Let The Storms Rage Around You

Twisting, turning, boiling. 

The chaos swirls around. 

A child testing all authority. 

A friend in a health crisis. 

My mom's birthday. 

Laundry, dishes. 

Friction in the home. 

Graduation looming. 

Memories that bring searing pain. 

So many things to pull me under. 

So many distractions to draw my focus from the One answer. 

Deep grief weighing heavily. 

Change on the horizon. 

So much change. 

I can not quiet the raging pace of life. 

I can not control the responses of all around me. 

I can only quiet the inside. 

I can only reach for the beauty and peace of our Savior. 

For the grace given for the day. 

2 Corinthians 12:9

But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me.

The storms will rage. 

The fast pace and repeated demands; never ending. 

See, it's not about just about ordering or controlling all that happens around us. 

It's about what happens on the inside. 

This world will throw all it's got at us. 

It's enough to push us down and keep us there. 

That is not God's plan. 

It is not His intent for us. 

He desires more for us. 

He yearns for us to live right smack dab in the center of the chaos. 

Yup. 

Right there. 

Between the runny noses and dirty diapers.

Between the drug and purity talks. 

Through the limited cash flow, low milk prices and repeated break downs. 

During lost game shorts, late nights, heated discussions and fiery tempers. 

When there's  homework, poor grades, poor attitudes and hurtful and hateful words.

John 14:27

Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. 

Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.

Yup. Right there. 

He wants our praise. 

Psalm 18:2

The LORD is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer; 

my God is my rock, 

in whom I take refuge, my shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold.

He wants our deepest part. 

The yucky part that just yelled at the kids. 

The part that desires to just walk away from it all because it's too much. 

Yeah. That part. 

He's big enough and loves us enough to want it all. 

We need to be transparent; he knows it all anyway. 

We can't hide. 

So why pretend?

We're broken. 

We're frail. 

We mess up. 

Big time. 

And you know what? 

He gets it. 

When we turn and repent. 

When we say, I'm so sorry. 

He's there. 

With open arms. 

Waiting. 

His message is forgiveness. 

His offering; grace. 

May you step into that grace today. 

Let the storms rage all around you. 

While resting in the sweetness of the One who called you by name. 

Isaiah 43:1

But now, this is what the LORD says-- he who created you, Jacob, he who formed you, Israel: "Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by name; you are mine.

Grief Is Work And It Takes Time

Some days the breathing is hard. 

As if I take a breath and all will spill over. 

The breath that will split the scar. 

The ache that lies just beneath the surface. 

Day after day. 

The missing. 

The longing. 

One more word. 

One more hug. 

A future. 

Where would he be right now? 

How is he feeling? 
I want to be numb. 
I don't want to feel the pain. 
It sears and burns. 

This thought line is in vain. 

It leaves an emptiness that can never be filled. 

These desires unfulfilled; this side of eternity. 
The focus of my thoughts in need of a shift. 
My downward glance forced to move. 
Steps.

Steps to the cross. 

Step by aching step. 
Release. 

The relentless giving over that brings the peace. 

The turning from the earthly grit to look upon the heavenly throne. 

Because there. . .

There in lies the hope. 

The majesty. 

The purpose. 

We are here. 

For a reason. 

We were created. 
By His hands. 

For His purposes. 

No matter how the agony of this world settles in; there is always hope. 

Hope in Christ. 

Hope in more than I can fathom.

As the days continue their march. 

As the waves of grief surface and catch me off guard, I turn. 

I reach and dig for the truth. 

The truth that sets us free. 

The truth that reminds me I am His. 

He will never leave me nor forsake me. 

No matter how the pain cripples. 

He is stronger. 

While I continue to grapple with the unknown. 

The future with out my son. 

I know that my Redeemer has ransomed my soul. 

I have been bought with a price and He will never let me go. 

It's been 21 months since I have seen this child of mine. 

Ah, since I have gazed into those baby blues. 
How I long to hear his voice. 
My mama's heart torn forever.
Yet there is a promise. 
Before the foundation of time. 

This is not our home. 

We are strangers passing through. 

John 14:1-2
Jesus said, "Let not your heart be troubled; believe in God, believe also in Me. In My Father's house are many dwelling places; if it were not so, I would have told you; for I go to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again, and receive you to Myself; that where I am, there you may be also."

God is actively preparing a place for us. 
Better than we can ever imagine. 
Our focus and our hope remains there. 
Our work here to continue to share God's message. 
To spread his love. 
To share and live in truth. 
To give hope to the weary travelers. 
As Spring begins, new buds begin to show. 
The old is cast off. 

