Author: Heather Davis

Mostly About Homeschooling

~ Heather Davis ~ 28 Comments

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 of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.
2 Corinthians 12:9

One of my favorite comments from moms who do not homeschool is, “Oh, I could never homeschool my kids. I just don’t have the patience.”

Invariably, I answer, “Me either!”

The bare fact is that God never called me to homeschool because I was especially patient. Nor was I especially qualified. In fact, I never had a desire to teach before having children of my own, and thanks to some truly horrendous choices, never even finished college. At the time, I was not even a mature Christian!

In my wildest speculations, the only reason I can conceive of that my God would call me to homeschool my little brood is that my very weakness and ineptitude made a stunning backdrop for a display of His power. It certainly wasn’t my

Also, in my years of homeschooling, He has changed me. I am no longer as impatient as I once was. I’m less of a yeller. Truth be told, I am absolutely positive that I have learned far more than my kiddos through this experience.

Now that the number of pupils in my little academy has dwindled to one (at least for now), I have a little breathing room and can look back over the last decade and see some of the lessons I have learned. Here are a few of them:

  1. If God calls you to homeschool, you can do it. You don’t have to be a certified teacher, nor patient, nor gifted in the arts of education, nor anything, really. If you are called, you are called. The only question is whether or not to obey. Remember that you can do all things through Christ who strengthens you, so be on your knees frequently and ask for the wisdom and strength you need. Then trust Him to bring it to pass.
  2. If you are called, this does not mean it will be easy. Being both parent and teacher is never easy, no matter how much or how little training you have. I think sometimes we tend towards a crazy notion that when God calls us to do something, He is obligated to line everything up so that we can float through our days without so much as a breeze to ruffle our hair. The reality is that when He calls us to do something, our ruffles are more often buffets from gale-force winds, but this is only so we will learn to rely more on Him and less on our silly selves. Just because it is hard does not mean it isn’t worth it.
  3. Have fun when the kids are small. Now naturally, school cannot be all fun and games and I am definitely not an advocate of unschooling, but there’s no good in stressing over-much when they are little. The early elementary years are the times to get hands on and develop a desire to learn about this wonderful world God made. It can be a time to really enjoy these sweet little people God has planted in your life. While co-ops and tutorials can be very good things, I tend to think they are best from middle school on.  My one major regret is that I farmed out the fun stuff and compromised my vision for our school during the kids’ elementary years with a tutorial. While this was great fun for them and was still a good experience, they also did all the fun experiments and projects with their friends while I was left with the drier and duller subjects such as math and grammar. Needless to say, I was not the favorite teacher in those years. 😉
  4. Hold the older kids accountable. Scheduling is not always a popular topic among homeschoolers. Many let their kids sleep in and enjoy other freedoms that homeschooling offers, sometimes to a fault if we are honest. As our kids approach adolescence, it is crucial that we do not skip such critical life lessons as punctuality and meeting deadlines. If the goal is to train responsible, functional, Godly adults. That means they need to learn  responsibility, how to function under authority, and sacrifice. At this age, it’s time to focus on a work ethic and doing our work heartily as to the Lord.
  5. Hold yourself accountable.  Homeschooling may not pay a salary, but it is a real, full-time job. For me, sometimes this meant resisting the temptation to check email or fool around on faceboook during school hours, even if I was not needed at that moment. When the kids were older, it sometimes meant saying “no” to meeting friends or to babysitting because my kids needed the time to focus on their school work without distraction. Imagine if your child went to school and the teacher frequently cut corners and left early to play or even to do things for others but at the class’s expense. Once I thought of myself that way, it gave me a new perspective. Guess who gets to set the example of doing our work heartily as to the Lord? 😉

Of course, that’s just the nickel version. I have learned so much more, most of it not even related to homeschooling. However, that is quite enough words for tonight, I’d say!

What’s New With Me

~ Heather Davis ~ 7 Comments

I can do all things through him who strengthens me.
Philippians 4:13

I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing.
John 15:5

I know I’ve been something of a random poster these days; sometimes once a week, sometimes less. There are various reasons why, but today I thought I’d share the most complicated one of them with you.

You see, quite a bit has changed in my life lately. After 15 years of full-time motherhood and 10 of homeschooling, my oldest two (tenth grade and eighth grade) are attending a private school. While I still homeschool the youngest, this has been a rather dramatic alteration in our lifestyle and schedule.

Now instead of letting the kids sleep until 7:00, the older two get up at 6:00. The youngest gets up at 5:00 — don’t ask me why. She’s just like that. We do our Bible studies in the predawn hour but in separate rooms. It’s kind of cool, actually.

Instead of a quick trot to the school room, I am now hauling two of them on a thirty-minute drive south. That’s thirty minutes one-way, which means an hour is spent in the morning commute.

The youngest either comes along or stays home and works on her own schooling, depending on my husband’s schedule. Also, depending on his schedule, that hour commute is sometimes doubled.  Either way, there I am standing with one foot in two worlds.

