A Promise

 I have a love/hate relationship with the One Little Word of the Year movement. When I first heard about it, I resisted because everyone else was doing it and somehow I am both a pleaser and a contrarian rolled into one. And maybe due to my complicated feelings on it, the first time I associated a word for a year was in 2017 and it happened on December 31, 2017. On the last day of the year, I knew what my word for that year had been: Hold. You can read about that here. In 2018, I knew in the days and weeks leading up to January 1 that my word for that year was One and I knew how it was meant to play out. Here is where I detailed my feelings on it and here is where I reflected at the end of 2018. In 2019, I knew going in what my word would be {Known} and what I expected from it. It actually felt like the exact opposite of that word for a while (reflection here), but I ended up deciding that it was precisely what was intended for me that year.

This year, I started to feel my word crystallize in my spirit several weeks to a month before the end of  2019. And I'll be honest, the word confused me so much. I knew it had to be from the Lord because not only is it not a word I would pick, it absolutely did not fit my life in any way or form. It would have been more appropriate at other times, like maybe the end of 2016, but not now.

My 2020 word is Redeem. When God impressed it on me, I let Him know that it didn't really fit. He didn't really answer. I knew that I didn't have any situations, relationships, expectations, etc, that needed redemption. I wasn't struggling with any addictions or loss of hope that needed to be redeemed. There have been times in my life that it would have been a PERFECT fit and I would have been watching redemptions happen, but 2020? Nah. 

As the first few months of 2020 came, I tried to sort of mold the word, looking for situations where it was applicable and trying to push it into them. It still didn't work. As 2020 rocked on and became... well, what 2020 has become for the entire world... I still didn't get it and I kind of forgot about it, caught up as I was in living a brand new normal and living through a pandemic that shut down my entire life as I knew it. The spring months found me just trying to find my way through life and work from home and trying to be there for my kids as they sorted it out. One kid moved out at the end of April, further contributing to the brand new normal that we all had to find in our day to day. Then summer came, and the pandemic continued, and trips and events were canceled, and school became questionable again for fall, and my word just became an occasional thought. 

I can't and don't want to go into detail in a public forum, but on top of the challenges that everyone in the world was living in 2020 and Covid and all that came with that, there have been some specific challenges in the Davis household in 2020 that have rocked us some and caused not a little bit of angst and fear and anger and grief. In addition to all of that, Kraig and I had what I would say was the biggest fight we have had since we had kids, a blowup that started from a stupid little battle that became a weeklong disturbance and caused a lot of introspection for me. I definitely think that the pressures of being quarantined contributed greatly to that situation, and all is well now, but it was definitely a shock to the system when things have always been so easy and gone so well for us in the past 19 years (we have been married 20, but the first year was not what I would call "easy" or "well", haha!). 

Anyway, today I had a true revelation that I believe was straight from on high. In truth, I wasn't even thinking about my word at all. I was sitting on my bed, folding laundry, and as plain and clear as a voice from the heavens, I heard, "I will redeem it all." I sit here right now, knowing that I am writing this because I want to preserve that moment and that feeling, and yet feeling so frustrated because I know that I cannot convey that moment to anyone else, or even to my future self. 

See, I have always viewed my word of the year as a fit for THAT year. So if my word is "Redeem", then there is some redeeming happening. Nothing about 2020 has felt redemptive. Nothing about the Davis family life in 2020 has felt redemptive. In fact, it has felt a tiny bit like the wheels are coming off and pieces are crumbling all around me. On January 1, 2020, my life and my world and my relationships looked one way. On August 30, 2020, many of them look vastly different. And not for the better. 2020 has not at all been a year of redemption, it's been a year of chaos and confusion and semi-disaster. And I have wondered, as certain situations have fallen to pieces around me, if "Redeem" was a cruel joke since it feels like the exact opposite of what is happening.

But today, on the 30th day of the 8th month of the year of "Redeem", God finally revealed to me that my word is not a reflection of my 2020. Instead, it's a promise of the future in regard to the reality of my 2020. I don't get to live "Redeem" this year. But because of a merciful Jesus who holds tightly to His children, I get to cling to a promise. I get to know that no matter what has been and what may come, He will redeem it all. And I think I can say that it matters more to me to have a word that guarantees a future than a word that reflects the present. A promise, not a reflection. The hope, not the reality. What a blessing He has given to my soul on this 30th day of the 8th month of 2020.

Some Saturday Thoughts...