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.

I am waiting to see what God will do. 
I am open to his leading. 
I want to know how he will take this broken hearted mama and use this pain for his glory. 
But I need to be open and ready. 
If I am stuck in the grief and glorifying the pain, I won't have eyes to see. 
This is my work. 
May the work you need to do in your soul be wrapped in the glory of the Holy One. 
May He guide each of your steps as you hold tightly to the promises given. 

David Crowder
I Am

. . .Never let go 
never leave my side. 
I Am holding on to you.
I Am holding on to you
In the middle of the storm 
I am holding on
I Am.

Those Ancient Words

.

The Ancient Words

Helping. 

Spreading hope. 

Our compass. 

Guiding and encouraging. 

Truth. 

And a reminder in a song. 

Those words are holy. 

Handed down through generations. 

Faithful ones, sharing their journey. 

Changing us. 

Molding us into the children we were created to be. 

The sustenance in my life. 

Evermore so these past 17 and a half months. 

When time stopped.

The Ancient Word breathing life. 

Word by word. 

Though by thought. 

Reminder by reminder. 

The Captain at the helm. 

Guiding.

Steering toward the end. 

The final walk,

Life eternal. 

Forever in Glory. 

Michael W. Smith

Ancient Words

For 17 Months Our Hearts Have Been Held By; God, A Community and Family, We Are So Grateful

A silent, still night. 

The ache  remains. 

Even after 17 months. 

2 birthday's.

2 Christmases. 

And much in between. 

A loneliness along with the  ache. 

I have lost my  child. 
Our  family so changed. 
And sometimes I feel lonely.

I feel like I was part way through a really great book,

 one I have loved  to read. 

And now the rest of the book is gone. 

Never to be finished. 

Year One, you are numb when you decorate the Christmas Tree. 

The Ornaments, they leave you gasping for air. 

Year after year a legacy. 

An ornament for each child, each year; dated. 

Her handwriting a reminder. 
My mom giving memories each year in an ornament.
 A gift, I have come all too suddenly to understand. 

So beautiful.
Each first, resounds with hollow echoes of what life was like and now so different.
The ache, deep,  steps defaulting to the well worn path etched in our being.
A numbness permeates all  you do.
A daily bowing in humbleness before the father for grace enough to make it through the day.
An endless sea of warm hearts making dinners, meeting  basic needs.

Philippians 4:19
And my God will meet all your needs according to the riches of his glory in Christ Jesus.


Somewhere, somehow you touch earth, delicately at first.
Testing to see if you can stand.
Looking at all around you as if for the first time.
Because what once was will never be again.

Your dear child lies in the cold, dark of the earth.
The child you carried and hoped for, now, gone.

And no matter how much you know you will see him again,
no matter how deep the faith and trust in the One true God,
the reality remains that this side of eternity that boy will never be.

There will be no graduation from the Marine Corps and watching as his career grows.
There will never be a wedding and I will never have the honor of dancing the mothers dance with my red headed boy.
There will be no mini hims carrying on the Davis name and silly antics.
The list will go on until you lose who you are and long for the guttural screams. 
It is not until the act of turning takes place that the journey can continue.
The act of the sacrifice of praise.

The 17 years we did have.
The treasured memory of an event spent together.
It is these moments that God reaches in and fills the shattered heart with the Holy Spirit.
It is a supernatural occurrence.
There is peace and a contentment in who this God of the Universe really is.
Because Year two the veil and fog that pulled you through year one has dissipated and you are left with raw, exposed emotions.
You take each one of those ornaments with the date and the year and you hold them to your heart. Longing to reach through the years and have time. 

And here your mind dwells on all the memories.

These seconds are hard. 

The fog has lifted and the raw grief is there. 

The walk continues through. 

There is no way around. 

Some days the heaviness weighs. 

I try so hard to rise above. 

I ask God for wisdom and strength.

Because it's too heavy to carry alone. 

Matthew 28:20
 And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age."

17 months ago. I was wakened in the night. 

17 months ago this morning I stepped onto my porch. 

This is what I saw. 

The visitors had left. 

I had called our friends to come over. 
My heart had ceased beating for a time. 
My mind unsteady and unclear. 

When I look at this picture, I am reminded of the peace
 that descended to my soul that morning. 
The beauty of creation; a universal language. 
The praise uninhibited. 
Even in raw grief. 

The God of Universe, who called all things into being placed a heart in the sky. 

A broken heart. 

I don't read much into things. 

I don't pretend to say that makes it better. 

Because I'd take my son back in a heart beat in exchange for the image in the sky. 

