Alone

Alone.
That's how I find myself this week. 
Plans to spend time with the youngest. 
Changed. 
And now. 
Alone. 
At first. 
I do not know how to react. 
Alone. 
In a room. 
A clean room. 
2 beds. 
Meals prepared. 
Solid biblical preaching. 
All alone. 
My own schedule. 
Clean towels everyday. 
Coffee. 
Everywhere. 
In the room. 
In the lobby. 
In the dining hall. 
Alone. 
I don't do alone. 
I find someone to accompany me to the store. 
I fight off the panic that threatens. 
It is then that I hear the small voice. 
Commune with me. 
How I have longed for more time to dig deep. 
To study the word. 
Commune with me. 
I don't know if I can.
This God that I want to know intimately, allowed my son to be taken. 
He allowed my husband to have cancer. 
He has allowed our finances to be stretched. 
In short amounts of time he allowed my Aunt, my parents best friend and my mom to journey home. 
He allowed my parents dog and our puppy to die premature deaths. 
He has allowed my dad to date the memory thief. 
He is also the same God who allowed a beautiful grand daughter to be born. 

Commune with me,  he says. 
I love Him and I will serve him. 
Yet spend alone time with him? 

In the quiet? 
I don't know if I can. 
I am raw.
 I am vulnerable.

Typically I recharge by being with people. 
But I don't have that energy any more. 

I open my mind to the possibilities. 

Richard Blackaby says,
 "Unless you make an adjustment. .. you're not going anywhere." 

And I cry out to God. 

Hasn't an adjustment already been made? 
An adjustment I didn't ask for or ever desire? 

Richard Blackaby continues his talk. 
He talks about his Father, Henry. 
One of the most influential men of our time. 
A man devoted to the word of God. 
A man so knowledgeable. 
He shares how his dad still longs to grow. 
To know more of God. 
To dig deeper. 
He challenges us to continue to be hungry for God. 
To find out what is holding us back? 
We are the ones who are limiting what God can do in our lives. 
What am I doing in my life that would require a miracle? 

I don't know where God will take me this week. 
Commune with me. 
I know that spending time, alone, with Him, is a starting place. 

I am embracing this gift of this week. 
I am willing to face everything, boldly. 
I am sure I may not like all that will transpire. 
But I am going to continue to be real. 
I don't like this path I am on. 
I did not ask for it. 
I do not like it. . . one bit. 
But, I do love the Lord. 
And the morning that Elijah met Jesus. 
I sat in my living room. 
Alone. 
My farmer and Cedric had gone to the barn. 
The girls were still sleeping. 
Their world still in tact.
The power was still out. 
There was darkness. 
And I was alone. 
I could barely breathe. 
 I did the one thing my soul is able to do. 
And that is to Praise. 
It is our first language. 
Praising the God of the Universe. 
It is what we will do when we see Him face to face. 

Jeremiah 29:13
You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.

So in this time;
Alone.
I will dig deep into the Word. 
I will allow God to move. 

Are you willing to get real with God? 


Lauren Daigle
Trust in You

When you don't move the mountains I need you to move
When you don't part the waters I wish I could've walked through
When you don't give the answers as I cry out to you
I will trust, I will trust, 
I will trust in You!

Celebrating The Farm Boy!

My farm boy is 16 today. 
2 birthdays celebrated without his best friend and brother. 
 A new way of living for him. 
Pushing, pulling, stretching boundaries. 
Reaching to find. . . who he is. 
Life dealing him lemons. 
His soul learning to make lemonade. 
His view of life; so different from mine. 
Lessons learned at every turn. 
His path bumpy at times. 
Yet so willing to adapt to the conditions. 
This is my boy. 
Honored at school with an award and a gift. 
Given for "his love of life."
His quest to press on. 

He may walk through this life in an unconventional manner. 

A manner I am learning to appreciate. 

Happy 16th birthday my boy. 
You bring me great joy. 

You teach me each day, 
"It's all how you look at it."

