life. 

This man that has been my confidant, advocate, role model and father. 

I gaze into his eyes. 

He's still so handsome. 

He smiles and kisses me. 

He's happy. 

Content. 

He knows no pain or ache. 

I say, "Let's walk for a bit."

He shuffles. 

Reminders for him to pick up his feet. 

I bristle. 

This once fiercely independent, stubborn man. . . shuffles. 

I choke back the sobs that threaten to erupt. 

Oh this life on earth can weigh you down. 

Heap upon heap of sorrow. 

Rough spots seeming to last far longer than the soul can handle. 

We turn the corner. 

He says hi to a person walking by. 

Gone is the anger and frustration he once exhibited. 

I pray as we walk. 

For the nurses and doctors. 

For the caregivers and food staff. 

A thankless job. 

Pouring life into folks who may or may not say thank you. 

Who might take a swing at you. 

I think on this as we stroll. 

Soon, the walking slows. 

He's tired. 

He clearly is ready to go back to his chair. 

I hug him. 

The 2 littlest farm girls hug him. 

The littlest holds his hand and helps him into his chair. 

She is soft and gentle. 

She connects with him well. 

I turn to leave. 

Good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow,
That I shall say good night till it be morrow. -Shakespeare

I leave him and head to the elevator. 

I have a party to attend and business at my parents house. 

There is no time for sorrow or self pity. 

I stand up taller. 

I thank God for all the years I have had with my dad. 

I thank God that he suffers not. 

He is in good hands. 

He is content. 

Phillipians 4:12

I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want.

I will not let the weight drag me down. 

This too has passed through the hand of the One who called us into being. 

These steps are for a mightier purpose. 

I pick my feet up higher as I walk. 

I am conscious of my posture. 

We are all children of the King. 

The One who loves and adores us. 

The One who made it possible for us to stand before Him for all of eternity. 

Won't you lay down those burdens. 

Shed that weight. 

Happy Birthday Dad. 

You are forever my hero. 

Mom loved this song. 

She traded her sorrow. 

She lived while she was dying. 

I hope you can trade your sorrow. 

Trade your shame. 

Stand on the unshakable ground. 

I'm Trading My Sorrow

Learning From Wandering Cows

My farmer brings the cows back to the field. 

They have been wandering. 

Stepping over fences. 

Moving outside their boundaries. 

It's not the first time. 

This group pushes and tests the boundaries. 

Repeatedly. 

My farmer calls to them. 

They know him, and hear his voice. 

He leads them back to safety. 

We are like those frisky heifers. 

We're eager to see what is just beyond. 

To feel there is more; just beyond our reach. 

The boundaries; set to protect us. 

Protect us from things we do not even know or understand. 

Lines erased, justified, compromised. 

As small children, parameters are placed for our protection. 

Stern commands to set the boundaries. 

Still. 

Immediate desire to go against the flow. 

Break the rules. 

Stretch the limits. 

Until. 

That gentle Shepherd finds us. 

Jeremiah 31:3

The LORD appeared to us in the past, saying: "I have loved you with an everlasting love; I have drawn you with unfailing kindness.

He gently leads us home. 

Today is Elijah's 20th birthday. 

He has spent 3 birthday's in heaven. 

Some days I want life to stop. 

To not move on. 

I step over those boundaries. 

I attempt to take a path that is outside the way. 

Lovingly and gently my Shepherd brings me back. 

My eyes just need to remain focused. 

I need to hear his voice. 

Spend time with Him so I can recognize His call. 

If you're wandering and feel lost. 

Take time to get to know the One who can lead you home. 

Elijah's greatest gift to me will always be his walk with the Lord. 

He was not perfect; by any means. 

Yet he left this legacy. 

This was no accident or coincidence. 

Thank you my boy. 

For the gift. 

My heart aches with the missing. 

Yet I am confident I will see you again. 

Happy 20th sweetheart.