sin

Uneclipsed: When God’s Glory Intersects Our Story

~ Heather Davis ~ 6 Comments

I want to tell you a true story about the small-but-not-small ways God showed up during a recent trip. It really began a couple of years ago when I lined up a VRBO map and map of the path of totality for the April 8, 2024 eclipse. Already, bookings were slim around the major cities within an eight hour drive of my home, so I pored over the maps, sifted through rentals in obscure towns in search of a spot that met the following criteria:

  • Two bedrooms (my mama was coming with us)
  • Dog-friendly
  • Reasonably priced
  • A good view of the sky (i.e. – no tree cover)
  • As close to the center of the path of totality as possible

I found a cabin in Calico Rock, Arkansas that looked promising and booked it, hoping the online photos were accurate. At the last moment, an opportunity arose to leave a day early, and by the grace of God, all the loose ends fit. And a string of totally unmerited blessings commenced.

First, we arrived in the little town around 8:30 p.m., leaving us without time to make the local grocery. To my hangry husband’s profound relief, we made it to the nearest restaurant seconds before their kitchen closed. Although we technically entered the storefront, called Fricki’s Attic, the owners were kind enough to feed him while my mom and I appreciated the decor kept from the store’s history.

The next morning, I enjoyed a lovely view of the White River while reading my Bible on the back porch. Had I known the area, I could not have chosen a better place to view the eclipse, and I praised God for His goodness in allowing this rather silly and yet meaningful (to me) grace.

But some of my health issues were paying a visit and I wasn’t feeling up to snuff. I confess I allowed it to sour my attitude a bit. As I walked my dog, I found myself complaining to the Lord concerning two particular prayers I have been lifting up for years – one of them nearly 20 years. In my foul mood, I accused the Almighty of granting all sorts of requests except those that concern me the most deeply; the spiritual health & well-being of certain loved ones.

Not the best use of the morning, but there it is in raw detail.

When I returned, we all enjoyed a breakfast with startlingly excellent coffee at the Printing Press Cafe, visited the town’s museum, ducked into various local shops, made a trip to the local grocery, and settled in a bit more. While hubby caught up on some work, mama and I walked back into town. We checked out the “living ghost town” of East Calico Rock and read all the historical signs.

As a phone company retiree, Mama particularly enjoyed reading about old Calico Rock’s telephone exchange, run out of one lady’s house. She could be woken at any time of day or night, knew where the doctors were at any given moment, and had her finger on the pulse of the town in ways foreign to the communications departments of today.

From my comms contract experience, I can say unequivocally that such selfless service may be entirely foreign. I only hope my experience was not representative.

Not the old telephone exchange, but STILL a blast from the past!

During our walk, I chatted about a specific prayer God had answered very affirmatively (I shall not share it here because it involves someone else’s story), and it hit me: He absolutely DOES answer prayers concerning the spiritual health of those I love. I had accused Him falsely, blind to His answers probably because they aren’t as comprehensive and swift as my impatient soul prefers. By the end of our walk, He’d reminded me of at least one more such answer. Yours truly humbly acknowledged His glory and repented of my fallaciousness.

There had been rumors of possible overcast skies on eclipse day, but the day dawned sunny and gorgeous. We enjoyed a lazy morning, walked hakelev and settled in on the porch to wait for the big event. A great blue heron and a pair of bald eagles kept us entertained, and my hubs discovered the nest of an eastern phoebe just beneath the deck.

And God’s mercy continued. The sky remained devoid of clouds. I was beyond thrilled at the chance to see a total solar eclipse, enjoying the cool air and the unusual hush of the birds and insects.

After the main event, all of us (sans pooch) walked back to town and made a proper visit to the “speakeasy” that saved us all from certain hangriness late Saturday night. We bypassed the entrance to Fricki’s Attic and entered Juniper’s Back Door where we enjoyed a delicious late lunch in their eclectic dining area. In the photo, you can see the stage where live music is played on weekend nights.

The rest of the day was relaxing on the back porch, drinking in the views, and feeling gratitude that all the preparation, money, and time spent were not for nothing. I was delighted with Calico Rock and everything about the trip. Even more, I was beyond thankful for a God who doesn’t leave me stewing in my own bitter thoughts but who gently reminds me that I am the one who drifts away; He never does.

I enjoyed the last sunset at our lovely getaway cabin in Calico Rock before preparing to pack up and leave the next morning.

The day came to head home. One hour into our 6.5-hour drive home, we were hit at an intersection as my husband turned onto one of our many interchanges heading home. Once again, God’s mercy spilled out all over us.

The young man who hit us parked and walked across the busy highway, very apologetic and completely taking responsibility for his part in the accident – a very pleasant surprise. Before he’d spoken more than a handful of words, an officer who had been passing by was on the scene with his lights on, keeping traffic at bay.

No one was hurt, for which I am incredibly thankful.

In no time, our car was loaded onto a tow truck. My husband went with the tow guy who offered him a lift to a local car rental place. Meanwhile, the officer gave me and pooch a lift to a safer place to wait while another part-time fireman and part-time youth pastor gave Mama a ride to the same spot.

The officer and I may have had a little too much fun with the dog in the back of the squad car…

This one’s a real animal, Chief
Who’s a Bad Boy??

Our vehicle, unfortunately, is not drivable.