And then, of course, there are activities and extracurricular events. There is church and community group. There is striving to find the time to stay in shape — or rather, in some semblance of shape — despite an odd assortment of injuries I have managed to accumulate, apparently just to keep things interesting.

I am also endeavoring to learn Hebrew; a task at which I am progressing at a snail’s pace. A dead snail’s pace. But it’s great fun, probably because I am the quintessential nerd.

Also at this stage of my life, there are the teenage years and puberty happening all around, along with the great emotional needs that accompanies this life stage, much more intense and exhausting than the toddler years as far as I can see. Or maybe I’m just exhausted because of age… or because of chronic migraine and its various treatments… or just because.

And so on, and so forth.

But to me, personally, the biggest, most exciting, and yet most frustrating new thing is that I have finished the first draft of a novel.

No, really. It’s true. It doesn’t seem possible to me, but it is true.

As a matter of fact, I am writing these words now with something of a guilty conscience, mainly because I am taking a break from rewriting a stubborn paragraph that simply will not come together.

All the while I am hiding from my intractable characters that have chosen this night not to behave and docilely speak sensible sentences as they ought, my Hebrew vocabulary cards are staring at me balefully, reminding me that I have not even glanced at them today and here it is eight o’clock at night.

But that’s another matter. The crazy, exhilarating, and intimidating truth is that I have actually typed out an entire novel and am working through the revision.

So what’s next?

Who knows? I consider it highly unlikely the thing will be published, but then that is in God’s hands, as is everything else.

Either way, I look to Him for wisdom in all of it — the rewriting, putting out feelers for publication, raising my teens and tweens, homeschooling, private schooling, being a wife, facilitating a small group, prayer meetings at church– all of it. It is either all for His glory, or it is worthless.

Either way, I am praying almost all the time these days because, frankly, I need God every second of every minute of every day no matter what I am working on.

So that’s basically all that’s new with me! Drop a line sometime and let me know what’s new with you. 🙂

Throwback Thursday: Godly Grief, 2013

~ Heather Davis ~ Leave a comment

Just for kicks, I thought I’d repost something from about three years ago. Today, I am thankful for painful moments of discipline like this that later on truly do bring a harvest of peace for those who have been trained by it.

As it is, I rejoice, not because you were grieved, but because you were grieved into repenting. For you felt a godly grief, so that you suffered no loss through us. For godly grief produces a repentance that leads to salvation without regret, whereas worldly grief produces death.
2 Corinthians  7:9-10

Oh, how much time I have wasted in my past with worldly grief! At one point in my life before Christ, I was consumed by it. I felt an enormous weight of guilt and shame for things I had done, but rather than driving me away from the deeds that perpetuated such feelings, I felt too powerless and too stained to escape from them. I had grief, but it was a hideously twisted thing that merely poisoned my days and stunted my reason.

There is another aspect of the worldly grief that I have seen (and probably exhibited at times)–the false grief that says, “I’m sorry,” and yet does not cease the action that prompted the somewhat automatic, empty response. This is not true grief, not brokenness, but just an expected reaction meant to soothe the one wronged without any genuine concern or desire for reconciliation. This worldly grief is a smokescreen; a facade to hide something mean and ignoble behind.

Then there is the Godly grief–the grief I experienced when I first truly began to understand the weight of what Jesus did. This is the grief that was heavier even than my crushing burden of shame and guilt–weightier because I finally understood that my worldly shame was self-directed (shame because I had shamed myself) whereas my new, Godly grief was due to the fact that I would treat so heinously the One who forgave the unforgivable in me.

The full realization of this is tremendous, for it is paradoxically as simple as “Jesus died in my stead,” and yet infinitely more grave and far-reaching. It embodies an understanding of His holiness; the power and glory He willingly laid aside; the fact that it was not our recalcitrance that prompted His great act of rescue, but rather our stubborn, self-willed refusal to obey–the fact that we were hopelessly doomed to die without intervention, so steeped were we in sin.

How many of us will not only forgive someone who has hurt us willingly, but will go out of our way to recompense the damages made to ourselves on their behalf–paying for their crime and exonerating them of all guilt even as they continue to cause us injury? It is incredibly humbling for me to realize that is precisely what Jesus did for me. But not just for me; it is what He calls me to do for others.

Through meditation and reflection on His goodness, holiness, and reality, He has produced within me a Godly grief–a genuine sorrow that I once chose to sin against One who epitomizes grace, forgiveness, and selfless sacrifice  — as well as constantly exposing deeper and more subtle areas where I am not completely surrendered to Him.

     Today, I find myself sorrowful over the many times I have stopped serving someone because I felt that I was taken advantage of by them. Even if I have been taken advantage of and my sense of being used is legitimate, so what? Have I not taken abundant advantage of the totally undeserved grace and mercy that God extended to me through Christ? Why, then, do I think myself so important that I should not be taken advantage of?

