She's Growing Up And I Am Powerless to Stop It

She flashes those baby blues. 

She is beautiful.

She has grown inches over the past year. 

All the kids have. 

Death and cancer have that effect. 

Her tender heart still unsure. 

Her writing reflecting her struggle. 

She turns 12 today. 

Her last year before the teens. 

And I marvel at how she has grown. 

How this little baby born on one of the holiest of nights,

 has turned into a lovely young woman. 

Her smile lights up a room. 

She is the first to snuggle of all our kids. 

Her spirit; sensitive.

She tests the waters. 

Her words not always gentle. 

This world confusing and frustrating. 

Her desire to be more independent, yet still a child. 

Wanting to grow up too fast. 

And aren't we, the kingdom people, so much like that? 

We wish to move forward, find the answers, often before the time?

We can't be patient with what is here, before us. 

Always wanting more. 

We push instead of waiting.

We step ahead of God. 

We fill space with noise, instead of quiet seeking.

We think we know what's best.  

And I watch this pre-teen. 

My daughter. 

I sense her uneasiness and restlessness. 

 I want to teach her well. 

I want to shield her from more of the worlds heartache and pain.
I don't want her to have lost her brother and watch as her 

father struggled through the days of chemo and radiation. 

But she did. 

I can't shield her. 

Life will continue to come at her. 

These losses will not be her last. 

We can never know what will be in our path. 

But I can equip her for the struggle. 

I can teach her to bend low.

To set her heart in the path of the One who created her. 

I can teach her of the One who breathes life into our weary souls;

who calls forth the wind and the sea. 

The deep joy that transcends earthly indulgences.  

That she is loved, not because of what she does, but because of who she is. 

I can teach her the Ancient Word and the promises set forth before the creation of time. 

Hope. 

Grace for all. . .including herself. 

To make a difference in a world that shuns so much of what we believe. 

These are the things I can do. 

Much she has already learned. 

Yet, there is still much to learn in her journey. 

Until God parts our ways I will stay with bended knee sharing all that I can. 

Daily, I will surrender this child to the King of all, as He wills according to His purpose. 

I will step into joy no matter how long the time with my girl will be. 

Watching as this Christmas Eve gift becomes a woman with the heart of God. 

Proverbs 22:6

Train up a child in the way he should go, 

Even when he is old he will not depart from it. 

He Made Me Laugh

He made me laugh. 

That second born son. 

The one who shoulders the weight. 

The future. 

He made me laugh. 

He loves Christmas.

Always has. 

Little sleep. 

So excited. 

A bundle of joy. 

Energy. 

Complying with my request, for a cup of coffee, before presents, on Christmas morning;
 he will have one waiting. . . long before it is time to be awake. 

Energy. 

Sheer joy. 

Over presents.

Over a babe in a manger.
Wonder. 

Contagious. 

And at 15 that joy is still there. 

I walk into the dining room after my shower. . . and I can hear it. 

And deep down I can feel the joy. 

He has turned on the Christmas music. 

Not just any Christmas music. 

Gene Autrey. . .Brenda Lee. 

Nana's favorite kind. 

The songs stir within a plethora of emotions.

Too early you say? 

Is it? 

Is it too early to rejoice in a gift given?
To find joy amid deep pain.
To take the mundane and turn it around?
I don't think so. 
And when that man/boy plays the Christmas music.
I know deep within there is still a boy.
There is still the pure delight in the age old magic of that starlit night;
when the holy touched the earth.

Isaiah 9:6
For unto us a Child is born,
Unto us a Son is given;

Grace That Visits Your Door, When Your Heart Is Breaking On Christmas Day

I don't want to say we made it through the day. 

But we did. 

How do you celebrate Christmas with your 17 year old son buried deep beneath the winter snow?

How do you breathe in and out missing a part of you?

How do you look at stockings and open presents;

 when your heart is shattered into a millions fragments. 

My boy is gone. And I miss him so much. 

But he has gone where Angels trod.

The same Angels that proclaimed the birth of the Most High, 

The same Angels that declared that He is Risen. 

His work finished, here on this earth. 

And no matter how I want to change that.

 I can't. 

So on Christmas morning we do what we know. 

We head to the manger, while the stars still shine and all is still. 