(Though my farmer wouldn't)

But it's all connected. 

The ache. 

The heart

 The death. 

It's part of God's plan. 

Funny thing is, often we don't know what God's plan will be. 

We see glimpses and pieces. 

Snippets out of order. 

Rarely do we get to see the whole picture.

But He knows. 

He knows what He is doing. 

It is in trusting, where the grace and mercy touch down. 

And 17 months ago when Gary walked into church to share that Elijah met Jesus early that morning, God knew what He was doing. 

Grace walked through those church doors. 

And no matter how I hurt. 

No matter how much I miss that red headed boy of mine.

God is still in control. 

No matter how difficult every activity is. 

God is still there. 

The milk prices will drastically drop, My farmer and daughter will go on a missions trip. 
Cancer will loom. 

The world will still spin. 

And God will still be glorified on His throne. 
I had him for 17 years. 
He's been gone for 17 months. 

17 months feels so long. 

But it doesn't compare with all of eternity. 

Our gaze is to be to the cross. 

The symbol of suffering and shame; glorified to hope and salvation. 

We walk in uneasy times. 

Hope must be our quest. 
There is coming a day. 
And oh, how my spirit longs. 

Faith Hill
There Will Come A Day

I Have A Son, Who Is Rejoicing With The King of Kings

Facebook posts declare it. 
Pictures show it. 
Families reunited. 
Students returning home from college for the holidays. 
Church is full of those boys and girls; home. 
It is Lessons and Carols, a beautiful service,
 celebrating the birth and coming Savior.
There is excitement and hugs. 
Joy. 
I am numb. 
I sit and literally focus on breathing in and out. 
The hollowness overpowering.
My boy is not coming home. 

While I am grateful for those happy, sweet reunions. 
I can't experience that. 
And I so long to. 
My boy lies six feet under in the cold, hard packed earth. 

I want to hear how he is doing and look into those baby blue eyes,
 see that crooked grin. 
I want a future.
Yet that is never to be, 
And I feel robbed. 
I continue to focus on breathing. 
In and out. 
My heart beating with the searing ache. 
You see, the walk of grief is not an easy one. 
It is always there, waiting to consume you. 
There is a power in the world that would love to see us fail;
would love to see us crumble under the weight of all this pain. 

So, the reaching is deep. 
Deep to shake off the heaviness. 

To remember:

Job 14:5
A person's days are determined; you have decreed the number of his months
 and have set limits he cannot exceed.


Our boy resides with the King of Glory. 
The same King whom we wait for, this Advent Season. 
The babe in a manger; come for all.
The Incarnate. 
Immanuel. 
God With Us. 
You see, God set the world in motion. 
He created us.
We are His. 
Chosen. 
Held by Him. 
Even when the unthinkable happens. 
The grace given for each moment is there. 

Because this isn't all there is. 

The hope that awaits each believer is rich. 
Our souls were created to serve our Savior. 
To yield to the Master's Touch. 
Sin has marred so much of that relationship. 
But it has not overcome. 
No, indeed, Christ has overcome all so that we might live. 

All of creation has been in rebellion since the Fall and the only anecdote is a Redeemer. 
One who came as a babe. 
One whose mother cried out in fear and stepped into a walk of faith. 
A blessed woman. 

Her voice rings sweet and clear in that church. 
 A young teen, who has walked a rough road. 
A heart that has yielded to Him, who reigns on high. 
Her song, based on the Magnificat. 
My heart resonates with the words she sings. 
Because, I am scared, nearly terrified. 
I don't know how to walk this road. 
And the thoughts a life without Elijah terrify me. 
A life without my farmer looms continually. 
So, I settle in and listen to the wisdom of a young woman whose knee has bended. 
Much like the young woman centuries ago. 
Who said yes to the possibilities. 

Words and Music by
Hannah Loggins

But, I am scared, I am nearly terrified, but your peace, it calms my heart
And I know that you'll bring me through, that I can lean on you
Behold I'm a servant of the Lord let it be to me according to your Word


Lord, Let it be to me according to your Word. 
Let it be no other way. 
Because a walk through the pain with you, is better than any other way. 

May these final days in Advent find you able to say Mary's words. 

Are we not blessed to walk a road, no matter how rough, 
with a God who has gone before us? 

I have a son who is rejoicing over the birth of the Savior. 

His joy complete. 
His walk finished. 

My prayer for you is to know this holy peace, no matter the road traveled. 

It's Not Just Resting, It's Resting In Day #16 of Thankfulness

It is when we feel least like being thankful that real gratitude is found. 

This week has been a struggle to find the thankful. 