Re-posting last years thoughts. 

--------------------------------------------------------------


I wake with a start. 

The pressure strange. 

I struggle to my feet. 

The waters of life stir. 

It's time. 

I call the hospital. 

I call my mother in law. 

My farmer wakes as the alarm rings. 

His normal waking hour. 

I let him know it's time. 

This child already in tune with the milking schedule.

With 3 sleeping children in the house, we head toward life. 

It is quick. 

We barely make it to the hospital before the final pushes. 

Fast and furious. 

He arrives. 

A surprise.

We always wait. 

Cedric Trevor Davis.

Named for the Grandfather taken too soon; who worked and toiled the land.

Our precious son.

We are blessed.

The recovery easy.

Life continues.

Marches on.

Year after year. 

He is 15 today.

He will take his permit test tomorrow. 

It's time. 

He has grown 4 inches since we buried his brother. 

He stands head and shoulders above me.

He wrestles with all that life has thrown him. 

Part wreckless, part staunch responsibility. 

This boy who arrived so quickly and hasn't stopped since, is my joy.
He who does all, in his own timing.

There is something about mama's and their boys. 

One for me is no more. I hold onto this one.

I pray I don't hold too tight. 

I pray that God will spare him and his siblings. 

I plead for more time. 

I beg Him to allow the angel of death to never pass this way too early again. 

But was it too early?

All is in the palm of God's hand. 

All in it's time. 

I will spend a life time in knots if I hang on the edge.
Waiting on His timing takes all.

Reaching again for grace, I hold on to the now. 
Resting in the plan by One wiser than I. 
Knowing that all is in it's time.

The birth. 

The joy. The glory.
The memories. 

We celebrate. 

We rejoice.

Happy 15th Birthday Cedric.

Ecclesiastes 3:1
There is a time for everything, 
and a season for every activity under the heavens:

Laughing In The Graveyard

The boy leaves me undone. 

Most days are difficult. 

Each word is poison and I can't begin to help him. 

He's lost a brother. Dealt with his beloved father being so sick and he's 14. 

I would come unglued. 

He's still fragile in the faith. 

And he's lashing out. 

But sometimes there are glimpses of what is to come. 

The veil pulled back and the blue eyes shine. 

There is humor and there is a sensitivity, so like his fathers. 

But this growing and stretching is hard on me. 

So when there is a calm. I embrace it. 

When he leaves me undone. I count 1,000 gifts. 

I leave Lilies at Elijah's grave.

No headstone marks his space. . . yet. 

The Lilies a marker. Something to do. 

Some way to serve.

I place them. 

That blonde haired, blue eyed boy hollers. He shouts it out loud;

Mom! What are you doing? Elijah hated those things. 

They stink. 

And right in the middle of the graveyard. 

In the deep crevice of missing and longing; I laugh. 

I cry. 

And I am sure I made other noises that are not becoming. 

But the grace that fills the heart when the laughter comes is warm. 

That boy has left me undone. 

Oh to be a people that can laugh and find joy even when the hurt is crushing. 

Psalm 30:5

weeping may stay for the night, but rejoicing comes in the morning.

I left the stinky Lilies at the grave. 

One for my mom, one for my son.

I brought the other home. 

One for my in-laws. 

I will plant that stinky Lily somewhere here. 

I haven't been able to grow anything; but this, I will try. 

Maybe I will see it grow. 

If we can't bend and yield to the Savior's leading, we will be left behind. 

We miss the grace he longs to pour out on his people. 

Even in a graveyard there is hope. 

I am reminded of the "Dance In The Graveyard" song Ana sang at her concert in the fall. 

The drumming brings me to my knees missing my redheaded drummer. 

He would have loved this song. 

For me, it showed the joy of the sweet reunion we all long for. 

Someday we will be reunited with our loved ones. 

If you have surrendered and bowed low to the giver of life, this gift is yours. 

We will laugh, and we will dance. 

Psalm 30:11

You turned my wailing into dancing; 

you removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy,