Independence and a Birthday

She sits on my lap. 

She's so long.

She tries to curl in a ball. 

Those legs are not letting her. 

Our firecracker. 

The youngest;

is 11. 

The 4th of July a fitting birthday. 

Her eyes twinkle and sparkle like her dad's;

though, the color of mine. 

She reaches first for babies. 

Soothes them like no other. 

A gift. 

A beautiful sunset will not escape her notice. 

She will attempt to capture the beauty.

She can teeter on the edge of wrath one moment and love 

whole heartedly in the next. 

She is fiercely independent. 

Like the holiday of her birth. 

Her faith working itself out. 

Softening the edges as she lives. 

A tender heart;

Explosive temper. 

Learning to accept and extend grace. 

She is growing. 

She creates beauty through music. 

She is the last. 

The next generation begun. 

And I've tried to learn from the others. 

To sit longer. 

To hold the moment. 

I don't want to miss anything. 

We get so busy living we sometimes miss that which is in front of us. 

I've tried hard. 

This day also marks the first day of our blog. 

With the encouragement of our children I began to write

 down my streams of consciousness. 

My thoughts. 

It has become a life line for me as I work through deep grief,

a challenging farming season, and our young ones flying the coop. 

This will also be the last blog on this site! 

Stay tuned for new and exciting things to come!!

Check our face book or this site for a new and improved look!

Our prayer for you all this Independence day is that you know sweet Freedom. 

Freedom from all that can weigh you down. 

That you know that you are loved beyond anything that you could ever imagine. 

There is a hope so sure. 

A plan set in motion before time began. 

Your life has purpose. 

Your life has meaning. 

We all can help to make this journey here on earth a better one. 

One day we will be called home. 

But until that day, there is much work to be done. 

Seek. 

Ask. 

You will find. 

Matthew 7:7

"Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; 

knock and the door will be opened to you.

The Assurance of Knowing

Often we are stretched. 

Beyond what we feel we can handle. 

We breathe deep. 

We long for relief. 

Yet, these circumstances are here to help us grow. 

To change us. 

It's been 35 months of being stretched. 
There are many more months to go. 
The missing deep. 

The walk each day a choice. 
 I am only responsible for the here and now. 
To live this moment in surrender. 
I will let the rest of the moments be dealt with in time. 

In the pew, on Sunday, the children sat between my farmer and I . 
4 of them. 

I breathed deep. 
I want to remember this moment. 
To not forget. 
These are beautiful glimpses. 
Snapshots really. 

Our Pastor displays a quote. 

For it is one thing to see the Land of Peace from a wooded ridge, and yet another to walk the road that leads to it.” -Augustine

Oh, how I know this journey. 
This road. This road. 
Yet, I know the peace that travels with me on the journey; 
and the peace that awaits at the end is far greater than all I could imagine. 

We here at the Davis Farm will continue to walk
 that road that leads to peace. 

We will stand firm in hope. 

We long for you to know that hope. 
The laying down. 
All. 
To surrender. 
All.
To the One who longs to pick you up. 
Who went to the Cross. 
For All. 
That assurance of knowing. 

Matthew 7:13-14
"Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it.

Saying, "Yes", When You Want to Scream, "No"

Elijah. 

They say his name. 

Cleaning out a closet they find something that was his. 

Elijah. 

I just want to hear his name called. 

I miss saying it. 

You see when your son is taken. 

Things change. 

So when they mention his name. 

My heart skips a beat. 

17 years of memories. 

His future just beginning. 

Hope. 

I long for that which I can not have. 

We're going to the drive in. 

A place I have avoided. 

A place I have tried to find excuses not to go. 

So far. 

It's worked. 

This time. 

There was no easy way to say no. 

My friend asked if we wanted to go. 

Our families. 

Together. 

Feeling brave. 

I said, "yes".

Later my friend, so sensitive,

 recognized that this might be hard. 

I told her it was ok. 

It is ok to journey to the the last place my son went. 

The drive in.

The night he never came home. 

He couldn't find his debit card. 

I raided our "laundry money". 

He was so excited. 

His girl friend was home. 

He hadn't seen her in weeks. 

July 27. 

He went. 

Never to return. 

His bed empty. 

A heart ache that never ends. 

My life forever changed. 

Here I am. 

Almost 3 years later. 

He is not here. 