     This revelation does produce a sorrow in me–not a dragging burden of guilt nor a lip-service expression of apology but a keen and true grief; grief not that I have slighted another but that I have been as guilty as the indebted servant in Matthew 18:22-35. I have gratefully accepted the mercy of my Master, yet I have been stingy in extending such mercy to others. I am grieved that I would treat the gifts of such an honorable and compassionate King in such a detestable way. The grief is truly Godly grief, for it is grief that I would dare to esteem so lightly the inconceivable affections of the Ever-Existent One.

This is merely one area in which God is working on me–one of many, I assure you, for Godly grief has began to permeate my life. I have experienced those things which Paul wrote about: the indignation, zeal, eagerness to clear myself, and I have felt the sting of punishment from which I have, in actuality, been spared–the sting that comes of knowing that One undeserving  has borne the lash in my stead.

It is a spur that will not allow me to rest in sin once I am aware of it; a goad to prompt me to continue to press forward, for allowing Him to change me is the least I can do in return for His astonishing sacrifice. I can never earn it, but I can feel forever the depth of my debt and a passionate depth of gratitude that prompts me to an ever-increasing desire to do His will. I can never repay, but I can certainly live my life in such a way to honor His gift.

This repentance-producing grief  is a grief, piercing and poignant, yet it is not the type of sorrow that weighs down and destroys. It is the pain of necessary surgery that ushers in a more complete healing, the ache of strenuous exercise which leads to greater fitness, the pangs of labor which leads to the exhilaration of birth. It is not a sorrow leading to death, but to an overflow of life and gladness. It is the bitter night before the the joyous dawn.

If you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love, just as I have kept my Father’s commandments and abide in his love. These things I have spoken to you, that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be full. John 15:10-11

Sacrifice

~ Heather Davis ~ Leave a comment

Abraham said, “God will provide for himself the lamb for a burnt offering, my son…” Genesis 22:8a

Sacrifice.

If there’s a word that entirely fails to evoke sentiments of serenity or images of lazy spring picnics beside a murmuring stream, “sacrifice” may well be it.  It’s a rare Christian, indeed, who falls asleep at night dreaming of what else he may sacrifice or who wakes in eager expectation of the day’s abnegation.

We are such funny creatures…

Fifteen years ago, my husband and I chose to waive the relative ease of a dual income in order that one of us might invest more heavily in our children. As the kids grew, we opted to forego the “free” public school in favor of home education; another sacrifice of time, money, and effort. Now, in this newest season of our lives, the oldest two attend a private school, which brings with it a new kind of fiscal load.  Financially, at least, we have felt called to sacrifice.

And here is why I say we are funny creatures. I need you to understand that I have not delineated areas of my own personal sacrifice in order to seek accolades, but rather in order to highlight my own laughable silliness.

You see, none of the things I have “sacrificed” were truthfully and wholly my own.  Each penny my husband or I have earned was earned through talent or ability first supplied us by God. Even my body — the heart that beats, the lungs that draw breath; even the air I breathe — all are only mine in the sense that all gifts belong to the beloved.

Yet do not miss the fact that they are gifts; I neither created nor produced a single element of any of them. God, Himself, has always provided the sacrifice beginning with the very first one written of in Genesis 3:21 and continuing to this day in the lives of believers.

Thus my earlier comment that we are funny creatures. It strikes me as humorous that we would take every gift our Creator equips us with and cling to it as solemnly as if we had given it form and substance ourselves.

When I think about it, it’s more than a little amusing that I might think myself righteous when God hands me $100 and I offer Him $10 back… and in too many areas, I do not even give Him that much recognition!

With that thought it mind, let’s view a reminder from the apostle Paul:

Or do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit within you, whom you have from God? You are not your own, for you were bought with a price. So glorify God in your body.
1 Corinthians 6:19-20

There is nothing we possess, not even our persons, which was not at first a Divine allowance.

However, there is One whose life truly was His own. Jesus called the Christ alone among men could claim complete possession of His life, for He did fashion the body He inhabited. He, Himself, as the agent of creation actually did call into being the air He breathed, the dust He walked in, even the tree He was slain upon.

His life was truly His own, and so His sacrifice could arguably be called the only authentic sacrifice ever offered in the entire history of  mankind.

This fact is one among many reasons why His death on that cross was enough to atone for my sin — because it was complete: the sacrifice truly was His to make.

Of His own accord, He laid down a life that was thoroughly and unreservedly His. He was no mere steward but the Master, and He chose to give it all away out of sheer love for His creation. 

That is why I worship Him, my friends, because when I think of the unimaginable humility of my Lord in paying my ransom, I know that He is absolutely worthy of my adoration. His very act of abasement places His gift of salvation so far above my own most noble and heroic efforts as to reveal mine for what they are–filthy rags.

When I stop to think of all He has provided, the proportionally minuscule amount He requires me to give back no longer looks much like a sacrifice. Instead, I feel more like a child hoping to make my Father smile with a gift, absurdly unconscious of the fact that my gift is one He bought and paid for Himself.

O my God, thank You for your mercy and grace and for Your true sacrifice on behalf of one so unworthy as me!