Easter is my very favorite holiday. It's above Christmas and Valentine's Day and the Fourth of July and my birthday (my next favorites). I love everything about Easter... the time of year, the traditions, the matchy-family pics, and the depth of the reason for the day.

Easter this year is .... quite a lot different. No families will gather, meals will look and feel different, there is fear and dread in the air, a sense of uncertainty, and, at least for us in the south, there is now apparently a very high risk of severe weather and a tornadic outbreak that could rival that of 2011. Just in case the whole global pandemic thing wasn't creating enough fear and uncertainty, I guess... ;)

I wrote a few years ago here about Saturday. And I still absolutely view Saturday in the same way that I did back then, that empty, scary, void "middle" when you question your understanding of what was supposed to happen and how, and you just feel so desperate and heavy.

This year, our church used an app called "EasterNow" (which I highly recommend) and it walked us through the chronology of Holy Week. What I am about to admit is pretty embarrassing, especially for someone who is pretty connected to Jewish studies and has spent a decent amount of time in Israel, but... here it goes:

I had never, until this year, thought about Saturday being Shabbat, or the Sabbath.

It had simply not occurred to me that the day after Jesus was crucified was the day of rest.... the holiest day of the week. I had always just thought of it from my Christian perspective and imagined His resurrection on the Sabbath, on the sunny and beautiful Sunday morning.

In last night's reading, they mentioned the need to get the body off the cross before Shabbat started, and that's when I really started to realize what that meant.

See, Jesus's followers were Jews who had been converted to Christian teaching, but they most certainly still observed many Jewish customs at that time, and Sabbath would absolutely be one of them. I don't know how much you know about Shabbat to Jews, but, um... it looks a lot different than it does to Christians. Our Sunday is often one of the busiest days of our week. Shabbat is... the exact opposite of that.

I remember my first Shabbat in Israel, they warned us to get any food we would need before sundown because nothing would be open. I remember the frantic rush in the market, the energy in the streets before sundown. I also remember thinking that probably they just meant NOT MUCH would be open. I also remember being ridiculously hungry the next day and dining on my Little Debbies and Pringles I brought from the good ol' US of A because not even the little convenience store across the from the hotel was open. NOTHING. I realized I could probably get dinner that night, since sundown ended it, so I asked someone what time the cafe down the street opened. The answer? "When three stars are visible." Um. ok. I waited till the shadows were long and walked down... no dice. Went back to the hotel, then went back when it was was somewhat dusky... nope. Still closed. Third time was the charm, they were open and I got to enjoy the pizza that I ate for dinner NO LESS THAN EVERY NIGHT OF MY MONTH IN ISRAEL EXCEPT ABOUT THREE. ;)

Anyway, all that to say, Shabbat means STOP. FULL STOP. Shabbat elevators in Israel stop on every floor so that no one needs to do the work of pushing a button. No one does anything that could be considered work. Neighborhood synagogues exist so that people can walk to them and not drive. It's a full commitment.

So what does this have to do with my Saturday thoughts? Well, that means that on that dreadful day after Jesus breathed His last, the day before the day, the one where He walked again.... There were no distractions. There was no work. There was no opportunity to step away or look away from their present circumstances. Jesus's followers had no option but to sit in their grief. To dwell in it. To feel it. It surrounded them like the graveclothes surrounded Him, wrapping them in its heavy sense of loss. Grief makes an unwelcome companion, but it was the only companion they likely had on that day as many of them were in hiding, alone and scared. I read in Lysa Terkeurst's book It's Not Supposed to Be This Way tonight and she said, "Where the enemy can isolate, he can influence." Saturday was a day of isolation for the followers of Christ. It was a day they were susceptible to influence by the enemy.

Saturday. A day that I have seen frequently this year being called "Silent Saturday". A day in which the traditions and circumstances required the followers of Jesus to fully feel and sit in their sorrow. I think I have discovered a whole new set of lessons this year from Saturday, and those lessons confront my own desires to distract from the pain and to quickly dig and search for meaning, for the upshot, for the silver lining. Those things are all there, and Sunday will come. But in the Saturday season, the grief is meant to be felt.

For us in the 2020 world right now, it feels a lot like a Saturday season. We want Sunday to come immediately, we keep looking for it, and it will. But the losses, the griefs, the sorrow, the fear, the longing, the uncertainty, the dread of this time.... we can (and should) feel it too. It has a purpose, and sometimes that purpose is simply to exist.

I Love You.