Before the presents are opened;

 we gather to celebrate the only gift that really matters. 

Our hearts are full.

We arrive home to open presents and finish chores.

And then this family heads to the movies. 

Yes.

On Christmas Day. 

We pack up. 

We do something we rarely do. 

And it was wonderful.

"Saving Mr. Banks", is fabulous movie. It is well done. 

I don't know why it's PG 13.

 It was the perfect movie for Christmas Day. 

Themes of redemption and not letting your past drive you down, but up to something meaningful. 

It was full of hope. 

From there our day continued to be memorable. 

We headed to the airport to pick up a dear cousin. 

Once upon a time ago, I spent all my Christmases with this cousin and his family; his brother too lies deep in the earth. 

Memories swirled in my head thinking back to those times. 

Presents, and happy child glow.

 Music. Always music. 

From the airport we return home to find that the sweetest of step daughter's 

and her family have come a day early. 

They too finding this day out of sorts.

I hold that precious baby.

I haven't finished wrapping or cleaned or made any preparations.

I thought I had another day. 

But it doesn't matter. 

Because sometimes the greatest gifts can't be bought. 

And sometimes God blessings come so unexpected. 

 Childhood memories dance through my head and the treasure of a cousin here in town are what I think about as the day closes on Christmas 2013.

I think about the grace that has visited this farmhouse today.

When it was least expected. 

His Stocking is Empty, But the Manger Isn't; Finding Christmas Joy

His stocking is empty. 

The stocking I made to match with Cedric's.

 A stocking I have filled for 17 precious years. 

Stockings that were 4 and then became 8 and this year would have been 9. 

 But after 17 years.

 It is empty. 

It hangs limp, while all the others burst from the seams; awaiting their precious owners.

But it's not about the stockings, or the tree.

It's not about the presents; but His presence. 

And as I stepped outside this morning, the heavens declared their Majesty. 

The moon and the stars in all their bright, glory rang out the song that Jesus is born. 

He came, He walked this earth, He suffered and died for you and for me. 

But today. 

We celebrate His birth. 

Isaiah 9:6

For unto us a Child is born,
Unto us a Son is given;
And the government will be upon His shoulder.
And His name will be called
Wonderful, Counselor, Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.

We celebrate the joy and the greatest gift he gave; himself. 

So while Elijah's stocking is empty, the manger isn't.

It is full. 

Full of life and joy all for you and me. 

Embrace the gift so freely given. 

We can lay down all that troubles us and leave it in the manger.
We can pick up that baby boy and carry him with us.
And the funny thing is; he will carry us. 

That is grace and mercy. 

Psalm 23:6

Surely your goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, 

and I will dwell in the house of the LORD forever.

We continue to receive blessing from friends and strangers.
A beautiful Christmas bouquet to adorn our table.
Life.
A barn full of help this morning so my farmer can get back to the house for awhile.
The presence of Christ in your life and the presence of your life in another's are the beginnings of understanding this journey.
May you know the untold joy from the presence of Christ in your life.

Merry Christmas from The Davis Farm to all of You 

A Birthday On The Holiest Of Nights

It was such a clear, cold night. 

The stars shone brightly. 

I couldn't sleep. 

Moon beams streamed through the window.

I wondered what Mary, the mother of our Savior, thought about. 

How did she feel? 

Did her feet swell on the way to Bethlehem. How did she make that journey, so with child?

What was she thinking?

 I pondered these things as I was heavy with child;

as I mourned the loss of my Mother in Law.

I pondered these things during Advent as my time grew near. 

I wondered. 

On the night before the celebration of the birth of the Savior of this world. 

My time came. 

And at 12:48 on December 24, 2002, we were blessed with a beautiful baby girl. 

She was so pink.

And so soft.

I had resigned from teaching.
I was going to be a stay at home mom; for the first time. 

And this sweet girl has grown.

And now she is 11. 

I wonder where God will send her on this life journey. 

How will he use her gentle ways?

Her dimpled smile?

This child we weren't expecting. 

This gift.  

Even now;

as we mourn and walk a deep journey of grief and unknown.

She brings us great joy. 

She snuggles and loves to be held. 

This child loves to clean. 

So different from me.

She prefers order in the midst of all our chaos. 

She born on the holiest night of all. 