…And I myself have given it to you all so that atonement may be made for your souls on the altar, since the blood itself makes atonement through the life that is in it.
Leviticus 17:11b, ISV

The Battle Within

~ Heather Davis ~ Leave a comment

Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me? Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my salvation and my God.
Psalm 43:5

Oh, how I wish each step of this race could be joyful; filled with moments of awe and splendor and wonder. How I wish that I could run my race without the weight of the sin curse dragging at my heart and snatching the breath from my lungs. But this is real life, and David’s Psalm aptly expresses my real state of mind today.

One of my oldest enemies, the fiendish Despair, still dogs my heels from time to time as I labor on my course. Oh,though he is sly, I know him; I know his true name — it is Pride, dressed though he may be in a darker suit of self-focus. From time to time on deserted stretches of the track, my sinister stalker will fling the well-paired bolas of fatigue and pain, entangling my legs and causing me to sprawl ingloriously onto my face.

One would think I would learn to keep an eye out for him when the way is desolate… one would think.

Always, always it is the same setup: a few weeks of relentless pain, a sense of uselessness and failure, a realization that much of the past efforts I have given in ministry was  either  unheeded or unneeded. Too little sleep. Too much to do. A certainty of ineptitude made more concrete by the actions of others. The reality of being forgotten. The conviction that not only do I not belong, I have passed that quirk of not belonging on to my children. The very painful understanding that sometimes to be a sojourner on this earth means that I will sojourn alone.

Well, not entirely alone.

There is One who has promised never to leave me nor forsake me… not even when I allow my thoughts to fall into the familiar old iniquity of despondency.

There is my Shepherd who will be with me even in the valley of deepest darkness.

There is the Light for my path, even if it is just glimmer enough to see an inch or two of the way before me.

There is my great High Priest who can sympathize with my weakness, for He has been tempted in all ways that I have yet without my sin.  For in Gethsemane, I am certain that even He was tempted to give in to Despair… yet He fought on. And won.

So at times like this, I remember that my body is weak and prone to falter, but that my Savior is neither of these. Though I may feel cast down, discouraged, defeated, and useless; though I may not have the strength to fight, in Christ I can find the strength to stand. And I remember that the battle is not mine but the Lord’s.

When the horrible ache of being a person on the fringes threatens to swallow me in sorrow, I recall that I do belong — to the King of kings. That, too, I can pass to my children and together we can view this vast and often hostile territory with fresh eyes, cherishing its beauty and even loving those who unwittingly inflict pain because we remember that we are just passing through until the great Day of our final Homecoming.

So why are you cast down, O my soul? Rather, hope in God for I will again praise Him, for He is my King and His grace is sufficient for me.

 

 

 

 

Mom to Mom Encouragment

~ Heather Davis ~ 2 Comments

In him we have obtained an inheritance, having been predestined according to the purpose of him who works all things according to the counsel of his will,
Ephesians 1:11

Hello.

It’s been awhile; I know. To be honest, except for some few matters that weighed heavily on my heart, I have basically taken this summer off.  After 15 years of the intense parenting  and educating process that is so innocuously referred to as”homeschool,”  I took a few weeks and did some serious resting at the Lord’s feet… with an strong emphasis on rest.

As part of this,  I slept… and slept. As far back as memory stretches, I remember being tired, and so this summer I did not stick to my normal early-morning routine as in years past. I slept as long as I could as often as I could. That is not to say that I went to bed late – in fact, I was often in bed by 9:30 – but for the first time in memory, I did not set an alarm every day.

It was a luxury, and one that I was only able to afford in part because of a tremendous change that is happening at the Davis household. You see, I have less to prepare for this school year.

For the first time in our family history, I will only be homeschooling one of my children; the older two will attend a private Christian school. This is our family’s very first venture into an institutional-style education.

It’s pretty big change.

For years, we have prayed about how long we would homeschool, and this year the surprising answer was to provide the older two with an opportunity to attend a private school in a neighboring town.  I have always known that if my Lord wanted my children to attend private school then He would provide for it.

And He has. And here we are, just days away.

But some things never change. The same questions that have risen at the beginning of each school year still surfaced this time, some with even greater savagery.

Have I done enough with them?

Have I been too lenient, too strict, too careless, too rigid?

Have I gotten so caught up in teaching Bible that I have forgotten to share my love of the Bible? 

Have I impeded their growth spiritually, socially, academically, emotionally, intellectually?

What if I have made a tremendous, hopeless mess out of everything?

These questions and others like them are the particular haunt of homeschool moms, although I am certain they affect all concerned parents in some degree. However, the homeschool community is such that, if you spend even thirty-five seconds on some form of social media, you will be bombarded by other homeschoolers who have just plain done it better. 

They have successfully shepherded all of their children’s hearts to the effect that each one has an obvious love for the Lord that overflows in a passion for some area of ministry. These families have raised prodigies in violin or dance. Their children are mini-geniuses who are fluent in 4 languages, have mastered Algebra by fifth grade, can map their own DNA, have written a successful novel, have formulated a very promising cure for cancer,  whip up five-star restaurant quality meals from scratch for dinner each week, rescue babies from runaway cars as a hobby, made a 36 on the ACT exam in eighth grade, and have once or twice saved the world from imminent disaster with a combination of pure ingenuity under fire and infallible communication skills. They are done by noon. Every. Single. Day.

