The Davis Family

And the last enemy to be destroyed is death. – 1 Cor 15:26

And: The context is talking about the second coming of Christ. He will come, and He will destroy all other powers, and He put all His enemies under His feet, and He will hand the kingdom over to God the Father, but not before that kingdom is complete and all His enemies are defeated.

the: This enemy is a thing, a physical and spiritual reality. A thing that has being and can be unmade. God who is the maker of all things has the power to unmake them. That which is, can be made to not be.

last: There are other enemies before this one that Christ will subjugate. His victory will be total. When He has lined them all up and knocked them all down, when He has finally broken the sinners inside His saints, when He has crushed the unrepentant rebels, captured and bound the demons, crushed the serpent under His foot, and laid waste to hell there will be one thing left to do. He will not leave it undone.

enemy: He has enemies. There are abstract enemies: the curse on creation, the inexorable march of entropy. There are personal enemies: people who have nursed their rebel hearts into open violence against God and His people. Satan and his followers are beings who actively (but futilely) work against the designs of God. There are intimate enemies: My body is a rebel against God’s order as it fails to function as He designed. Even my natural thoughts and desires are His enemies.

to be: This will be done. We have assurance by two things that cannot change, that God has the power to do all He says and that what He says, He will do.

destroyed: Utterly. No mercy, no quarter. In the end death itself will be ended. There will be no remnant of His enemies because all His chosen will be utterly His. The kingdom will be complete and everything outside will be destroyed.

is death: Death infects the world. All is trending toward destruction. It is the fundamental law of the universe. Death rules over mankind. Violence is everywhere. Death rules in my heart. I try to straighten out what sin has bent and it is imperfect at best. Who will deliver me?

We are not brave and stoic soldiers who are making a last desperate stand. We are not terrified into despair and hiding. We are not alone in the void.

We are assured of victory. As we follow Christ we will watch as He cuts down His enemies one by one. At the last the only thing in His way will be death itself and it too will be unable to stand before the one who has overcome the world. Take heart! Oh Victory in Jesus! I can’t wait for Him to give me a new heart! A new body! And for His reign to never end!

I reviewed where the girls are at for school this year. In most subjects, they’re about 1/3 of the way through, which is nice, but I don’t like to draw school out quite as long into the spring as traditional school, so I had hoped we were further along than that. I went through each of the girls’ school subjects one by one to see how far along they were and considered each of the subjects to decide how important they were.

*Daniel is standing and leaning on the back of the recliner in my bedroom…. rocking, rocking, rocking and the two younger girls have started school in the bed behind me.*

Anyway, I cut a few subjects that had become stressful instead of instructive and beefed up on subjects that have been great, but which need more attention in order to finish. I love the freedom to adjust and shift as needed… as I decide. Washington state’s homeschool laws are wonderful for giving me the freedom to instruct my children as they need, rather than based upon a standardized rulebook. (There are guidelines and rules, but they are not constrictive!)

*This blog is just me trying to type as I think. I’m afraid I don’t have a cohesive thought I’m trying to communicate today. Simply exercising the discipline of writing until I have my footing here at the blog again.*

Jordan is practicing ABA therapy five days a week at home for 3 hours a day. He’s learning some constructive communication, for which I am so incredibly grateful. It’s hard to have a stranger in my house so much of the time, but it’s gone just about as well as it possibly could. Hmm. I want to articulate a struggle that most people wouldn’t be aware of for this situation. To appreciate the struggle, you must first be aware of a flaw in modern Child Protective Services. CPS caseworkers who receive a call that needs to be investigated arrive at a home with two things that are very problematic: They arrive with the assumption of guilt and they arrive with power to remove children from their parents without any due process.

That’s terrifying. CPS is staffed by regular people. Who don’t always make the right decision.

Anyway – the unexpected burden of parenting children with special needs and accepting regular therapies in our private home – is the fear that CPS will be called on us by the therapists. It’s happened to us before once and all special needs parents are aware that it happens FAR more often for people of our type than to families who don’t experience special needs. There is a constant battle to maintain personal self confidence and maintain the dignity of regular, sometimes messy human existence when anything could be used against us.
Jordan wears pajamas 24/7. Will that makes somebody think that he’s less loved, less provided for, in trouble? (He wears PJs to maintain his dignity and our property’s integrity… it prevents him from stripping and having potty accidents all over.)
We have five children and three dogs… there is always dirt and hair and clutter in some percentage of our home. Will they consider that unsanitary?
We are not a zero-spanking home. Our children’s safety and emotional well-being is very important to us. We have gone to the ends of the earth to redeem and protect our children. But if we ever employ corporal punishment in the presence of a therapist, will they report us for abuse?
The list goes on. We hope that the professionals we work with will see us with respect. We hope that they (and you) will think carefully before using a broken system like CPS to check on safety and well-being concerns.

*Wow, that got heavy fast.*

Friendship is precious. Protect it.

Marriage is a treasure. Nurture it.

Fatigue is my companion. Umm…. pray for rest?

I like to knit. I want to create leather bracelets, but I’m struggling to have brain-space to apply myself creatively.

Can a person develop sensory processing disorder? Can a person become more impacted by autism… or “become” autistic? These are things I wonder about myself!