“People say I love you all the time—when they say, ‘take an umbrella, it’s raining,’ or ‘hurry back,’ or even ‘watch out, you’ll break your neck.’ There are hundreds of ways of wording it—you just have to listen for it, my dear.”
John Patrick, The Curious Savage

One of my kids (I’m not going to say which one, and I’m going to use “they” as the pronoun to keep it vague) has only told me that they love me two times. If you told me 3 years ago that I would have a kid who had only told me that they loved me two times, I wouldn’t have said it was possible, nor would I have believed that I would be okay with it. However, here we are. This kid has been in my life for close to three years. This kid is as much my child as the two who lived under my literal heart for 9 months. And yet this kid does not… ever… tell me that they love me. And yet… I’m ok. We are ok. Better than ok, actually. We are happy and mom and child and we love each other. 

Honestly, I’m not sure if it’s trauma, if it’s adoption, if it’s obstinance, if it’s personality, or if it’s just the way this kid thinks things should be. I assumed at first that it was just going to take time. So from June to November, even as their other two siblings offered “I love you’s” like candy, I waited patiently for this one to feel comfortable. I even told myself that I was glad it was taking time, that it would mean more because I would know that they offered it out of true love instead of just because they felt like it was expected. In November, five months after coming home, I heard those words for the first time. And boy was I right that it was like an incredible gift, finally getting to hear them out of their mouth. But it didn’t “break the ice”, so to speak, and open the door for a wave of “I love you’s”. It was just that once, and another time a month or so later, and that was it. In over two years, I haven’t heard this kid tell me that they love me.

The other day, I had helped them with some things related to writing. The next day, this kid of mine said, “I think I am going to marry a teacher. They have really good retirement (HUH???) and they can help our kids so much with things.”

And you know what? That sounded an awful lot to me like, “I love you, Mom.”

In Pursuit of Hearts

Friday before last, I sent a text to one of my kids, asking if he wanted to go see “Dolittle” with me that Saturday. Even though I desperately want to see the movie and I love spending time with him, as I sent it, I winced a little inside. I knew my Saturday morning would be hectic and the last thing I would want to do on Saturday afternoon was get out in the cold (which turned out to also be snow) and go see a movie. What I would REALLY want to do would be snuggle up on the couch under a blanket and read, maybe even snag a nap in my bed. However, we have been slipping lately on making intentional one-on-one time with our kids and I’m determined to do better. And “doing better”, as it turns out, starts with one kid and one plan. So I made one. The kid’s response could actually have gone any way (he’s one of our wild cards), but he responded in the affirmative, so a plan was made.

In the aftermath of the text exchange, it got me thinking about parenting teens. The phrase that kept coming to mind was one that is more frequently used in dating relationships, so it seemed odd, but the more I thought about it, the more it fit. Parenting teens is an exercise in pursuing their hearts.

When my kids were babies, I didn’t have to make it a point to spend time with them. Every feeding, every diaper change, every irritable session necessitated time with me. In addition, have you seen babies??? They are simply adorable and who WOULDN’T want to snuggle those little things and rub those downy little heads?!?! Time together was as natural as breathing.

As they moved into the toddler phase, time together was as much about survival as anything else—theirs and mine. When you have toddlers, letting them out of your sight is just asking for crayon on the walls or an injury or broken household items. Plus, they are hilarious. I would rather spend time with a toddler than maybe any other age person on planet earth. 

Then came the kid years, also not a period of time I had to make it a point of spending time with them because they were ALWAYS THERE and they ALWAYS WANTED OR NEEDED SOMETHING. ;) And they were old enough to express it. So it was “Mom! Mom! Mom! MOMMY!!!” “Mom, watch this!” “Mommy, look at this!” “Mom, will you play this?” “Mommy, can you do this for me?” all of the time always and forever constantly amen. 

Finally, tween and teen years come. And things change, a lot. Kids become almost completely independent (except when they can’t operate a CAN OPENER—EMMA) and don’t have to ask for you anymore (other than when money is needed). They develop their own pursuits and have relationships and communications outside of the family. They often prefer to spend time alone (as alone as you can be with a phone or a television). I know that all kids are different and personality factors into this, but it’s also a pretty natural part of tween and teen life to somewhat isolate from the family or at least turn outside the family for more of their interactions. There are a couple of my kids who, if given the choice, would stay in their rooms on their phones or watching tv all day every day (although they are not given that choice because they can’t have phones in their rooms and they don’t have tvs in their rooms). If I get complacent and lazy, I can go an entire day at home when we are off school and never see a couple of my kids. 