Each day work. 

Staying the course. 

Seeking. 

Because gratitude takes eyes to see. 

A veil pulled back. 

Pushing through the moments. 

It's not an emotion or a feeling. 

It is life style. 

1 John 2:17

The world and its desires pass away, 

but whoever does the will of God lives forever.

A way of life. 

The morning hours are fading.

The work of the day stretching out; untouched. 

Today is Sabbath.

Sabbath - a day or time of rest

May you find rest today. 

Rest from heartache and pain. 

Rest from the work it takes. 
  Not a punishment or cruel set of rules. 
Not a "don't do" list.
But a "call to' list. 
A gift to the people.
A call to rest in the Holy.
An act. 
A conscious movement. 
To rest. 
Rest in the God who, himself, rested.

Genesis 2:2-3
By the seventh day God completed His work which He had done, and He rested on the seventh day from all His work which He had done. Then God blessed the seventh day and sanctified it, because in it He rested from all His work which God had created and made.

May you rest in the One who longs to hold your weary soul. 

Make this day different.
Set apart. 

In Gratitude. 

30 Days of Thankfulness~

I am thankful for:
Days spent at home
breaks in the routine
trucks being built in our shop
music blaring with lots of giggles and foot stomping
neighbors
flannel sheets
little girl snuggles
poached eggs made by the farmer
quilts and blankets
strong coffee in a large mug
comfy furniture
quiet morning hours
a day of rest to rest in the Holy

We Need To Be About The Business Of Turning. Is Your Soul Up To The Challenge? I Dare You. Day # 15 of Thankfulness

Most days I do not want to be thankful for anything. 
 I want to step into the pit that says woe is me and stay there. 
I want to let the pain over take me. 
Each day is work.
Work to surrender. 
It is a conscious effort to step toward the holy each day. 
I wake. 
I remember. 
I hand it all over.
It is the way of the morning; before my feet touch the ground. 
(even before coffee-some things need to be done without coffee)
All my thoughts, all my desires surrendered. . . an emptying.
Even before I get out of bed. 
Each day. 
Work.
Before death and before cancer, I was struggling with some issues;
parenting, financial, a cluttered messy house.  .   . to name a few. 
I felt powerless.
I was praying and praying, asking God for guidance. 

On June 21,2013
He gave me this verse as I was reading:

Psalm 119:59 
I have considered my ways and I have turned my steps to your statutes. 
I will hasten and not delay to obey your commands

I was convicted of ways I was not following through on obedience. 
It is in the act of turning, that Christ is glorified and that victory is found. 
When we turn from the behaviors that threaten to pull us under. 
We literally need to stop. 
And turn. 
From that which we know is not pleasing to God. 
After the accident and during cancer on 
October 21, 2013 God again showed me: 

2 Timothy 2:19 
Everyone who confesses the name of the 
LORD must turn away from wickedness.

We need to be about the business of Turning.
Turning our hearts to God. 

Psalm 22:27
All the ends of the earth will remember and turn to the LORD, 
And all the families of the nations will worship before You.

Turning our thoughts to Praise

Psalm 150:6
Let everything that has breath praise the LORD. 
Praise the LORD.

God has promised to turn our mourning into dancing. 

Psalm 30:11
You turned my wailing into dancing; 
you removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy, 
That is one of the beautiful things about a faith journey, hand in hand with the Lord. 
He commands, yet his commands are followed by promises. 
Promises which He is faithful to uphold. 

I dare you to turn today. 

Turn from the idols that hold you in bondage. 
Turn to Christ. 
Turn from the behaviors that threaten to pull you under. 
Turn to the one who created you. 
It takes effort. 
The ruts we have created over the years are worn deep. 
But with the Lord on your side . . you have nothing to fear. 

Romans 8:31
What, then, shall we say in response to these things? 
If God is for us, who can be against us?

There is none like him. 

Chris Tomlin

Our God - If Our God Is For Us

30 Days of Thankfulness~

I am thankful for:
a day spent with my girls
singing in the car with reckless abandon
finding my farmer son playing a game I haven't seen in just about a year
his creativity
a peaceful evening 
snow that is "sticking' around
the hope of a new day
that even when I wake with the heaviness in my heart there is a Savior I can run to
a steaming cup of coffee
a Savior that reached down made me new
the quiet hush in the morning before the farmhouse stirs
the opportunity to pray for the person/persons who are breaking into our cars
farming and the constant reminder to press on
mounds and mounds of laundry, that somehow just appears
dirty floors, which mean my house is full
this journey of thankfulness in year 2 of my grief walk