Now, one might imagine finding a rental car to get three adults, a 65-pound dog, and all our luggage back to Tennessee in the middle of nowhere would be a hard ask. I suppose it is, but not for my God – who, by the way, had mercy on me despite my self focused complaints on our first morning away. The whole delay took less than four hours, including a stop for lunch. Plus, everyone was so kind, we felt nothing more than mildly inconvenienced.

Of course, my husband and I will continue to be mildly inconvenienced for about a month of car sharing. We’ll be dealing with insurance and the like over the phone, and when the repairs have been made, we have a trip to Batesville, AR to plan. But at least we know God will be with us then, too.

And the dog? He thought this last leg of our journey was the best trip ever. Five and a half hours of cuddle time? Yes, please!

So believer, if you are weary, discouraged, or just plain sick of waiting on God, don’t forget that His timing is perfect. And look for small, everyday mercies while you wait. I guarantee you’ll find more than enough to fill your heart with joy. 

O Lord, hear my voice! 
Let your ears be attentive to the voice of my pleas for mercy! 
If you, O LORD, should mark iniquities, O Lord, who could stand? 
But with you there is forgiveness, that you may be feared. 
I wait for the LORD, my soul waits, and in his word I hope; 
my soul waits for the Lord more than watchmen for the morning, more than watchmen for the morning. 
(Psalms 130:2-6)

Excerpt from My First (Really Bad) Book

~ Heather Davis ~ 6 Comments

So, here’s a public admission, if you will. I’m working on a book. It’s been a long time coming, in part due to health challenges and the general busy-ness of life. And I confess – it’s sometimes difficult to give time to projects (like this blog, for example) that don’t offer financial help to my overworked husband and my three college kids. Yet, I believe the Lord has told me to write the book, so write I will. I’m starting to get some traction, but most of my writing time is devoted to the book at present.

But, I don’t want to leave y’all totally alone! The truth is, I’ve written two books before – truly bad ones. I’ve learned much since those first efforts, so maybe this time will be different. It’s in the Lord’s hands – my lot is to obey. Nevertheless, even from a bad book, there are good elements. Below is an excerpt from my first ever book; a scene I still like for the way it illustrates the seriousness of sin.

I’ll set up the scene by saying the character, Liam, is a successful star of sorts who meets the love of his life, a young lady named Stace who is a believer. Though she loves him, she keeps him at a distance because she doesn’t want to yoke herself with a man who isn’t committed to seeking the Kingdom of God first – even though from a worldly perspective, he would be a “dream guy.” Toward the end of the book, a freak accident results in her death. As she’s dying, she prays for Liam to see what she sees, and he has a supernatural experience with the Risen Christ. And now, on with the show:

For a moment, the Man held this posture, His hand poised over Liam’s blood-stained one, then He raised his head and looked Liam directly in the eyes. And Liam’s reality splintered.

In a flash, Liam found himself in a garden. In some inexplicable way, he knew it was not just any garden; it was the Garden – Eden. Amazed, he looked around, inhaling deeply of heady aromas. Everywhere he looked, there was beauty; well-tended and lovingly nurtured. Many of the plants were either in flower or heavy with a wondrous variety of fruits. The temperature was pleasantly warm. Birds twittered and darted among the trees and insects buzzed in and around the flowering plants…

As he moved forward with a steadily increasing sense of awe, he saw a woman who could only be the first woman, Eve. Just as he was about to call out a greeting, Liam noticed that she was not alone. Apparently, she was deeply immersed in a conversation with a creature unlike anything Liam had ever seen, for neither of them glanced his way as he approached.

Taking advantage of their inattention, Liam stopped beside the low hanging branches of a tree and observed the creature closely. Although he could not understand the words, something in the silken tones of the creature’s voice was appealing, even soothing. As it spoke, it paced slowly before the woman, displaying its beautiful, scintillating scales to great advantage. However, to Liam’s eye, something in the sinuous way it moved as it spoke was suggestive of a snake. This must be the serpent.

Apprehensively, Liam took a step closer stopping only when he noticed that the woman and the beast were not alone. Nearby, a man sat leaning back against a tree, half-listening or perhaps pretending not to listen as he idly wound then unwound the tendrils of a vine around his finger.

As understanding struck him, Liam’s heart sank; he knew this story. It was one of the first he learned from the Bible.
Wait – could he stop this from happening? If he stopped this first great tragedy, would it save Stace? Maybe that’s why he’d been brought here!

Running to the woman, he tried to distract her, to warn her, but she seemed not to hear.  He whirled around to grab the man’s shoulders and haul him to his feet if necessary, but Liam’s hands passed through empty space. For the first time, he realized he wasn’t actually in the Garden. Rather, he was seeing a memory, painted in vivid color and for all the world like some sort of three-dimensional movie. Although he experienced the scene as if he were a part of it, he could neither interact nor interfere.

Sickened, he watched the woman listen attentively to the deceiver; watched her eyes growing thoughtful. Though her husband was still close enough to hear, hands now resting limply at his sides, he made no attempt to engage in the dialog.

Liam looked again at the woman. A subtle change was coming over her face. The childlike guilelessness he first saw began to harden, touched by a tinge of disdain. The serpent continued its ceaseless spiel, and her eyes began to drift toward a tree.

Suddenly, a Voice broke into the scene, “The tree she looks upon is the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil. The Tree of Life is not far away. Watch, and learn.”