It takes intention, it takes effort, and it takes energy. And the more kids you have, the more of all of that it takes. We have to pursue their hearts in this time when their hearts are being pursued by so much outside of our families. The world is screaming at them all the time through social media, peers, movies, and music. There are so many lures in this life, so many tracks into their minds and spirits and souls if we don’t help them guard against them. And honestly, the only way to help them guard against them is to spend our time pouring into them. We are the vehicles in the flesh that the Lord uses to pursue them, and if we don’t, you can be certain that the enemy is actively pursuing them as well. 

Thinking about all of this feels exhausting to me, which brings me to the next thing I realized on that Friday when I was thinking forward about my Saturday afternoon at the movies… I am at a time in my life where I am the most weary, the most introverted, and the most in need of downtime in my house. And I don’t think I’m an anomaly, I think most people in their 40’s with kids would agree to feeling the same way. So why, at the age when we want more than before to withdraw, are most of us in the parenting phase that requires us to actively pursue more than ever? I decided on Friday that, while all of parenting is an act of unselfishness, this is kind of our final exam phase on unselfishness. It’s the end of the years with kids in our home, our final opportunity to glean the lessons that God wants to teach us during a time when these lessons are so readily available and easily accessible.

I think it also serves as a brilliant reminder of the ways the Lord pursues our hearts, and how hard we make Him work for it at times, when all He has ever wanted to do is love us with the “unforced rhythms of grace” (The Message, Matthew 11:28-30):

^28-30 “Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.”

2019: Known Or.... NOT.

My New Year's reflection this year is, as many of them tend to be, a reflection on contradictions. Maybe that's just what adult life is... contradictions.

My word for 2019 was "Known". I started the year with hopes of knowing Jesus more and feeling more known by Him, of knowing my family and my people and being known by them, of knowing ME better and feeling known, of knowing my calling and must students better and being known by them, and of knowing my social circles better and being known by them.

There were points this year in which I decided that, not only was my One Little Word an ABYSMAL failure, but I had actually never had a year I which I knew less or was known any less. Then I started to break down the different areas of knowing and being known and I realized that it wasn't a failure, it just wasn't a complete success.

I read something last night by Rebekah Lyons about being careful who you allow to have the microphone in your life. That is such a powerful thought; but for me, I'm the one who sometimes should have the microphone. I have such an overwhelming tendency to magnify my losses and my failures and minimize my gains and my successes. And that's not the way of my Father.

2019 was a year of transitions for our family. I said on instagram today that, for Kraig and I, it was absolutely the most parenting transition year other than 2003, 2005, and 2017, all of which were years we added actual new humans to our lives. One child graduated high school and started college and work, another child moved into the upperclassman years, and two transitioned from middle school to high school. Three kids gained some independence, as we got three driver's licenses in 2019. We saw our roles as parents start to shift as our kids moved into new phases of life and it was... weird.

This year we watched God do a most amazing thing for us. Just before the end of 2018, we felt like he was calling for six of us (instead of the original 3 we had planned) to go to Cambodia this past summer. But to do that, we had to raise $10,800. Although we have seen God raise miraculous amounts of money before, there were moments in this process that we weren't sure it was going to happen. However, in most amazing of ways, He did it. I still need to write a whole post about that, and I eventually will. For every moment of that trip, it was confirmed over and over again that He wanted us all six in Cambodia at that time. I will forever cherish the memories of that amazing ten days with those beautiful people and the ways it has shaped my life and the life of my family forever.

In 2018, I had the first cancer scare of my life. I got word in November that all was well, and I settled in to enjoy peace until that dreaded "six month follow-up". That appointment took place in May 2019, and it was at that point that I entered the second cancer scare of my life. That one ended with a surgery and, thankfully, the words "all clear" when the results came in. I had not told the kids or anyone but Kraig and my mom anything about it in 2018 until we had the results of "benign", but in 2019 they knew that I would have a follow-up, so it was a stressful time for all of us.

It's no secret that I love watching my kids do things that they love and excel at, and watching a kid compete at the collegiate level in a sport was incredible. Francisco had such a fabulous cross country season with Cleveland State and it was awesome to watch. The others had great swim seasons (Kelsey), tennis seasons (Roman and Emma), cross country seasons (Kelsey, Roman, and Angela), and JROTC Raiders Competition season (Angela). Emma also did Model UN again and all of the kids found clubs they enjoyed. Francisco had an awesome end to high school with scholarships and a class award. Everyone had a great end of the school year in May as far as grades and awards and so far, we have enjoyed a great current school year academically.