When I consider all this, it’s not difficult to see why I no longer look around at other people’s Facebook posts  nor why I have studiously ignored Pinterest.

However, all my sleeping and resting at the Lord’s feet did bring about a positive change. For the first time, even though the same old crazy, fear-induced questions did rise up on cue, they were quickly put to rest by one single encouraging thought: It really doesn’t matter.

You see, even if I have made mistakes, there is no such thing as a hopeless mess. Of course I have erred; I am human. However, I have also prayerfully, diligently, even tearfully tried my utmost to obey what I believe my King has told me to do. In years past, that meant fighting battles I did not want to fight. This year, it means letting go a little.

Naturally, I have asked myself, “What if you are wrong? What if you only think you’re doing what God wants you to do?”

And that’s where this gets good. Because, the thing is, my Father does know if I am truly and with my whole heart trying to obey. And He isn’t expecting perfection; perfection is squarely His territory.

But the best part of all of this is that even if I do misunderstand Him, even if I do make huge and heinous mistakes, as Ephesians 1:11 says, He “works all things according to the counsel of His will.”

Oh, there are other verses I have collected along the same lines, but my fellow Christ-loving moms, as we start this school year (whether homeschool, private school, or public school), I pray that you are as encouraged by the Word of Life as I was this week.

So instead of worrying, let’s rejoice! Our God is truly the Almighty, and He works all things according to the counsel of His will. Even our sincere mistakes.

“I know that you can do all things, and that no purpose of yours can be thwarted.
Job 42:2

Forever, O LORD, your word is firmly fixed in the heavens. Your faithfulness endures to all generations; you have established the earth, and it stands fast. By your appointment they stand this day, for all things are your servants.
Psalms 119:89-91

 

An Appeal to my Brethren of Any Color

~ Heather Davis ~ Leave a comment

And then many will fall away and betray one another and hate one another. And many false prophets will arise and lead many astray. And because lawlessness will be increased, the love of many will grow cold.
(Mat 24:10-12)

I am a white woman.

There is nothing I can do about this. I was born this way.

My sisters are white women. They did not choose their skin color, either, but were also born this way. All three of us have some things in common: our skin is  of that pinkish-tan hue that for some reason is called “white” and our hair and eyes are brown. We can make alterations with dyes, contacts, and other superficial and temporary aesthetic changes, but we can never be anything but white women.

Besides our coloring, we three share other characteristics. We all made similar mistakes before we came to know Jesus as King and Lord of our lives. Despite our love for Him, we all are imperfect and still struggle with sin. We all make mistakes, we are all learning to humble our hearts and repent when we do, and we encourage each other to this end.

Additionally, we are all married to husbands we love and have children we adore. As it happens, our husbands are also human beings, are imperfect, make mistakes, and are striving to be Godly men who love and support their families.

But there is one difference that, to us, is insignificant but to this irrational and fear-driven society in which we live, often becomes inflated beyond aesthetics: one of our husbands is black.

And to be truly honest, I don’t care.Hands004

I enjoy my brothers-in-law equally. I love the
m both the same. At times, I am even irritated by them both the same, not because of their skin color, but because of our mutual sin natures. What I mean is that sometimes my irritation may be justified while at other times it is not because I, too, struggle with sin and pride and fail to be humble. To me, my brothers are no more or less different than my two sisters. We are all in this family together, and Lord willing, we will all be together from now and forever on into eternity.

Why am I telling you all this? Frankly, this is nothing short of an outright plea to all fellow members of the human race to stop thinking in skin colors and remember who the real enemy is.

The real enemy is not marked by something as arbitrary as the amount of melanin in a person’s skin. The real enemy is not a person at all; he is a liar and the father of lies, and he has come to kill, steal and destroy. And in fact, that is just what I see him doing when the racial pot is stirred.

Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour.
(1Pe 5:8)

Please, brothers and sisters of all colors, please remember this. In God’s house, there is not black and white but we are all one in Christ, part of His body and paid for by His blood. Please do not be distracted by our enemy’s attempts to divide us up into little knots made up of labels we have imposed upon ourselves. We are not merely black and white — we are Christ’s and it is for Him that we should stand together.

I am not saying racism does not exist. It does; I have seen it too often to ignore. What I am saying, however, is that we who are one in Christ ought not let ourselves be divvied up so easily into racial categories. Instead, I propose we keep our eyes on the proverbial ball and keep in mind who our enemy really is. I propose that we remember that behind each killing lies one common factor: sin. The skin color of the murderer or the murdered does not matter in the least. Murder is murder. Sin is sin. This has not changed and will never change.

We cannot generalize. We cannot class a people’s behavior by a merely cosmetic difference.  I have friends and loved ones of many colors. Because we who are in Christ are God’s children, I even have brothers and sisters of many colors.