Uselessly, Liam continued to watch as the woman moved toward the forbidden tree, watched her examine the fruit closely, weighing it in her palm as if the weight of consequence could be measured by the heaviness of the fruit. The subtle change he had begun to see in her face moments ago steeled into something so entirely modern that he reeled with the shock of it. He recognized it as the very look that had haunted him from his own mirror on so many occasions. It was a face filled with Pride; ruthless, stubborn, and petulant pride.

With the painfully familiar expression came another: doubt. Almost, Liam fancied, he could hear her inner dialog. Perhaps all the serpent had implied just might be true. Perhaps God was being stingy, withholding something that was good for them because He wanted no rival. Perhaps there would be no death. Such thoughts swam in her eyes as plainly as if printed there.

The woman took a bite of the fruit. Then, quickly as if she feared taking this step alone, she handed some of the fruit to the man who was with her, and he ate as well.

In that one, seemingly insignificant and ordinary act, the first man and woman turned their back on the One who had given them everything, even life itself.

A weight of horror settled on Liam, and he could only observe in futility as the shock of comprehension, then shame, distorted their faces. No longer did their expressions radiate an almost uncanny, beauteous innocence; no longer did their eyes dance with joy untainted with sorrow. 

The knowledge they’d craved did not bring the power they hoped. It never did. It never did. Oh, if only they had listened! He felt the ache of it so deep, he could hardly stand.

As the couple turned and fled deeper into the garden, Liam saw the discarded remnants of the fruit lying on the ground and he knew: Death had entered here.

Having rejected the Tree of Life for the one Tree forbidden them, they now knew they had chosen poorly and now their innocence had been ripped away leaving behind a ragged wound. The days of walking with their Creator in simple love and trust had ended. The horror and shame of what they had done drove them to try to hide from the God Who Sees.
Liam ached for them.

But quickly, other scenes flashed past with brutal intensity; the far-reaching consequences of one simple act of distrust until the mind-bending network of billions of sins and their consequences culminated in the ultimate price. Death, it is true, but a death like no other.

The Man – the same Man who had knelt by Stace – now raised in a gruesome display before a mob. This time, he wasn’t He clothed in intense white but caked in blood and dust, bearing on His head the very symbol of the curse of sin – branches of thorns twisted into a sick parody of a king’s circlet and shoved down over His brow, Blood from numerous scratches ran into His eyes.

God’s own Son, battered and torn, crowned with the unfathomable weight of countless sins, covered in shame and wretchedness that belonged to mankind – yet He wore it willingly. For the two rebels in the Garden. For all humanity. Even for the very ones who jeered from the crowd, He suffered humiliation and agony and Death.

For the first time, Liam understood the wonderful, terrible reality of the God who came to rescue those who rejected Him by paying the price of their insurrection with Himself.

And yet, still many did not believe. So many, oh so many, chose to believe themselves wiser, stronger, more progressive or modern or advanced than to believe in something so foolish as a God, never knowing that what they rejected was the glorious exhilaration of true Life. And such a Life—Life lived in harmony with the power, wonder, and endless love of the very Creator of life!

The scene shifted, and Liam saw himself ad a very young man; saw his mockery of his parents and his rejection of the two hard-working, plain people who loved him as best as they could. But he turned his back on them to become something more than a small-town hick. And Death entered that relationship.

He saw himself after his first big break, flattered by the attentions of many young ladies and reveling in his own sexual prowess, never once thinking of anything but his own pleasure. And Death stalked into many relationships.
He saw himself grow in fame and begin to wield some control over what roles he would accept, sometimes withdrawing like a sulky child when his whims were not met. And Death prowled among his business relationships, too.

Again and again, Liam watched countless moments of his own life; moments where he had chosen to feed his pride or flaunt his aptitude, often to another’s detriment and always to achieve a sense of personal victory. And side-by-side with each distinction and achievement as his self-importance swelled, Death walked through wide-open doors into many places in his life.

Finally, he saw himself waking alone in bed the morning before he had first met Stace, and he knew—the Thing that had stalked him when success and wealth failed to fill a deep void within; the Thing that clawed with hateful fingers at his throat and stifled his breathing – was Death.

For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord (Romans 6:23, ESV).

When Job Is My Portion

~ Heather Davis ~ 6 Comments

This past Saturday, I woke to one of Tennessee’s typical grey winter days. After reading my morning portion of the Word, I caved in to my Aussie’s pleading stares and vocalizations. A quick check of the weather app assured me the looming clouds would not spill over for “at least 60 minutes,” nonetheless, I donned my rain gear and set off with the furry victor happily trotting at my side. Since my portion is in Job at present, it seemed appropriate to me to listen to said book while I walked to enhance my morning’s reading, and I decided to backtrack and listen from Job chapter 1.

The weather app lied.

About a half-mile into my walk, a misty drizzle started. It was fairly warmish and the drizzle was light, so I decided to keep going. Besides, my poor pooch had already missed several walks this winter due to my state’s bipolar weather and my own health issues. As I passed the lake, I noted my friend the limpkin still inexplicably hanging out at the water’s edge despite being a good 450-odd miles from the northern edge of his typical range – not to mention last week’s snowpocalypse.

He stared at me as I passed, possibly wondering why the crazy human trudges through the mist and still stops to snap photos of him. Good question. I moved on, listening to Job’s lament and feeling a bit dissatisfied with my choice. But I kept walking.