It's also been an exceptional year of spiritual growth for all seven of us. I have watched my kids lean into their callings and seen their gifts from Him start to crystallize and shine. Seeing them in Cambodia as they ministered to the kids there, watching them work in kids' church, seeing the connections Emma is making with kids she baby-sits, hearing Francisco practice his sermon for the college ministry has been a joy of 2019.

Professionally, I have had a really great 2019. The last school year ended strong in regard to my students, although there were some significant disappointments and what felt very much like betrayals in other aspects, but the Lord has taught me that sometimes the way to cope is to forget. And so that is what I have done. This school year has been a great blessing so far. I gave up a leadership position and that ended up being a very wise choice for me. My students this past semester was really wonderful, even with an odd group and a challenging group.

Our business had a great year and functioned exactly as it was meant when we created it. We used For Such a Time Creations to raise funds for our mission trip to Cambodia and it did so very successfully.

I guess, coming out of 2019, it's been a year of major growth. I said at the beginning of this post that I had failed terribly at my word, "Known", and yet I think I probably learned more about myself in 2019 than anything else. I continue on a journey of self-learning, self-knowing, as I learn more about and know HIM who created me.

Philadelphia

For Francisco’s “13th bday trip” (at almost 20), Kraig took him to Philadelphia. I’ll detail their itinerary below, but here are a few of the details below for planning purposes.

We used Airbnb for their stay and it was a great location for what they were doing, not fancy but fine. That link is here.

We booked City Passes, which were good for both days and included the Aquarium, Franklin Institute, Zoo, Bus Tour, One Liberty Deck, Eastern state Penitentiary, Museum of American Revolution, and National Constitution Center.

We also booked a Philadelphia by Foot Tour, a company we try to use everywhere we go. He did the Independence Mall Tour, which included outside the Liberty Bell, outside Independence Hall, outside Congress Hall, 1st and 2nd Banks, City tavern, Christ Church, Elfreth Alley, Franklin Burialgrounds, Old City Hall, and the Betsy Ross House.

They flew in on Saturday at 10. They took a taxi from the airport to the city center. They went straight to the Independence Hall Visitor’s Center for their bus tickets, then took the bus around. They stopped at Reading Terminal for cheesesteaks, went to the Eastern State Pen, and stopped at the Art Museum to see the Rocky Statue and run the steps. They got off at a bus stop near their Airbnb.

Their Sat night plan was the 49’ers vs Warriors game. They caught a taxi over, planning to eat around the stadium, but there weren’t many restaurants and everything was jam-packed. Instead, they ate IN the game. The ride back to their lodging was easy.

On Sunday AM, they were at Independence Hall at 8:55 AM to get their tickets (pre-booked). Their tour was at 9:40 and they took a 30 min tour and saw the Liberty Bell. Their Philly by Foot Tour was at 10:30, starting from the Betsy Ross House (just across from where they were). That tour ended at Christ Church. Their Segway tour (pre-booked and a great Groupon deal!) started at 12:30. That tour was really fun, although cold!

After another Philly cheesesteak, they headed back to the airport and came home!

A Red and Green Decision

It's December 20.

I have read so many people lately who are posting about keeping things simple during the holiday season, about letting go of the rush and the traditions and just cherishing time.

And I think that's very valid, so valid that in the midst of the most rushed Christmas season I can remember (which I likely say every year because I can't ever remember how bad it truly was the last time-- it's like childbirth), I decided to follow that advice.

There are several things that I let go of this year in favor of a simpler season and more time to just survive.

What I have realized on this December 20 that feels, not like 5 days before Christmas but like just any day in the early winter, is that I need the traditions. I need the markers, the little bit of liturgy, the rhythms that have always marked the seasons for me and that cause my brain and my body to pause and remember that it's not just early winter, it's CHRISTMAS.

If what works for you is slowing down and cutting some things out... do it.

But if what you need in order to feel the excitement of the season rather than just numb is to plan the events and nod to the traditions and give yourself the anticipation... do it.

One thing I try to emphasize to my kids at home and my kids at school is that a hugely important part of adult life is learning what works for you. And then doing it.

So next year, count us back in for the Polar Express Lights Night (which we may still work in), decorating our porches, turning on the tree lights every day when we get home, hosting a Christmas party, participating in RACK, and taking on a benevolence project.

And because I think it was the late Thanksgiving that messed me up so badly, I have set reminders on my phone for next year to tell me when I need to start this or that preparation so as not to be caught off-guard and then end up scrapping things next year.

I have learned that I'm a Christmas Tradition girl, and next year is going to feel a lot more red and green than this year has so far!