Imagine, for a moment, a world in which people with blue eyes were considered to be sinister in intention simply because of the stark blueness of their eyes. Ridiculous, but no less ridiculous than being divided over skin color. Please see this.

Even if you read these words and you do not know my Lord (who, by the way, was also not a white man but a Jew), I urge you to consider Him. I implore you to get to know Him through the Bible and through honest and sincere prayer that seeks to find the truth in a world teeming with lies. I encourage you to put into practice His words; such actions as loving your enemies and praying for those who persecute you, dying to yourself and living for Christ, obeying God no matter the personal cost. But even if you will not listen to God, at least listen to one of His servants and my brother in Christ, Martin Luther King, Jr.:

I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia, the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood. . .

. . . I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.

I implore you all –brothers, sisters, or non-relatives; black, white, brown, or whatever you may be: Do not judge anyone by the color of their skin nor by their nationality  but solely by the content of their character.

In my youth, I was once protected from a white rapist by a black man who frequently acted as a sort of big brother to me.  Indeed, this man of different skin saved my skin more than once from white guys with unsavory motives. Their skin color did not matter, but their character did. Back then, I did not understand who my enemy was, but I knew enough to realize that it wasn’t a person with a differently colored epidermis.

Today, I enjoy sitting at the table of brotherhood with fellow humans who happen to have a variety of colors of skin, eyes, and hair; who are of different heights and weights; who have different backgrounds and different family upbringings; even who attend different denominations. We do not all always agree,  but we can still love each other. We can still find what we share in Christ, and that is His undeserved forgiveness and love.

I am begging you no matter what your skin color, if you are in Christ, remember that we are one body in Him and individually members of one another. Let’s rally around the cross, not divide up over incidents sparked by sin and lawlessness. Let’s not even look too hard upon the sins of others but remember to feel shock and grief over our own sins most of all.

Most of all, let’s remember who the enemy is and resolve to stand firm against his schemes together. Your brothers with various flesh tones are not your enemy. Our enemy is the prince of this world, the one called Accuser. Do not listen to his accusations against our brethren.

Now more than ever the world needs to see Christians coming together in Christ regardless of external differences. Now more than ever, the world needs to see the love and forgiveness of God acted out and spoken out in the real, day-to-day lives of His children. Now more than ever, the world needs to see us humbly addressing our own sin with repentance instead of angrily addressing the sins of others and assigning blame. Now more than ever, the world needs to see that God is real by genuine acts of love and forgiveness, of unity in Christ and in His purpose, and by the ways God’s children refuse to be distracted from the real struggle.

Put on the full armor of God, so that you will be able to stand firm against the schemes of the devil. For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the powers, against the world forces of this darkness, against the spiritual forces of wickedness in the heavenly places. Therefore, take up the full armor of God, so that you will be able to resist in the evil day, and having done everything, to stand firm.
(Eph 6:11-13, NASB)

Remember, brothers and sisters, remember who the enemy is. Don’t let your love grow cold. Stand together. Resist evil. Rejoice together; grieve together. Share each others’ burdens. And always, always remember that we are to forgive as we have been forgiven and love one another.

By this is love perfected with us, so that we may have confidence for the day of judgment, because as he is so also are we in this world. There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear. For fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not been perfected in love.

We love because he first loved us. If anyone says, “I love God,” and hates his brother, he is a liar; for he who does not love his brother whom he has seen cannot love God whom he has not seen. And this commandment we have from him: whoever loves God must also love his brother. 

(1Jn 4:17-21)

 

What the Locust Devoured

~ Heather Davis ~ Leave a comment

“I will restore to you the years that the swarming locust has eaten, the hopper, the destroyer, and the cutter, my great army, which I sent among you. ”
(Joe 2:25)

Ironically, as I sit to type some thoughts on this passage, my kitchen table is being inundated with small, winged insects of some sort. How they got into my house, I do not know; however, I must assume that this sudden abundance of wildlife is one of the perks of living in a house that is nearly twenty years old. At least they are better companions than the skunk who rather memorably visited our duct work one February in the predawn hours…

At any rate, I find great comfort in the somewhat unusual promise of Joel 2:25. Granted, I am not a farmer and my entire livelihood or survival does not rest on whether or not my granaries are full for the winter. However, in a metaphorical sense, I have had a very valuable resource consumed by things no less devastating and greedy than locusts. What I lost was not food but time.

I am no longer a young woman. In fact, the bulk of my youthful years are those that I now lament, the ones devoured by ridiculous and wanton waste. I am reminded of the gloriously long stretches of absolutely free time that I squandered back in those days, and I am particularly reminded of them when I try to squeeze in an article or work on a seemingly endless novel in the brief, often stolen spaces of time when my family is all occupied with other things and the housework can wait a bit.

But the worst of it is when I think of all the time I used to have in which I could have been studying my Bible, learning more and more of my Lord and His ways. Had I been properly aligned, I might have already achieved mastery in Hebrew and possibly even Greek and been able to read my Lord’s words in the languages in which they were originally penned. As it is now, the study of Hebrew is one step forward and forty-two back while Greek still remains… well, it’s all Greek to me.