About halfway through my short route, the drizzle picked up to a light rain. By this time, Eliphaz, Bildad, and Zophar had begun their potshots and part of my mind drifted to my own times of trial. The rain lent a dismal ambience to perfectly complement the audio.

When the light rain began to drift toward downpour, I debated the merits of fighting the rain for control over my phone’s screen to make a call. Instead, I put my head down and determined to finish the last 3/4 mile or so as quickly as possible. Then I saw movement. Through the raindrops coating my glasses, a familiar vehicle drew near.

My husband had noted the increase in damp and come to my rescue. Hallelujah!

The whole experience reminded me of a dark and dismal time in my life. Like Job, I’d lost a lot (though not all). The people I’d called “friend” abandoned me in my hour of need, and I felt myself alone, groping through a cold and misty waste with nowhere to turn. Then out of nowhere, as I trudged ahead in a grim and hopeless determination, my Rescuer appeared.

I found the Word of God – not just the Book but the Redeemer it speaks of: Yeshua Messiah, Jesus the Christ, Immanuel, God-With-Us. My Lord and my God. In my darkest hour, in abject fury and despair, I shouted my unbelief and unbelievably, He came to my rescue anyway.

He took me under the shelter of His wings and slowly began the work of healing my wounded heart, untwining the deeply-rooted sins that infected my soul, and cleaning up the mess I’d made. My journey since then has still had moments of despondency and pain, but I now have a safe and warm destination to look forward to.

Just as my husband picked me up and drove me home, my Lord and Savior is carrying me through the murk of life. And I know that someday, He will bring me Home. This is what I keep in mind when Job’s lot seems to be my portion. Even without the Book, Job himself clung to this hope and kept going.

My friend, so can you.

For I know that my Redeemer lives, and at the last he will stand upon the earth. And after my skin has been thus destroyed, yet in my flesh I shall see God.

(Job 19:25-26)

Diagnosis

~ Heather Davis ~ 2 Comments

“That’s not a diagnosis; it’s why I’m here.”

Frustration hardened my voice, drawing a sigh from my doctor. She replied, “We’ve literally tested you for everything, and it IS a diagnosis. There may not be a blood test yet but there are diagnostic criteria, and you do have the hallmark symptom of post exertional malaise. Trust me, this is it. Do your research.”

So much for the hope of something treatable.

A diagnosis of ME/CFS is kind of like being told you have a virus, only the symptoms won’t improve in a couple of weeks. No treatment, no definitive disease course, no cure. Yet this obstacle felt minor compared to the despair I felt in my former life as an atheist.

In those days, I could see the world was a mess. Everywhere I looked, I saw a profound brokenness; a sickness for which I could find neither explanation nor cure. Even mirrors reflected the malady so I avoided them when possible. On my own, single and careless if not quite carefree, I could stomach the ugliness. I even participated; a hopeless if-you-can’t-beat-’em-join-’em mentality.

But on the day I stared down at twin pink lines on a pregnancy test, the weight of the world’s horrors squeezed the air from my lungs.

Could I bring a child into this dismal world where evil lurked in broad daylight; where wars and kidnappings and murders were so commonplace that the news needed something splashier to capture the attention of a calloused public? Was it even moral to consider ushering an innocent life into such depravity?

These were the questions that drove me to my search for truth, and in doing so, I discovered there is not only a definitive diagnosis for the world’s disease, there is also a cure.

Imagine my relief.

The world’s diagnosis is simple: sin.

It’s hard to believe so much atrocity and sorrow can be encompassed by three letters of the English language, and yet it’s true. We live in an age that discounts sin as old-fashioned while failing to grasp the far-reaching devastation it brings.

Instead of measuring right and wrong against a set standard, we prefer to measure our choices against other rights and wrongs. “Sure, I’ve told a lie or two, but at least I’m not a murderer.”

We compare ourselves to Hitler or Charles Manson and feel confident that we aren’t that bad. But we are. The infection is so great, we don’t even see how it’s warped our very understanding.

Instead of being measurable against itself, sin is far more like cancer. One tiny cancer cell multiplies rapidly until the entire organism’s resources are taxed. Cancer, untreated, leads to death. Sin is no different but it is more complicated. Cancer affects only the organism it lives within; sin affects everything and everyone.

Like ripples a water droplet causes in a body of water, sin’s malignancy spreads out and disrupts other people and other elements of this world. To trace the influence of the myriad sins even of a single human being would be tantamount to documenting the impact and reverberation of every single ripple caused by each drop of rain in a hurricane.

However, the world and its inhabitants are not affected by a single person’s sin but by the collective sins of all people of all times. Only an all-powerful, all-knowing Being could sort it all out. And indeed, that’s exactly what happened.

God, the Creator who spoke the world and all its complexity into existence, understands the hopeless mangling of His creation caused by sin. He who created humanity that we might share His love also allowed us – as love must – to choose for ourselves whether or not we will share in it. And when each and every one of us rejected His love for the fleeting pleasure of deciding for ourselves what is and is not good and right, He saw the mess we made of things – and He had compassion.

As a father shows compassion to his children, so the Lord shows compassion to those who fear Him. For He knows our frame; He remembers that we are dust.

Psalm 103:13-14

To me, this still comes as a shock.