Why don’t girls get diagnosed with autism as easily as boys?

I hate gaslighting.

I love honesty.

So long for now!

‘Twas a (nearing) dark and (two days before a) stormy night and I had just braved the pre-storm grocery store and went to a nice trail for a walk. When I came back, my window was broken, my purse gone, and my credit card used. Boo.

Hello!

It’s been a long time since I’ve blogged with any sort of familiarity or “presence” here at our blog. You know, we’ve had this website since before we got married… 2004? I’ve missed having a place to think through current events, my Mom has missed having a reliable place to see my latest updates since exiting Facebook, and I want to have my growth and my family’s growth reflected here for my children to look at when they are grown and starting out on their own themselves. Besides, when I want to get on a soapbox, this is my own personal soapbox space! Why would I ever leave it? haha

I’m in a cheerful mood this afternoon. That’s always a nice place to be. My mood is variable and just as often unrelated to life circumstances as it is because of life circumstances. The fate of many women, I think. I never, until I was about 30 years old, experienced significant depression or anxiety or melancholy or irritability or significant fatigue or any level of PTSD. Now, though, as a 36 year old woman with five children and a life consumed by special needs and real life challenges…. well, they are my close companions. I am trying to live with sorrow and suffering as companions instead of enemies (drawing from one of my favorite books, an allegorical book called “Hinds Feet on High Places” by Hannah Hurnard), but I am regularly overcome by circumstances instead of triumphant.

So! It’s January of 2020. We went to an Oregon beach house as a family for four nights and made many memories… some joyful and some difficult. We had hoped that our two boys would love their time there, but between their history of trauma and subsequent fear levels combined with their autism… well… it was a disaster for them and it took exhaustive measures on the part of me and Brian to keep them safe until we could bring them home to recover. The girls had a blast, I think. On the last night, I sat in the hot tub with my daughters… warm and comfortable with the 50 degree wet beach air around our heads. And I gave permission to my girls to run and jump in the ocean and run back. The crazy children did that THREE TIMES before they were too cold to repeat it. I did not join them.

We’ve had about a month off of schoolwork and I spent today reviewing how it’s been going and setting up for starting school again tomorrow or next Monday. I’m not quite prepared, so we will see when they launch. I have a lot of work to do to prepare for Daniel’s April trip to the hospital back east for more treatment on his feet. I have planned to do that this week. I also have multiple auto repair efforts to make… a transmission going bad (and no great transmission shop I trust to take it to) and a broken window (somebody stole my purse and broke my window!) and Brian’s new car needs a few repairs too. And our floors are disgusting. Having a German Shepherd indoors means hair everywhere all the time… but that doesn’t mean I’m comfortable with it. Jordan has therapy every morning for three hours (at home) mixed in with that, so you know… I will be struggling to feed and clothe myself between all these other things.

That’s all for today. I hope I’m able to come back for more, light-hearted, every-day blogging in the near future. Here are some photos from December and Christmas! Probably some beach photos from January too.

Carolyn’s break:

Maggie’s break:

Me too:

Daniel and his blender and Brian and his coding:

It felt good to rest his weary feet. They’d been roaming up and down the endless hills since sunrise, leading their woolly charges to grass, water, and safety. Now the dusty ground felt luxurious beneath his tired bones. His brother might spend the evening gazing in wonder at the starry sky, but Hassan was a simpler man. A cool drink, the stale bread, and a patch of turf mostly free of stones. These were his comforts. Small sounds of settled animals. The smell of dust, sweat and sheep. This was home. When they went to town, people watched them suspiciously, or turned up their noses. Who needed them? Hassan liked it better out in the hills anyway, though it was lonely.

A crack of thunder made him drop his meal. A jagged line of light split the sky and a roar of sound pressed him down. It was like nothing he’d ever imagined. A high and wild song. Then quiet for moment. His heart was racing and his breath was short. A tremendous loud voice, terrifying, and yet seeming on the edge of laughter, spoke,

“Don’t be afraid! I have good news. God has come to dwell with you. Go and find Him!”

Hassan was simple man with little time for religion. Keeping his sheep alive and his belly filled was his business. But those words and that voice shook something loose in his soul. A longing he’d always had and could never name was suddenly a heartbreaking ache. He was seized with wonder and desire. He jumped to his feet and yelled “Come on! Let’s go!” No longer weary he ran like he had not since he was a young man. Down the long hills, and up again, and down again, his brothers laughing as they followed after. They knew where to go without knowing why.

They fell down in a breathless sweaty heap just outside a stable on the edge of town. They crawled into the dimness on their knees because they were already on the ground, because shepherds don’t mind the dirt. They saw a wonder. They received the light of heaven. It was wrapped in something as mundane and unremarkable as a baby wrapped in rags. A baby born to poor people, people who couldn’t afford anything better than the stable. They didn’t understand it all but they knew what it meant. The Messiah had come and He’d done something miraculous to them.

The message to shepherds, poor carpenters, young girls, wealthy scholars, and to us: “Look! I stand at the door and knock. If you hear my voice and open the door, I will come in, and we will share a meal together as friends.” Emmanuel, God is with us.

Not organized particularly well, but here are many photos from October and November!
Maggie turned 10 and her party was a blast.