He resides with the King of All Kings. 

And I miss him. 

I get tired of the missing. 

I get tired of wanting our family to be whole. 

In so many ways the LORD has reached down and soothed that ache. 

He has allowed me much grace to walk this road. 

He has never left our side. 

His presence felt when the way is hard. 

 Yet this I fight against. 

The driven in. 

I don't want to do this. 

This is a place I do not want to go. 

Isn't that the way? 

We fight what we need to go through. 

The pain of growing. 

Becoming more like him. 

That's all I've ever wanted. 

Was to be like Him. 

A heart that yields. 

A life well lived. 

So, I will go. 

I will do yet another hard thing. 

This missing is hard work. 

Because you spend your time trying not to miss. 

Trying to be whole. 

Oh how sweet the LORD is as he reaches down and comforts us. 

When we do the hard thing,

 God shows up in ways we could not imagine. 

He offers grace. 

We made new memories at the drive in. 

Ones I will cherish forever. 

Grab hold of the journey God has placed you on. 

He will guide your steps. 

He's never promised it would be easy. 

But he has promised to travel with you. 

Don't be afraid of the hard things. 

Stop putting off what needs to be done. 

He will carry you when you can't go further. 

He will hold you like no other. 

You are held. 

He will reach the deepest parts and fill them with His Holy Spirit. 

Standing on those promises today. 

And a lot of coffee. 

Because going to the drive in means a late night.

Won't you join me? 

Standing on those promises? 

Exodus 14:14

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

Natalie Grant

Held

"Who told us we'd be rescued

What has changed and

Why should we be saved from nightmares

Were asking why this happens to us

Who have died to live, it's unfair

This is what it means to be held

How it feels, when the sacred is torn from your life

And you survive

"That the promise was, when everything fell,

We'd be held..."

Turning Father's Day Right Side Up

Rising early each morning, my farmer heads to the barn.

Never complaining. 

Morning his favorite time. 

He's never upset to milk alone. 

He takes his time. 

Enjoying the quiet. 

Our children have appreciated this time as well. 

Moments spent with their father beneath a sea of stars. 

The chill of the early morning; stimulating. 

Walking with purpose. 

Cows to bring to the barn. 

Wildlife. 

Unfamiliar sounds. 

All part of the memory. 

Our journey to Organic Certification complete.

It has been quite an experience. 

Still waiting for that first check. 

Many cows dry. 

Making cash flow so difficult. 

Milk prices so low. 

The waiting seeming to take forever. 

We've learned much in this transition. 
Yet my farmer stays steadfast. 

The farm is a great teacher. 
Patient. 
Yielding. 
Strong.
Demanding. 

Much like my farmer. 
Much like my father. 
Much like my father in law. 
Three influential men in my life. 

Three men I learned from. 

Each sharing unique pieces of my Heavenly Father. 

My father, this year, will spend Father's Day in heaven. 

It will be 3 weeks tomorrow since he journeyed home. 
Sweet reunions. 
His mind fluid. 
Rejoicing. 
This brings a sense of peace to my soul. 
The memory thief had taken so much. 

My Father in law also resides with the King of Kings. 

A hard working man who loved fiercely with out words. 
Who worked 2 jobs to provide for his family. 
A man who bowed low to the King of Kings with all his being. 

I wake this morning with the goal of a Thankful heart. 

Each moment will be captivated by gratitude. 

I will push away grief. 

With the help of Holy Spirit this day will be beautiful. 

My farmer;

is an amazing dad. 

His selfless dedication to our family; a gift. 
His daughter has chosen well. 

Fatherhood embraced. 

His love for the Lord and this land deeply embedded in his soul.

Today we honor these men. 

I am grateful for each of their part in helping to shape who I am today. 

I am deeply grateful to my heavenly Father for allowing me to have had such wonderful men in my life. 

May you choose today to find joy. 
To take what may have been broken and see the strength 
gained from a hard walk. 
Take time to seek the good. 
Let God shape you in His image. 
Our broken parts become beautiful in light of His grace. 

In 1971,Elisabeth Elliot, had this to say about Fathers. 
Article on Fathers, by Elisabeth Elliot

Psalm 147:1
Praise the LORD. How good it is to sing praises to our God,
 how pleasant and fitting to praise him!

When You Become the Same Age as Your Brother

He's turning 17.