The human response to a creation that defies and destroys would be anger, frustration, annihilation. But God had compassion for us rebels.

His compassion led to the cure for sin – a cure that I’ll be the first to admit sounds unbelievable. He sent His Son to live as human beings were meant to live – in obedience to His created structure – and then to die as a willing sacrifice to pay the price for sin.

For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Romans 6:23

Though the Son of God and Son of Man may have clothed Himself in death, He didn’t wear it forever. By the mystery of melded God and flesh and the unwarranted compassion of the Creator who became a part of His own creation, He died. Then He left death behind, discarded along with his grave cloth. He not only accepted the penalty for sin, He overcame it.

Death is swallowed up in victory.
O death, where is your victory?
O death, where is your sting?

1 Corinthians 15:55

Now because of Yeshua Messiah, Jesus the Christ, all we who are hopelessly infected with sin can choose to die to sin by putting our desire to be in charge to death. Then, free from the stranglehold of sin, we can also discard death as a useless garment and walk into true and everlasting life.

The journey starts now, and we must each choose our path. Choose wisely. There are only two options: either the path of sin leading only to death, or the Way of Messiah Yeshua by which we put sin to death and are gifted with life and peace- glorious, true and abundant.

There is only one cure for the cancer of the soul, and His name is Yeshua (Jesus). But like all cures, it is up to each person to accept it and apply it.

Cult of Death; Gift of Life

~ Heather Davis ~ 2 Comments

For to set the mind on the flesh is death, but to set the mind on the Spirit is life and peace…
So then, brothers, we are debtors, not to the flesh, to live according to the flesh. For if you live according to the flesh you will die, but if by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live.

Romans 8:6, 12–13 (ESV)

When facing an enemy that has stated it loves death more than others love life, what is the best step forward?

This is not only the question facing Israel in the current war against Hamas and the looming threat of other militant Islamic groups surrounding them, it’s truly the question we all face daily.

The greatest enemy isn’t Islam. It isn’t a group of people with radical ideology, its neither the Left nor the Right or any other human being at all. Our greatest enemy is far more ancient. He craves death and relishes it like fine wine. Lies are his native tongue, and he delights in threading chaos through both warp and weft of human relations. He inhales decay as a sweet savor and exhales ruin. He gloats as the world squabbles and burns.

You are of your father the devil, and your will is to do your father’s desires. He was a murderer from the beginning, and does not stand in the truth, because there is no truth in him. When he lies, he speaks out of his own character, for he is a liar and the father of lies.

John 8:44, ESV

I can’t help but feel great grief for Israel, but I feel an equal sorrow for the people dominated by radical Islam. In their own holy book, it is written that lying is permissible in cases of war, and in some hadith it is stated that there is a continual war against infidels who are enemies of Allah. It’s permissible to lie to convert the world to Islam, and death is the alternative to conversion. The zealous followers who drink this philosophy for breakfast believe they serve God, but if Allah is a god then he is the god of this world.

Again, the devil took him to a very high mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the world and their glory. And he said to him, “All these I will give you, if you will fall down and worship me.” Then Jesus said to him, “Be gone, Satan! For it is written, ‘You shall worship the Lord your God and him only shall you serve.’

Matthew 4:8–10 (ESV)

If a man dies only to bring death and chaos to others, it is a sad thing for all. This is the mission given to many poor souls who fight so fervently for their own destruction. I shudder to think of what happens when the rewards they believed they would gain turn out to be just another lie.

Yet the call of the Lord Jesus is a call to put to death the “deeds of the body” – all that is unholy and evil within ourselves – hatred, envy, deceit, strife, lust, self-worship. When Bonhoeffer said, “When Christ calls a man, He bids him come and die,” he doesn’t mean we die to bring death to others. It is death to self.

We put to death what is deadly to others and to our own spirits so that we may not only gain life, we can give it as well. Sin is death and always brings a death. Yet for the sake of putting sin to death, many who live for Christ are accused of the very evils they are at war against. This is why:

Yet for your sake we are killed all the day long; we are regarded as sheep to be slaughtered.

Psalm 44:22, Romans 8:6

It’s been a curious irony to feast on Romans 8 against the backdrop of wars and rumors of war. On one hand, my heart grieves for the world as it burns with fury and with physical fire. On the other, I welcome the suffering because I know they :are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed in us” (Romans 8:18) – those of us who are in Christ, that is.

My heart sings with gratitude for the Light of the world who healed my blind eyes, opened my unhearing ears, and unshackled my mind from the lies of the evil one’s domain. It also keens for all souls who do not know the goodness of God or who, doubting His goodness, refuse to obey His good and gentle Way.

But mostly, I rejoice because I am my Beloved’s and He is mine. No matter what happens to my body, I am free; free from the law of sin and death, free from the fear of suffering, and free to live fully for the One who once died and rose again.

Oh how I long for the adherents of the death cults to turn and accept the free gift of life! They could stop conquering mere humanity and become more than conquerors, given over to love, and never separated from the goodness of God again in this world or the one to come. How I long for all people to come to this hope!

No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Romans 8:37-38

Reflections of an Introvert

~ Heather Davis ~ 1 Comment

Confession: I am quite happy in the company of no one other than my heavenly Father for days at a time. I can literally spend hours inspecting the structure of a spider’s web, angling my camera to capture just the right shot of a dew-covered beetle, or contemplating the Scriptures while watching birds forage.