But I persevere because I know that when my desires are to know more of my King, He will fulfill them. The locusts may have consumed my best years, but He will restore them in some fashion or another. Indeed, He has already begun.

But the awakening of knowledge of the Lord did not start with mere wanting on my part. It began, just as the promise in verse 25 begins, with repentance. Let’s look back a few lines in chapter 2 of Joel:

“Yet even now,” declares the LORD, “return to me with all your heart, with fasting, with weeping, and with mourning; and rend your hearts and not your garments. “Return to the LORD your God, for he is gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love; and he relents over disaster. . .” Joel 2:12-13

I would never  expect my God to restore anything  which I still look upon fondly. If I were to look at the sins of my youth with an amused shrug, I do not believe He would have so quickly filled what was lacking in my understanding of Him and of His Kingdom.  It was my crushing sorrow, my mourning for the waste of my youth, and my turning away from those things in horror and loathing and turning fully to Him that began the restoration.

I am grateful that He abounds in steadfast love, that He is gracious and merciful. And with each passing year, I am thankful that He continues to increase my desire for Him and to open my eyes and humble my heart with the light of His Word. For my greatest longing is to accurately portray Him and fully experience Him, to live as a fully surrendered servant of Christ; in short, to die to myself and live for Christ.

Not that I have obtained it, but I press on to make it my own. And in my spiritual hunger, I am sincerely thankful that the King of kings continues to restore the years the locust has eaten.

Words of Life

~ Heather Davis ~ Leave a comment

After this many of his disciples turned back and no longer walked with him. So Jesus said to the Twelve, “Do you want to go away as well?”

Simon Peter answered him, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life…
John 6:66-68

Sometimes, it is easy to identify as a follower of Christ. Sometimes your church home seems like a place where you belong; where it is a delight to serve and meet the needs of others. Sometimes you are so wrapped up in the life of the church and the fellowship of other believers that it seems to be a glimpse of heaven on earth.

Then there are those other times… times when you feel isolated, disconnected, or even hurt by some perceived slight, whether it be real or imagined. Times when worship seems hollow and the fellowship of other believers is just another thing to do. At such times, it may be that time spent privately with the Lord seems one-sided and prayers– even pleading prayers for greater faith or for help with some weakness–seem to go unheeded by the Almighty.

These are the times of assaying; of testing the quality of the believer’s faith. Unfortunately, it is these seemingly dry and desolate seasons during which many turn back from following the Lord because He is no longer performing to their standard. In honesty, it is sorely tempting to give in at such times, to join the crowd in retreat rather than press on, parched and faint, and trusting in God to provide what is needed even if you cannot see it. 

Sometimes, Believer, you will walk this wearisome and strenuous path alone. God is there, of course, but you will not see Him through these times. He is proving the mettle of your faith; stripping away all the good feelings and the thrill, often even exposing the underlying self-centered nature at the center of the Believer’s service to others. He is removing all that is uplifting and encouraging, cutting down to the bare bones of faith.

It is here, on these lonely and forsaken paths, that He asks us, “Do you want to go away as well?”

It is here, clinging to God alone when there is absolutely nothing left to hang on to, where we must answer Him, “Lord, to whom else would we go? You have the words of life!”

Beloved brother or sister in Christ, if you are in a season such as this; if your journey with God takes you through an apparently endless desert wasteland, press on! Keep running the race, and when you can no longer run, walk, then crawl. Always press on, more deeply into the service of our God.

If the Scriptures seem closed to you, read them even more. Meditate on the more intentionally. Memorize them, even.

If our King seems not to hear your cries and pleas, replace your supplication with words of praise. Read the words of others if none will come to you. Entreat His favor endlessly, praying more for a humble and contrite heart than for physical mercies. Pray without ceasing, and believe that He will, in His time, grant those requests which are best for you and which prepare you for eternity at His side.

Whatever else you may do, do not turn away from Him, but resolve to follow Him anyway, even if it costs you everything. Follow Him, not for the material blessings now nor for spiritual blessings in the future, but because He is worthy of following. And know that once your faith has been tested and proven, it will be stronger yet. And never stop praying for greater faith.

Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.

Do not quench the Spirit. Do not despise prophecies, but test everything; hold fast what is good. Abstain from every form of evil.

Now may the God of peace himself sanctify you completely, and may your whole spirit and soul and body be kept blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ.

He who calls you is faithful; he will surely do it. 

1 Thessalonians 5:16-24

 

My Two Cents: An Appeal to Reason

~ Heather Davis ~ 4 Comments

I have struggled for many days about whether or not to post this, and so after the encouragement of some friends, I have decided to do so. If you read this, please commit to it and read through to the end,  particularly my post script.

Often I will stay out of hot button issues just because I hate fueling fires unless said fire is necessary for warmth and light; however…there is one recent controversy which has left me completely bewildered.

To put it bluntly, I’m astonished at whole issue of “gender identity.” For the life of me, I cannot fathom why this is an issue at all. Whatever happened to common sense and reason? Gender is somewhat startlingly evident by certain physical markers, thus it is not a detail that is difficult to assess.

