Funding A Memorial

We've begun to advertise. 

An event. 

It's hard to think of it as a celebration. 

A Memorial Fund. 

 A hope. 

A dream.

 A desire. 

A legacy. 

A way to help; give back. 

Money that will be collected and placed in a fund to grow.
We have already begun to give.

A College Scholarship. 

Donations to the Band and Lacrosse Team.
In the future maybe 2 or 3 Scholarships.

Maybe Leadership Scholarships for aspiring Military students. 

A way to keep his memory alive. 

To be the hands and feet of Christ. 

Giving. 

As I look at the poster, I long for it all to go away. 

I don't want to be in the middle of raising support for a Memorial Fund. 

It feels like a dream; cloudy and foggy. 

I breathe deep. 

He's not here. 

And I need to do something. 

My desire is to support kids. 

Elijah worked hard for the things he had. 

He bought his own Lacrosse equipment. 

He paid for his own air soft gear. 

Often getting up at 3 am before school to work. 

He paid for his own car. 

Bartering the final payments for work on a neighbors fence line that needed to be cleared.

 Deutoronomy 15:10
Give generously to them and do so without a grudging heart;
 then because of this the LORD your God will bless you in all your work
 and in everything you put your hand to.

He understood the value in work.

The cost of living. 

He rarely complained. 

Now, in his honor we will come together. 

We will forge a dream. 

We will seek ways to bless students. 

Encourage families. 

Helping one family at a time. 

I hope you will be able to join us, Thursday, August 7, 2014 at the Farm, 

for fun, music (local bands), food (Davis Farm raised pork provided, bring a dish to share) and fellowship. 

Click here for more details. 

Fanning The Flame

I couldn't keep the flame going. 

I wanted to light a candle.

I found a match. 

I lit it from the gas stove. 

The flame would not stay lit. 

I had to cradle it. 

Protect the flame until the candle was lit. 

We are the light of the world. 

A city on a hill.

Matthew 5:14
You are the light of the world--
like a city on a hilltop that cannot be hidden

We need to protect our flame. 

It is so easily extinguished.
Keep the flame burning. 

The winds of the times blow and the flame flickers until it is gone. 

The flame is a fragile thing unless it is fanned and fueled.
The care intentional.
Purposeful.
I can be a crab. 
It's true.
Ask any member of my family.
Some days I have a right.
The kids have not cleaned up their clothes or belongings.
They are disrespectful and selfish.
And I speak to them about this.
But other times. 
I am just crabby.
I say things I shouldn't.
I speak before I have thought through. . . all of what I was going to say. 
(My farmer shakes his head)
I lash out. 
Sometimes I even pout. At my age.
I should know better.
But sometimes it feels good.
I know better. 
I need to fan the flame. I need to make sure that it won't go out.
Our flames are fanned by the very things we do to keep our focus in the right place.

I withdrew this week. 
I stepped away from the chaos and craziness.
It wasn't easy.
I struggle with guilt.
I wrestle with all that needs to be done.

Luke 5:15
And he withdrew himself into the wilderness, and prayed.

I didn't withdraw alone. 

A former colleague and I plan a get away every year.
Usually during a vacation.
This year has been difficult.
Her mom took her final breath and walks in Glory now.
So we wait until now.
We talk.
We cry.
We remember.
I can feel the flame grow stronger. 
I worry about the house, my farmer, the kids.
I text often.
My farmer sends me a cute text with a quote from the movie, Mom's Night Out.
I laugh, but I know he wants me to be happy.
I feel the flame stronger. 
My friend and I laugh.
We talk of faith.
We remember the years gone by.

And still the flame grows stronger. 
When we reach out and fan that flame, we keep it strong.
In the quiet I read the Ancient Word.
I drink a hot cup of coffee.
I continue to fan the flame.
I breathe deep.
I praise God for each of these blessings.
For the gift of the flame and grace He gives to keep it going.

What are you doing today to fan that flame? 

It Is Work To Find Rest

I wake indifferent. 

There is danger in apathy. 

I wage a war continually. 

If I don't feel then I can't hurt. 

If I close my eyes tightly against all the pain and struggle I will survive. 

That is hardly living. 

There is relief. 

There is an anecdote. 

There is a place where peace reigns. 

Where our feet are firmly planted.

To remain in that place is work.
There is work in grieving.
There is work in surrendering a life to the One who longs to hold you.
This work can leave you exhausted and spent.
But we will work.
We will work to grieve; to yield continually to the spirit.
We will work to dig out the farmer from depression.
We will work to keep this farm.
We will work until the Kingdom comes.
And through it all we will demonstrate a life placed at the feet of Jesus.
Because this life is too hard.
I want Him to have it all.
We will fill our heartache and pain with grace.
And from that grace will flow an abundance of peace.
The peace leads to rest; to the quiet and still.
My practice in Lent.
Still enough to see.
Still enough to listen.