Before Christ, I clung to the notion that people were too people-y for me to deal with, particularly since they kept having birthdays and parties and such. The burden of being social sorely taxed the selfishness of Old Me.

Then there was the issue of my mental self-image, which began in the latter part of the 1900s (as my offspring are so fond of reminding me) and persisted for an indecent stretch of years into the new century. If you can imagine a creature a bit like a female version of Pigpen from Peanuts gifted with a less wholesome adaptation of King Midas’s curse where her very presence caused the immediate vicinity to putrefy, you have a sanitized picture of what Young Me saw in the mirror.

The sense of myself as a thing worthy of contempt coupled with something very like a phobia of “normal” people did not lend itself to the development of healthy relationships. But since nature abhors a vacuum, as the common rendering of Aristotle’s postulation goes, Old Me found herself enmeshed in unhealthy relationships, one after another, for no small amount of years.

Thus, Old Me learned to find comfort in solitude. That is, until God stepped into the picture.

Crazy how the Creator of all things visible and invisible can take a person who is perfectly uncomfortable brooding on her own beastliness and turn her inside out. Good thing, too, because it got crowded in my head, what with the piling up of decomposing dreams and the choking dust cloud of self-focus.

So it is that I find myself now – decades after this rather harrowing but necessary rearrangement of my entire being – learning how to people with the best of them. This, I assure you, is quite despite my best efforts to convince the All-Knowing One how little I know about peopling.

Alas, His power is made perfect in my weakness, as He reminded me first through childbearing, then homeschooling, then as a teacher, and on and on to whatever is next. I don’t need to be a good peopler; I just need Him.

This brings me to one of my latest lessons.

Throughout the Book, there are countless commands given that necessitate the presence and fellowship of people. Jesus tells us, “Love one another as I have loved you,” (John 13:24) – a thing I cannot do if I only contemplate the Word in the company of beetles and dew.

In Matthew 6:14-15, Colossians 3:12-14, and Ephesians 4:32, to name a tiny percentage, I am reminded that the forgiveness I’ve received from God in Christ is for extending to others, not for hoarding. What’s more, I cannot forgive if I have not been hurt by others, and I cannot be hurt by others if I avoid them.

Thus, my Lord recently gave me the words to articulate a lesson He’s taught me in practice over the last decade or so: if His Word commands us to gather with others (and I believe it does, both subtly and overtly), I am responsible for obeying this command and cannot wait on others to do so.

And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near.

Hebrews 10:24-25

Much to Old Me’s woe, this is true even if I am the proverbial new kid on the block. What I mean is, if I am commanded to people in order to practice the one-anothers and grow in grace and obedience, I can’t afford to sit back and wait until someone takes notice of me and invites me in. I need to pursue the companionship of others myself.

For a natural introvert, that can be a daunting ask. Yet it is also a profound act of trust in God to step out in obedience, denying my natural inclination to remain alone, and follow Him.

As my pastor often says, “If you can’t say amen, say ouch.“

However, for my fellow introverts out there in the world, take heart! Obeying God never brings insecurity or gloom but only exposes our internal ick to the fresh air of His Spirit and the cleansing Light of His Presence. The first steps may be scary, but take them anyway.

By choosing to seek out community for the sake of trust in the One who laid down His life for me, I’ve been blessed beyond words – through people. I’ve learned to people better from people who are good at peopling, and I’ve learned the joys of exercising love and forgiveness in the process.

So get out there. Invite folks over for dinner or coffee, and keep doing it until something sticks. I can’t promise it will be easy, but I can promise if you do it for the Lord, it will be worth it.

Migraine Phase Three | The Attack

~ Heather Davis ~ 2 Comments

It is good for me that I was afflicted, that I might learn your statutes. The law of your mouth is better to me than thousands of gold and silver pieces.

Psalm 119:71-72

There’s not much funny about this phase. However, I can’t say there’s nothing good about it. But first, a couple of details: the attack or headache phase is the most straight-forward. It’s <drum roll> a headache!

But it is not just a headache. A migraine is a very distinct kind of headache, usually (but not always) one-sided with a pulsing, pounding, or throbbing quality. I used to liken the early sensation to a gong being rhythmically and silently struck behind my left eyeball, although that probably only makes sense if you’ve ever been close enough to a gong to feel the vibrations in your teeth – or if you happen to have migraines similar to mine.

Of course, medication helps in varying degrees, but without medication (and sometimes even with it ) there’s a lot that goes on.

Besides head pain, this phase also comes with a complement of varied and sometimes bizarre symptoms. Nausea, vomiting, confusion, fatigue, and sensitivity to light and sound are common for most migraineurs. And when I say nausea, I mean that you feel like you’re going to vomit if you move even an eyelash, you do vomit if you move even an eyelash, and you pray you can vomit in a dark, quiet place or else the pain quadruples (and if your stomach does rebel, the cool tile of the bathroom floor seems a perfectly sensible place to ride out the rest of the storm. After all, any attempt to exit the necessary room would only bring you back).

Aside from the typical complement of migraine headache symptoms, my personal little collection includes facial pain, muscle spasms in my neck or upper back, and a sensation that my heart is pounding along with an ability to hear or feel it pound in my left ear. In addition, my husband always tells me I feel feverish but I never have a fever. There’s also a kind of weird altered consciousness that I couldn’t describe if you asked me to – just a sense of everything being ever-so-slightly off.