She is graceful and elegant. 

Happy Birthday our sweet Ana.

Christiana Shirley.

Named after the Grammie she never met.

But who we say kissed that sweet face before she was sent down. 

Because there is a shadow of Shirley in that Christiana. 

Thank you for the lessons you have taught us about slowing down. 

About breathing deep and treasuring moments.

And I wonder what Mary thought.  

Luke 2:17-18

 When they had seen him, they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child, and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them. But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart.

Mark Lowery wrote this song and sings it here. 

I pray on this holy of days that we ponder all that was given; 

all that was sacrificed when the Incarnate came as a babe. 

Sometimes We Just Need A Time Out

I have only been home for about an hour and I can start to feel it. 

The counters are a mess.
There is laundry everywhere.

Food needs to be put away; the dish drainer emptied.
The kids have left their backpacks on the bench and violins and costumes
for the upcoming performance.

 I have been at the hospital all day and coming home to a mess and
uncooperative kids is. . .well, it's just normal.
They are kids.
They've been in school all day and then came home; and they are on vacation and the last thing they are thinking about are the messes.
And that's good. 
They should be thinking about endless days of fun; vacation.
They are not fighting. They are safe.
Elijah's pictures stare back at me and the weight of everything presses down.
I pull off my gloves; I have been washing dishes.
I head into the parlor for a time out.
I need a few moments.
I head right to the only place that sets my heart right.
The only place that will give me peace and turn my wayward thinking around;
to the Christmas Tree. 

No, I head to the Word.
The life giving Word.
But staring at the tree brings me great peace.
I love to sit and stare at things.
My husband used to worry.
Not so much anymore.
He's happy when I am quiet.

Matthew 11:28
Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, 
and I will give you rest.

So much of this journey in life involves surrendering. 

It is an act of the will to lay down your burdens and give them over to the 

One who longs to carry them for us; and fill us with His Peace. 

 He may not take them away;

but he has promised to walk with us, every step of the weary way. 

Deutoronomy 31:6-8

Be strong and courageous. 

Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, 

for the Lord your God goes with you;

 he will never leave you nor forsake you.”

We have finished Day #2 of radiation and Day #1 of chemo.
He has had his Christmas cocktail and his Christmas glow.

For the time the nausea is at bay.
So much of this reminds me of my mom.
The reminding to drink water; seeking if there is a need.
It leaves you feeling helpless while they pump in toxic cocktails
that somehow prolong your life.
My farmer heads to the barn with Cedric.
 It is icy out and the cows are the first priority.

They need a safe place. We do not want any owies this evening.
So he shreds a bale in the pack barn to make the area more palatable.
It is imperative that we continue to ship quality milk and keep the cows healthy and safe.
There is much to be done.Yet it is a good distraction.
It is a focus.
And my farmer warms my heart. He is such a trooper.

Gary joins me on the couch when he comes in. I am watching "It's A Wonderful Life."
But I can't stay awake. The length of the day catches up with me. I head into bed.
Day #1 of Chemo is over.
Only 5 more to go.
I close my eyes and thank God for all the blessings of this day.
I just wish it was snowing instead of being icy. 
So I'll dream about Dean Martin and Jimmy Stewart.

What A Diner, Radiation and Errands Can Do For Your Marriage

We arrive early.

Yes, we were early. 

Gary assured the attendant at the desk that this would never happen again. 

We choose our seats. It is still quiet in this place. 

We gaze around the room. 

We are surprised to see a fully decorated Christmas Tree AND a table full of goodies.
Crackers and cheese. Various Christmas delicacies. 

This is our welcome to Day #1 of radiation.

They call Gary. 

He has a plate of food. 

They ask him if he wants them to come and get him later. 

He pauses. 

I assure them that we want him to go. . . now.
He can take the plate of food.
I want to treasure this moment.
I want to hold tight to each moment when he can eat and feels strong.
I am left alone in the waiting room. I take out the Word and I read.

I am in Job and Isaiah in the Old Testament. 

I am just about to finish my 5th time reading through the bible. I steady my breathing as I let the scriptures; those Ancient Promises wash over me. I feel Job's pain and wrestle with the same God he did. I think on Isaiah's message to a hurting people. He is still the same God. God's word is the same, yesterday, today and forever. 