And while I am a Christian — and openly so — I feel strongly that the concept of gender has less to do with any one person or group’s Christianity or lack thereof than it has to do with any one person or group’s ability to be sensible. I am puzzled as to why this thing is often made a point of Christian vs. Non-Christian when it is solely a matter of facts vs. fiction or reality vs. fantasy. This is not a hateful viewpoint; it is a rational one. It is patently absurd to haul words like “love” and “hate” into the thing at all.

You see, a person’s identity is not and has never been a basis for reality, but identity certainly should be affected by reality. We teach this to every three-year-old who zooms around the room wearing a pillowcase for a cape. He may indulge this fantastical identity as a superhero to a point, but the moment the tyke attempts to fly from the upper story window ought to be the point at which the loving parent intervenes with a healthy dose of reality.

To put it another way, I may identify myself as a 7-foot tall, black NBA player, but an appointment to be fitted by the Big and Tall Men’s shop, a peek in the dressing-room mirror, or about six seconds on the court would lay that fantasy to rest rather efficiently. The reality of my shortness, pasty whiteness, and sports-related ineptitude would give lie to my belief.

Why is it, then, that the  reality of physical gender has become such a stumbling block? I’m not saying that people might not be genuinely confused, but isn’t it more loving to help them deal with the reality of their circumstance rather than redefine what is and is not “real?”  As a culture, have we forsaken reason altogether?

I wonder sometimes. It frightens me to think of whole groups of people careening through life without a tether to anything so concrete as reality, though I daresay that the sensation of free-floating must be, at times, even more frightening to them. When I think of it in those terms, it makes me terribly sad.

But since many insist on dragging Christ’s name into this mess, I will address the matter from that standpoint as well. Perhaps it is inevitable, for He is never far in my thoughts on any  matter; this one is no different.

If this world has entirely forsaken facts for feelings, then I do have an appeal to make to my brothers and sisters in Christ. This is one of those points at which we must, must rally around the cross. We have a solemn duty to uphold the truth of the One who first created us and then ransomed us through no merit of our own — and truth as He created it and not as we interpret it. We must be humble, but humbly accepting His truth and not the world’s version. Truth and reality were not our creation and therefore are not ours to rewrite, and I fear we cannot bend truth to please mankind when to do so would dishonor our Creator.

Besides that, I do believe that fallout will come of this eventually, perhaps not for all but for some. The initial thrill of abandon caused by casting off anchors to truth will diminish. Soon confusion and fear will set in as lives affected by  this faux freedom find themselves in dismay, floundering in the deep with nothing to indicate up from down; no beacons to indicate a right turning from a wrong one.

At that point, we need to be there; a levelheaded people of Truth standing on the firm foundation of the Rock of Ages,  ready to give an answer to the hope that is within us to a deluded and frightened world; a hope that is in Jesus Christ alone.

Make no mistake: Jesus did come to save sinners and He does come to all of us just as we are.  That is truth. However, it is only a part of the truth. He comes to us as we are, dressed in filthy rags , blind and disease-ridden, but He does not leave us there.

Because of His love for us, He heals the blindness, cleanses us of the disease, and dresses us in His own garment of righteousness. In fact, He gave his life to pay a debt we cannot pay.

We have no choice, none of us, but to come to Jesus just as we are: sinners enslaved by sin. However, we cannot remain as we are and still walk with Him. There must be a change, a yielding to His authority and a dying to self, even to self-identification.

As His ambassadors, we who are in Christ must hold fast to truth. Who will speak truth and life into madness and decay and show the way out if it is not those who belong to the Way, the Truth, and the Life? If we fear being labeled “intolerant” more than we fear tolerating wrongness, what good do we do? Does love ever tolerate those habits or practices that cause ultimate harm to the beloved? Not at all!

Do not become confused by shifting ideologies nor afraid to speak intolerantly of deceit, my brothers and sisters! Love people enough to tell the truth, enough to be intolerant of those things that may cause temporary pleasure but will bring eternal harm.  Jesus is, was, and always will be the only hope we have in this world, and it is His truth — THE truth — that provides genuine freedom.

“If you abide in my word, you are truly my disciples, and you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.” (John 8:31b-32)

Post Script — Because of the current social climate, I feel it important to add this. When it comes to the whole issue of gender or sexual identity, I am absolutely not picking on one sin over another. The reason I speak so passionately against sexual sin is that I was once enslaved to it. Though all my iniquities were committed with men, they were not by any means lesser sins. They were grievous  and horrible, and although I have received forgiveness, I still carry memories that I wish I could shed.

I know the danger, I know the corruption, and I was rescued from it by the grace of God. It is from genuine love that I long for that same rescue to all who remain enslaved, wherever in the spectrum of sexual sin their particulars may fall.

That being said, I reiterate that do not see the gender identity issue as much an issue of “worse” sin — again, it is simply a matter of facts vs. fiction. I am not appealing to a lost world to act saved; I am appealing to all mankind to act rationally.