I said earlier that the prodromal phase is the longest, but that’s only true when medication works. An unmedicated episodic migraine headache can last anywhere from four to 72 hours.

Then there’s chronic migraine.

For nearly a decade of my life, I had chronic migraine and “status migrainosus,” meaning a migraine that never really went away. You heard that right – a years-long headache that waxed and waned but never disappeared. And yes, it came with all of the above symptoms mixed in with prodromal and postdromal symptoms in a kind of general stew of unwellness; a sort of ouroboros of illness.

It was impossible to sort out, and much more than just a headache. But medication helps, and I literally praise God for triptans and for giving human beings the ability to concoct medications!

But let me circle back to my second statement of this post: there are good things about the headache phase.

It was during a medication-resistant migraine as I lay in a darkish room with my arm draped over my eyes that I first really grasped what the Lord Jesus did for humanity.

The thing is, I rebelled against my Creator, mocked Him, mocked His people, and tried to set myself up as my own little deity. For this, I deserve annihilation. Pain is a mercy, when you think about it, because pain is a signal that there’s something wrong. And if you deserve to be unmade, pain is a slap on the hand. Even after surrendering to the Lord, I fall short of holiness every day. Even my very best deeds are tainted by selfishness. If I may be brutal in my candor, I have become keenly aware of my own thirst for reciprocity or recognition and I would love to be free of it. I am far from selfless.

But the entire earthly life of Jesus exemplified selflessness. He did not deserve pain; He didn’t even deserve to don this moist and malfunctioning mess of meat, bone, nerve, and vessels we call a body.

The One through Whom all things were created didn’t deserve to submit to the humiliation of becoming an infant; of being hungry or thirsty or cold or any of the unpleasantness that comes of being human. And He most certainly did not deserve to have the eternal fellowship with the Father severed by taking on the foulness of my sin – not to mention the sins of the entire world – and endure an excruciating death devised by the twisted mind of His own creation.

Yet He entered into sorrow and anguish to pay the cost of all our sin in order that we could be free from it and once more enter into the Divine Presence by donning the righteousness of Jesus to cover our shame. Because of this, I have found a sweetness in my suffering and a unique fellowship with my Lord in pain.

Because of what He endured for me, I am even able to thank Him for the pain that helped me understand a little bit more. It is good for me that I was afflicted.

A Note to My Church Family

~ Heather Davis ~ Leave a comment

And he [Jesus] is before all things, and in him all things hold together. And he is the head of the body, the church.

Colossians 1:17-18a

Hello, church family,

Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Heather Davis, and I’m one of many who call the Church at Station Hill home. I may have taught your elementary-aged child or preschooler on Sunday mornings or at VBS, or you may know me from another capacity in the church. Or you may not know me at all.

That’s kind of my point. I’m nobody in particular; just a church member like you.

Like you, I have many emotions about Jay’s candidacy as the next Senior Pastor at Brentwood Baptist. I have no doubt in my mind or heart that this is God’s will. I cannot think of a better-suited man to take this position. Nor can I think of a better Senior Pastor’s wife than Tanya. She has the incredible ability to support her man while keeping his hat size reasonable and his feet firmly planted on Earth.

I love them as a team and I love them as people. They are wonderful. I am going to miss them and their family, just as all of us are.

But.

Church, I want to talk to you a little bit today. I want to impress on you that we cannot be followers of Jay Strother. We must be followers of Jesus Christ.

If this is God’s church, it’s His choice who goes where – and when – and why. We need not worry about it because we know that He is good. We know that He works all things for the good of those who love Him (Romans 8:28).

I can tell you from experience, this literally means all things. It means pain. It means suffering. It means this great shaking up. It means joys and triumphs; it means trials and challenges. It even means devastation. ALL THINGS.

This is the amazing power of our God. He can even take our past mistakes and the sin He freed us from and work it for the good of those who love Him and for His church by opening avenues of ministry to those still captive. He fully, utterly redeems. It’s astonishing. That’s what I want us to focus on right now – how good our God is and how thoroughly we can trust Him.

Something I’ve realized over the last couple of days of reflection is how Jay – in true Jay fashion – has been subtly preparing us for this moment for some time now.

Our pastor has worked closely with our God, weaving hints and allusions to change and scattering into his sermons, working from passages God ordained ahead of time. By doing so, he’s helped ready our hearts and simultaneously given us an example of walking in the good works God prepared ahead of time for him to do.

For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them.

Ephesians 2:10

This is why we love his preaching so much. But it’s also why I know he is well-suited to be the next Senior Pastor.

So for now, I encourage us all to just come around him and his family, and show them love and support. When we get our next pastor, let’s show him and his family the same love and support.

I pray that our church will grow spiritually through this; that we’ll experience God’s goodness and sovereignty in an amazing way. And church, I pray that we’ll each lean into what it means to be disciples of Jesus Christ. We cannot follow any human teacher or leader over Jesus.

I’ve had the privilege of sitting under the teaching of amazing and gifted teachers and leaders in my new life in Christ. These people challenged and inspired me, but I don’t follow them. I follow the Lord. And I encourage you to do the same.

Let me share with you that my experience with the Lord includes being saved from dark and horrendous sin as an adult. This was followed by decades of chronic pain and invisible illness, dealing with past and present emotional trauma, and things that honestly might surprise you. I can tell you that every bit of it has served to bring me closer to Jesus. How? Through His Word and through prayer. It really is that simple.

