Living Life

A busy day. 

Nothing new; 

except the feeling. 

All day. 

Something. 

Not right. 

The Cast Party. 

Families. 

Dancers. 

Food. 

Decorating. 

Arabian Nights. 

Alladin. 

So much to do. 

Purposefully stepping one foot in front of the other. 

Work. 

Grief. 

Talk truth. 

Verse after verse. 

To my weary heart. 

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.

It just seemed so hard today. 

Pictures I hadn't ever seen. 

Quiet moments driving. 

Remembering. 

Finding it hard to believe he's really gone. 

That red hair. 

The silly, lopsided grin. 

I reach for words of truth. 

Isaiah 41:13

For I am the LORD your God who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, Do not fear; I will help you.

Until I remembered.

 33 months. 

I stop in my tracks. 

Life is marching forward. 

I hadn't even remembered the date. 

I hadn't understood why the day was unsettled. 

The farm house is quieting down. 

Just the farm boy is stirring. 

The day is coming to a close. 

I have much to be thankful for. 

The evening spent with some of this area's finest young people and their families. 

Young people that have drawn along side of us and never let us go. 

I can't think of a better way to have spent this day. 

Preparing. 

Decorating. 

Creating. 

My farmer helping too. 

Now the day is done. 

It's time to rest. 

Continuing to step into truth. 

Remembering I am held. 

Good Night my Lijy. 

I still miss you with every fiber of my being. 

I loved your grin. 

That sparkle in your eye. 

It's how you looked at me the night you left. 

So excited. 

I will spend the rest of my days learning how to live without you. 

Stepping into the plan God has. 

Yielding to His ways. 

Trusting in the plan. 

Gaining strength that only He can provide. 

Keep my feet on solid ground. 

Davis Farm Guest House

We're having fun at our Guest House and on the farm!

We're meeting new people.

Making friends from all over the world. 

We're sprucing up. 

Watching grass grow!

Literally. 

We're shaking off the Winter. 

Though, it's not shaking us off!

Sharing about this place we love so much. 

Things aren't always easy. 
We share that too. 

Work. 

Long hours. 

Yet. 

Rewarding. 

Full. 
Held by a gracious God. 

Stepping forward with purpose. 

Hope you'll stop by for a visit soon. 

Find us on our blog page: 

http://farmingoncilleyhill.blogspot.com/p/davis-farm-guest-house.html

Or our listing on Farm Stay U.S.:

www.farmstayus.com/farm/Vermont/Davis_Farm_

The Boys

The farm boy; my only boy. 

I used to say boys. 

A moment; forever changed. 

My brothers, always called "the boys."

Mom's words echo;
 "have you talked to the boys?" 

Grown men with families. 
The boys.

Naturally I began to call my sons; 

the boys. 

I loved calling them that. 

I loved having 2 boys. 

They fought. 
Tousling. 
Angry. 
Dominance. 
Fists clenched. 
War.
Strength. 

Awful. 

Until. 

Maturity. 
Alliance. 

Friendship.

Early on it was as cohorts against public enemy number one;

Mom. 

An alliance while playing video games. 

Competition. 

This beautiful interaction was just beginning. 

When it ended. 

Now, there is one. 

He wrestles with this new role. 

Oldest boy. 

Only boy. 

He walks the stairs each night past the closed door. 

Past the silence. 

Each time molding and shaping who he is becoming. 

You see this farm boy; made a choice. 

He entered the waters of baptism. 

He aligned himself with the living God. 

And the enemy of our souls reared. 

The farm boy went head to head with challenge after challenge. 

His brothers death left him vulnerable. 

He rebelled and fought. 

Until he made a choice. 

To surrender to that baptism. 

To stand strong in the face of opposition. 

This mama and a slew of others bowed low. 
Digging deep. 
We worked. 
On our knees;
 Interceding for this amazing young man. 

And he shed that skin of discontentment. 

He threw off the chains that brought him down. 

Step by step he is yielding; submitting to the Father's will. 

It is still a painful battle. 

He misses his brother. 

He, nor any of us, understand. 

And the missing is deep. 

That farm boy is taking his energy and creativity

 and turning it into something beautiful. 

He's taking something worn down and discouraged and
 breathing into it new life. 


Isaiah 43:19
See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.

We have a Savior who longs to do the very same for each and everyone of us. 

He sees the plan that is obscured from our view. 

He is working. 

He is doing a new thing. 

We're taking off the scales to see. 

We're reaching for hope, when all seems lost. 

I continue to not like this road. 

Yet, along the way I don't want to miss the beauty that awaits. 

My purpose is beyond what I can see. 

My worn down, discouraged self is stepping out and seeking the new thing. 

I want to be refreshed and given new eyes to see. 

Not in my own strength but always in his. 

Won't you take this journey with me? 

Psalm 91:4
He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; 
his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.

Even in the Rush. . . We Can Slow it Down

The sun shone this weekend. 
For the whole weekend. 

There were no extra activities. 
Time seemed to slow.
No rushing. 
Dinner with friends. 
The farm boy playing music. 
Time with my farmer. 
There was hand holding. 
Time to talk. 
Slow. 

Last minute guests at the guest house. 
Sheets on the line. 
Book work. 
Time for listening and dreaming. 
A fire at my partner in crime's home. 
Coffee.
Slow.

Soaking in the sun. 
Compost delivery. 
A ride in the truck to visit neighbors. 
No rush. 
Connecting. 
Each step an act of Worship. 
Intentional. 
Slow. 

