Davis Farm and Guest House

Vermont Family Owned Dairy Farm | Country Farm Guest House | Family Recipes | Stories of Faith, Love, and Family

Our Selfish Desires Begin to Wane, as Clearer His Will Becomes

There is a fountain filled with blood Drawn from Emmanuel’s veins; And sinners plunged beneath that flood Lose all their guilty stains. Lose all their guilty stains, Lose all their guilty stains; And sinners plunged beneath that flood Lose all their guilty stains. I sit at the piano.  It's been so long.  My fingers feel funny on the keys. The framed saying from a friend, now residing with the King of Kings, rests stately on the top of the piano. I think of her.  The dying thief rejoiced to seeThat fountain in his day;And there have I, though vile as ... View Post

He is Able

I fold laundry and I pray.  I pray over each sweet piece of fabric.  Each shirt, pair of pants.  I hold them close.  I pray for this college girl who is home.  Home to celebrate the life of her cousin.  Taken too soon; in our eyes.  This college girl who has lost a brother too.  And I make piles.  Neat piles.  I love to fold laundry.  I love the smell.  Shirts together.  Pants together.  Unmentionables together.  Neat piles.  Clean.  Orderly.  But I can't ever seem to to get the piles ... View Post

Serve, Sacrifice, Surrender

    22 years. 6 children.       1 grandchild.     1 child in heaven.     1 nephew just joined them. 3 of our parents there as well. The one still here dancing with the memory thief.   And here we are. Living in the nest where one has flown the coop. Where she fluffs her own nest. Where one has soared to heaven. Where one attends college.   The nest has changed.   Is changing.   And it's hard. Some days it's hard to remember there is joy. Some days it's hard to remember to serve the ... View Post

Until Then. . .

The world has stopped once again. The memory of the deep searing ache prevalent.  And now my farmer's sister knows that ache.  Another cousin now resides in Glory.  The boy who used my tapered candles as num chucks as he danced from one end of the couch to the other  while watching Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.  Perpetual Motion.  Eyes sparkling with boundless energy.  Curiosity oozing from every pore.  Mischief; the ring leader of the pack of cousins.  The first one to laugh.  The first one to cry.  The first ... View Post

Remembering

We stand at the grave.  This college friend and I.  Last together when life didn't hold so many painful pieces. Back when life was still fresh and young.  This day we stand at the grave of my oldest son.  "Tell me about Elijah, " she says.  My eyes fill with tears.  It's been months since I have let myself think of him.  Months since I have paused to remember.  Because in the remembering the searing ache lies.  The sharp pain of who he was and will never be.  The kind and caring, yet hot tempered red head.  So ... View Post

His Room is Still Empty. . .And So Is The Tomb

His room is still empty.  I climb to the top of the stairs.  It has become cluttered again. . .  with stuff.  Stuff that isn't his.  Extra baggage that doesn't belong there.  Our new adventure has consumed much energy.  Each time a list complete. . . another, just as long, emerges.  Details begat more details.  Things we hadn't noticed before, began to come to light.  We were taking the time to examine.  My quiet time has been filled with me talking.  Me requesting.  Pushing off time in the ... View Post