Surprisingly, Gary is finished quickly and we have completed Day #1 of Radiation. 

We meet with the nurse just to touch base and make sure we are all on the same page. 

Our next stop is the infusion center to connect with the nurse there and to talk through the procedure's during chemo. It is extravagant grace that meets us there in that room. She too a believer in the living God.

 And right there in that hospital we lay it all before the Father. 

I Thessolonians 5:16-18

 Rejoice always,  pray without ceasing,  give thanks in all circumstances; 

for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.

Our healer, Our provider. 

This is twice now. 

To think on the mercy and grace that has been sent our way is truly humbling. Once with the radiation oncologist nurse and now with the medical oncologist nurse. Both, stop. Both pray. Both are joy in the midst of deep, deep sorrow and a journey of the unknown. These are blessings. Gifts from the Lord;  a reminder that He too, is there. 

We finish at the hospital and head to run some errands.
We are both hungry and we begin the process of finding a mutual agreeable place.
He, my beloved husband, will eat anywhere. Or not at all.
This has been the basis of serious negative vibes in our marriage over the years.
Food can bring about alter personalities.
Meals are to be eaten; 3 of them; Everyday.
 Even on vacation.
Even more so on vacation, because I do not have to prepare. . .
 I digress. 
As we are seeking this perfect dining experience.
I notice the Parkway Diner sign. It appears to have lights on. My hopes are raised. 
I swear there is a neon open sign in the window.
My heart skips a beat as the realization that this place is open and I am about to enter.



 It meets every expectation I have.
There are lights around the windows.

Christmas music is playing and the woman behind the counter is perky
and brings me hot coffee. And repeats this task without me ever asking.
(Do you think they know how much I love coffee?)
And I pinch myself just to make sure I haven't stepped into a time warp.

 I think I am in love.
 And I calculate how many days until I can come again.

The rest of our day includes multiple stops for the farm and personal errands.
We need to get a mattress for Eleanor.
Repeatedly she has complained about her mattress being uncomfortable.
We always agree with her.
It is over 40 years old.
It's part of the territory.
It's not until we recline with her on the mentioned mattress that we discover there are springs poking through the mattress. We flip the mattress, because that is what every cheap family does; only to discover. . .somewhere along the line we had already
flipped this mattress because there were springs sticking out of that side as well.
Being the frugal mom I am I had already purchased a deal through one of the internet daily coupons.
(Sorry all guest room users, no new mattress there. You'll still have to roll to the middle)
 It is late when we finally turn toward home.
We are both tired.
We are ready to be home. 

Gary is the first to see it. He says the elves have been at it again.
It's then I see the boxes of food.
 Food left for us.
An abundance.
In the time it took for us to bring the food in to the house.
Another pile of food shows up at the door.
We never saw them.
We eat,  again,
(I really need to get my friend Carole Ann to start walking with me)
The kids are all out. So it is just my farmer and I.
We find it interesting how in the face of all the unknown;
doctors, radiation and chemo- that these times are so much fun for us.
We travel far south on a vacation to the warmth or get away for the evening and it's a disaster.
But put us at the hospital and we're like two kids, just starting to date.
It was this way with Elijah.
He resisted his way into this world with all he had.
We spent days and nights at the hospital trying to force his entry.
To no avail.
He was brought in against his will.
Funny how he was taken so quickly.
Yet these time together, my farmer and I are gifts and treasures.
We remember them fondly.
As Cedric used to say. . .It's all how you look at it. 

And do you see it?
Can you feel the Power moving slowly?
 It is the presence of the Holy Spirit ministering to our hurting hearts.
Can you see it moving?
I don't know why we are on this journey.
I still don't like it. 
And I miss my red headed boy with every fiber of my being. I yearn for him. My soul aches.
Yet, through the grief, there is God's presence.
He is there. He hasn't left.
He will be there.

3 Roses, 3 Years. . .Not Quite

3 Roses. 

3 years. . .not quite.

I see them silhouetted against the white back drop.

How does an 18 year old journey without her future? 

All she held dear; wrapped in a red headed boy that stole her heart;

now lies deep beneath the earth. 

Buried with her hopes and dreams.

Her memories her only solace.

In time, she will move on. 