I wrote the words,

"I just need to hang on until May," 

Our transition date to Organic Farming. 
I wrote it as if it was the day that will change everything. 

As if a moment in time will take all suffering away. 

A moment can change everything. 
A moment when your son looks into your eyes and says, "Good bye, love you." 
He bounds out the door with excitement. 

And never returns.
Moments can define us. 
Change us. 
But this. 

Hanging on until May. 

Will everything really change? 

Have I put my hope in a transition date? 
The thought causes me to wonder. 
The slowness of the weekend has caused me to wonder. 

I am so weary and tired from the struggle. 
Ways to make ends meet. 
Cash flow projections until my head hurts. 
So afraid of making the slightest mistake. 
Driving kids to activities. 
Micro managing a schedule. 
Each moment filled. 
Tense. 
Irritable.
It's not until I say the words,
"I just need to hang on until May,"
That I realize what I've done. 

Somewhere faith has walked out the door. 
My trust in God in the details has all but walked away. 
I've been holding on so tightly. 
I didn't even know it. 
Fists clenched. 
Jaw tight. 
Pain in my joints when I wake. 
Tension. 
Rushing. 
Here and there. 
So distracted.
A tool used by the enemy. 

I'm missing the lessons in the struggle. 

I do not have eyes to see. 
I shifted the gaze. 
Not by much. 
But enough. 
I moved from the here and now. 
To what lies beyond. 
Skipping through the day. 
Hoping it to end. 
To step into another. 
Just to have it done. 
While along the way. 
Lessons unfold. 
Moments of grace missed. 
Because I didn't slow it down. 
A fast paced life can't be helped. 
Dashing and living may be the season. 

It is the intent with which we live in that season that is crucial. 

There is much to learn in this transition season. 
Much I have missed while racing to have it over; 
to be done with the struggle. 
There is a little over a month to go. 
The hardest stretch. 
The greatest distance. 
I am shaking off the tension today. 
Unclenching my fists. 
God knows about this transition. 
He's aware of every step. 
He is in the struggle. 
He will not let us fall.
The sun is shining again today. 
I'm heading to make crepes for a house full. 
It's vacation. 
A night of sleep overs. 
Blessings abound. 
Lots of giggles. 
I am continuing to slow it down and have eyes to see. 
God shows his love for us; 
not when we're perfect and all refined. 
But when we're at our worst. 
Grace.
He came to change us. 
To make us more like him. 


Romans 5:8
But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: 
While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.

The struggle is real. 
Life is challenging. 
But there are lessons to learn.
God is doing the work. 
It is by his Grace that we will complete this Transition. 
I want Him to receive all the glory. 
This farm is His. 
All that we have is His. 
Yes. 
Even our children are His. 
He is doing something beautiful. 
Even in the pain. 

Lord.
I continue to hand over all my life to you. 
This farm is yours. 
Do as you will. 
Guide us. 

We give you all the Praise and Glory. 

More Waiting

She too waits. 

This sister in law of mine. 
Sister of my farmer.

Who walks the road of grief. 

It's been six months since she stood at the grave.

She waits now for biopsy results. 

Abnormal normal cells; growth on her thyroid. 

We are guaranteed nothing in this world. 

Only God's love. 

It's the constant. 

It's truth. 

There is cancer. 

In her thyroid. 

And it feels for a moment that the earth has shifted. 

Tilted. 

She tells me a funny joke before she tells me the results of the tests. 

Much like her mother. 

But so like her dad. 

And now begins another chapter. 

Reaching. 

Holding tightly. 

There are no assurances this side of heaven. 

We are not promised an easy walk. 

The pain and uncertainty keep coming. 

This is the third sibling with cancer. 

The college girl recoils at the news. 

She asks, "Mom, are we at risk?"

Mortality rearing it's head as the college girl jumps another hurdle. 

I want to protect her and say no. 

She is fine. 

She will live a long life and I will see her walk
 down the aisle in a beautiful wedding dress. 

But you know what?

I don't know that. 

At all. 

I only know that this life is the only one I have. 

That God has a purpose and meaning in everything. 

That there is never, ever a time when He is not in control. 

And so I laugh a belly laugh with my sister in law. 

I pledge to drive her to her appointments. 

She chides me that all I want is the coffee. 

And she's partly right. 

Because who really wants to go to the hospital?

Who really wants to suffer? 
I remind the college girl of truth. 
Of a Savior who loves her; unconditionally. 
This is not our home. 
We were created for more.

Another journey is beginning. 

But one that has passed through the fingers of a most Holy God. 

It is in His name we have strength. 

His name is a strong tower. 

His name is wonderful.  

There is hope, above all else in that precious name. 

No matter what you're facing today.

I pray that you have hope. 

A beautiful hope rooted in deep faith. 

A place where words cease. 

A place so holy one can hear the brush of angel's wings. 

We will continue to give glory to God. 

We will continue to walk strong in the Power of the name of Jesus. 

My sister in law is one of the strongest people I know.

She has weathered so many storms. 

She feels more than any one I know. 

She chose life at a young age and has never wavered. 

We get ready to hang up. 

I tell her I will talk to her tomorrow. 

Tomorrow will come. 

A new day. 

A new dawning. 

All wrapped and held tightly by the One who calls us beloved. 

Joshua 1:9
Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. 
Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, 
for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go."