That farm boy. 

The same age as his brother. 

No longer here. 

The two so similar.

Yet so different. 

My heart aches. 

The farm boy is full of ideas.

So creative.

Full of energy and youth. 

He loves deeply.

Plays hard.

Confident. 

Yet is haunted by the joy thief. 

He rises to fight. 

He digs deep to keep two feet planted. 

He's growing corn; trading vehicles. 

Making payments on a tractor. 

Building his future. 

Yet these things he holds lightly in view of eternity. 

Because that's his desire. 

A life lived in surrender. 

No matter the struggle. 

While he works to create his path,

 he rests in the One who is making that path. 

I watch as the farm boy heads out the door. 

I think about the day he was born. 

Labor beginning just as the alarm sounds to head to the barn at 3 a.m.. 

His arrival at 4:19 a.m.

Born just as milking begins. 

Quick.

He's grown about 5 inches this year. 

No longer a young boy. 

He's a man. 

And it's hard on the mama. 

I want to fight his battles. 

I want the world to be nice to him. 

I want to shield him from the death of his brother and everything else.

He's my boy. 

But he is God's boy first. 

And long ago on a Sunday morning I handed over the

authority to the One who called us to life. 

I surrendered this beautiful child to the King of all Kings. 

I remember that vow. 

I hold tightly to knowing God is fighting for him; more than me. 

God is rejoicing over him. 

Zephaniah 3:17

The Lord your God is with you,

    the Mighty Warrior who saves.

He will take great delight in you;

    in his love he will no longer rebuke you,   

 but will rejoice over you with singing.

So today, I rejoice. 

It is work. 

Some day it won't be. 

I walk the path of gratitude for his life. 

I shake off the "what ifs". 

Happy Birthday Cedric Trevor Davis. 

You are a gift and a treasure. 

I looking forward to how God will use you for His glory. 

Thank you for your energy and zest in this life. 

May your blue eyes always twinkle. 

Saying Good Bye is Never Easy

The call came early Monday morning. 
A week ago.

Memorial Day. 

The catch in his voice. 

I knew. 

I hoped it was something else. 

Some other reason. 

My brother had called to share that our 
beloved Dad had journeyed to be with the Lord. 

Gone; from this earth. 

That deep ache; the constant pain rubbed raw. 

Another loss. 

The walk of grief well worn. 
The path of gratitude in need of work. 

I begin the journey to my dad. 
This time to say good bye. 

Making arrangements all so familiar. 
My brothers and I worked together to honor our dad. 
We laughed at memories. 
We rejoiced over sweet reunions in heaven. 

The time together is good. 
My farmer and the rest of the kids join us. 
These moments; are defining. 
Setting the stage for the journey ahead. 
Our parents are gone. 

We now, the Senior members.

With Military Honors we lay dad to rest. 

We turn from that Cemetery for the 2nd time. 
We leave behind our parents. 
The ones who gave us life. 
Who poured into our beings to make us who we are. 
69 and 73. 
Both seem too young. 
Yet both in God's timing. 
Both rejoicing with Elijah. 
We begin our journey back to my brother's house. 
Time; ever moving forward. 
The march. 
The necessity. 
There is still much to do. 
A home full of memories; 
needing to be sorted and dispersed. 

A strange process.

We part ways again. 
My brothers and I. 
Me back to my family. 
They to theirs.
All of us changed. 

These losses continually remind me;
 we were not meant for death. 
Our journey; Life. 
Life everlasting. 
All that is within us recoils at death. 
The pain. 
The ache. 
Our purpose is life.
 My heart is heavy and I am sad. 
There has not been much time to grieve. 
A friend sent a note. 
Dad's death a double sorrow. 

She's so right. 
The memory thief steals the mind. 
Death steals the body. 
But God holds them both. 

We now, are the memory keepers. 
And those memories were beautiful. 
A legacy of life and fun. 
Service and faith. 

Thank you Dad for your service to this country. 

Thank you for instilling that love is us. 
We are grateful for the love of the ocean and family. 
No matter how hard things get; we stick together. 

 I feel weary. 
Weary from the weight. 
From the week. 
Grief heavy. 
Grief is work. 
Taking those wise words from my dad,
Chin up, shoulders straight, fly right. 

Thanks dad. 

Psalm 136:1
Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good. 
His love endures forever.