Church family, whatever we face, whatever lies ahead, know this: God is good. He is the One we need. He is our leader, not Jay.

If Christ is truly the head of the church, don’t forget that He is the one to follow. He has so graciously given us his Word. That is what I urge you to press into at this time. Get into the Word of God. As Jay has said so many times, he can’t fill us on Sundays; he can only make us more hungry.

For his sake, for the Lord’s sake, for your own sake – be hungry.

God’s Word is good. The love of Christ, the Word of God, the Spirit of God acting and moving in us – that’s what we are made to need. That’s what God designed us to crave.

And church family, I can promise you this: following Jesus isn’t always comfortable. Just like He’s shaking up our church right now, He will take you places you can never imagine and pull you way, way out of your comfort zone. I’m pretty sure He’s doing that now with Jay and Tanya.

Yet I can promise you this as an ordinary layperson who happens to love and trust the Lord – if we fully surrender and trust in Him, it’s going to be good.

Caught in the Act

~ Heather Davis ~ Leave a comment

I want to share a recent moment of conviction with y’all. I was caught in the act of sinning, but because I am a parent, I know it was for my own good.

It is for discipline that you have to endure. God is treating you as sons. For what son is there whom his father does not discipline?

Hebrews 12:7

Last Saturday, I had a migraine and went to bed early. I woke up Sunday morning to find dirty dishes waiting for me in the kitchen. Since my husband and I are empty-nesters, it didn’t take much to determine the identity of the culprit. It made me angry, and my mind filled with ugly, hateful thoughts – thoughts I indulged as I began to tidy up.

Then my sullen inner dialog was interrupted by these words: the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve…

With that Scripture, the Holy Spirit convicted me of my sinful response to my husband’s dish indiscretion.

One of the passages you’ll find this verse in is Matthew 20:20-28. This is where the mother of two of Jesus’s disciples, James and John, had approached the Lord. As if to prove helicopter moms existed before helicopters did, she asked that her sons be given prominent positions in His kingdom when Jesus established it.

Jesus responded in a way that doubtless stalled the rotors of the matriarch: He offered a lesson in humility. After an initial declaration that the positions of power she requested were not His to offer, He went on to teach hard truths about the power. The kind of power mankind associates with leadership is in stark contrast to God’s way of leading. In fact, Jesus stated that even He – the King of kings – “came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many” (Matthew 20:28).

As the Spirit brought these things to mind, yours truly was certainly humbled and repented in prayer as I washed the dishes. But He was not done with me yet. While I went about my morning routine, God brought to mind all the ways my husband has given his life for me – working ridiculous hours so I could stay home with our kids when they were little, sacrificing so I could homeschool, and even staying in jobs that wore him out so our children could have a private school education in high school.

Then there’s Jesus who did give His life as a ransom for mine – even though in my arrogant youth, I mocked Him and His followers. Despite my scorn, He loved me and chose me, paying the penalty I deserved for my very haughtiness and my derision of Him.

But God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us. . . For if while we were enemies we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son, much more, now that we are reconciled, shall we be saved by his life.

Romans 5:8, 10

And yet, here I was complaining about a couple of dishes.

The truth is, if I’m to be Christlike, that means being willing to serve. Period. No contingencies, no clauses, no conditions. I’m thankful for the Holy Spirit reminding me of this truth when I slipped into sin. Getting caught in the act may not be exactly comfortable, but I’ve come to learn that the end result is beyond wonderful.

For the moment all discipline seems painful rather than pleasant, but later it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it.

Hebrews 12:11

60 Second Devotional | December 13

~ Heather Davis ~ Leave a comment

Behold, the days are coming, declares the Lord, when I will raise up for David a righteous Branch, and he shall reign as king and deal wisely, and shall execute justice and righteousness in the land. . .  And this is the name by which he will be called: ‘The Lord is our righteousness.’

Jeremiah 23:5-6


Jeremiah 23 holds another prophecy of the Messiah. Again, He is referred to as a descendant of David, as a King, and another name is given – the Lord is our righteousness.

This is hard news for those of us who believed we could be good people, good enough to tip the scales of eternal justice in our favor. We can’t. But what we can do is follow God’s plan – the rescue plan He made from the beginning – and accept His Messiah, the Lord, as our righteousness.

But how?

There are several passages of Scripture that talk of putting on Christ – Ephesians 4:20-24, Romans 13:14, and Galatians 3:27 to name a few. The idea here is that we are naked and exposed before the Throne of Divine Justice. All we’ve done, all those times we’ve forcibly silenced the voice of our conscience and done what we know to be wrong, completely unmasked.

But that is not the way you learned Christ!— assuming that you have heard about him and were taught in him, as the truth is in Jesus, to put off your old self, which belongs to your former manner of life and is corrupt through deceitful desires, and to be renewed in the spirit of your minds, and to put on the new self, created after the likeness of God in true righteousness and holiness.

Ephesians 4:20-24

Then Christ comes, the One who died to pay the price for us, and if we accept His help, He covers us with His righteousness like a cloak of dignity. His dignity. But we have to accept it and put it on.

By doing so, we implicitly agree to honor His righteous name as well.

But put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh, to gratify its desires.

Romans 13:14