She will continue to live; and all this, some day, will be a shadow of who she once was. 

It will be part of her story. Of what makes her who she is. 

This young girl has become so dear to my heart. 

She spent the last hours with him. 

She, the last to hear his voice; feel his embrace. 

My heart threatens to cease it's beat. 

She whose soft and gentle ways captured the heart of the red headed boy. 

I want it all to be just a dream.

I stare at the roses. 

My heart breaks for her. 

It really might shatter one of these days. 

A mama loves her babes. 

And to have the life torn from you, leaves you heaving heavy. 

I lift my eyes to the heavens. 

The snow falls softly. 

I continue to breathe in deep the fresh air;  great gasps as I cling to all that I know;

 as I recite scripture and bring all the world back into alignment. 

3 roses.

My heart slows. 

I walk slowly to the car. 

To my walk that is left here on this earth. 

To the chemo and radiation. 

To bills and the dark of winter.

To Christmas, minus one. 

To grace poured out for me. 

To the only place I can put my hope. 

My steps are stronger now. 

Matthew 11:28

Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened,

 and I will give you rest.

I will find rest in the solace of the One who came as a babe. 

The greatest gift for all mankind, found in a manger. 

The One who called Elijah into being and the One who numbered his days. 

Here is a different Hallelujah.

One which reaches deep down to touch the Holy. 

May all your words be Hallelujah as you walk your journey on this earth. 

Even when you're broken, lost and hurting. 

May you know the everlasting hope that was given for you; the joy wrapped in swaddling cloth. 

And I think somewhere this song is being played in the heavenlies, 

with a red head playing the tympani. 

When What Looms Ahead, Seems Insurmountable

Just before I fall asleep I tell my farmer, I don't want to watch him go through chemo and radiation. I watched my mom's journey for 9 years and I have lost my son. I really don't know how much more my heart can take. How can I add more pain to our already broken hearts? I love this farmer with all my heart. He sighs in the quiet and holds me close. There are no need for words. 

Me the city girl moved to the farm.

 I think back to the early days of us dating and our marriage. Oh, how little I knew about the farming way. There is still much I do not know; much I do not understand about this way of life. But I have yielded my life to this land. It's rhythms have become my meter for living. We order our time by the needs of the seasons.

 My farmer and his crew bow low before the Father before they begin each day. 

My farmer is good at what he does. But he is getting tired. With one son in the grave and the other with one foot in adolescence, the future of the farm is very unknown. Add a diagnosis of cancer and side effects that loom, we are faced with many heavy decisions. These weigh us down. These compound all we do. With minds already foggy with grief these other decisions seem a bit daunting. 

Yet we are not without hope. We know who holds the future. God already has a plan. I do not know what it is or when he will reveal it. But in his time he will make all things known. For now, I am called to obedience; to live in humble submission. And as we continue in this glorious season of Advent, we will continue to wait upon the lord. We will continue to trust.

                  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.

We will be renewed and refreshed and given grace just for the day. We are not to worry about tomorrow. And really, that's a good thing. It falls right into my, not planning personality. Though this journey has me having to plan a little. We continue to be amazed at all the love and support sent our way. Packages with wooden crosses for Gary to hold. Rocks with scripture verses. A lap quilt for those chilly chemo sessions. 

So thoughtful, so encouraging. 
So, if God brings us to mind, would you pray for us? Would you pray for the nurses and doctors. Would you add all other's who walk this road to your list too? There are so many. 
May God use our lives for His Glory. May we be an encouragement to others.
And may we all be uplifted, no matter the path we are walking. 
As long as it is a well worn path straight to the father, we will never walk alone. 

Will you consider grabbing a delicious, warm cup of coffee and listening to this song. 
Really listen. 
I have loved this song, since I was a child. 
Here is a less traditional style.
One of Elijah's favorite groups.

A weary world rejoices. Oh, I am so weary, but I know there is joy in rejoicing.
He knows our need; our weakness is no stranger. BEHOLD your King! 
Ah, he knows our needs. . .And BEHOLD our King. Oh, how our son rejoices in that Glory, 
with the King, the God of all the Universe! 
It pains me, but brings great peace as well. 
Have ears to hear. Be awake this Advent, to all our God can do in your life. 

O Holy Night
By 10th Avenue North