A New Day, He is good, Miracles

James Davis

I sat there. I sat there and I held him. After almost five months of waiting. No, after almost five years of waiting. I sat and I held him. I looked at his mama. I saw the light in her eye. I saw the smile on her face. After almost five years of waiting. After so many more than that, he was here. Words cannot express the power of that moment. I sat there and I held him. This child who may never know how many tears were cried for him. How many prayers. This child. For this child she had prayed. For this child they had prayed. For this child we had prayed.

He is a miracle. And yet the casualty of that phrase does not give justice to what he is. He is power reached down. The hand of God moving. Supernatural found in the natural. He is a miracle.

Born three months early at one pound, fifteen ounces. I had never seen a baby that small. Skin so translucent it looked more like thin plastic than skin. Skin so thin we were told to compress him, rather than stroke him. And yet, even three months early, He was still so intricate, so detailed, so perfect. James Davis. The miracle child. The miracle man child. A child brought out of so much trial, so much difficulty. A child brought into so much joy. Consider it all joy, when you encounter various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance. And let endurance have its perfect work, so that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing. Consider it all joy.

Consider it all joy, James. All of it. Every struggle. Every cry. Every moment of confusion. I look at your sweet little face. That perfect little face struggling with emotions and ideas, trying to make sense in such a big, big world. I see you form O’s with your mouth, I see you want to cry because of the discomfort of growing. I see you look with eyes so big they could soak up experience like a sponge. I see you look, and I wonder, what do you see? And what will you do with what you see? I see you reach out, with tiny hands and tiny fingers. I see you grab above you and sometimes you come back empty handed. But I see other times as you reach and you reach big, and those hands, even so small, come back with something. And your legs move and your face brightens and I know you know. You know that the testing of your faith produces endurance. And so you endure. And so you grow. And there are days when it seems hard. And there are days when it seems long. And there are days when we must choose to know that the testing of our faith produces endurance. But we will endure. You will endure, sweet baby James. and that endurance will have its perfect work. And as I watch you grow, and watch how beautiful you are, I think, how could something that seems so perfect become any better? But you will. You will grow. You will strengthen. And days will slow into nights. Sunrises will set into dusk. And dusk will grow into dark. And dark will transform to light  and all will continue again and again and again. Until we see you bigger, stronger, wiser. And one day you will reach again. But this time, you will reach with not so tiny hands. And perhaps there will be times when you come back empty handed. But, sweet James, there will be other times. Times when those not so tiny hands will come back with something. And your legs will move and your face will brighten and I know you will know. You will know that the testing of your faith produced endurance. And so you endured. And so you grew. So that the testing of your faith will have its perfect work. And you will be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing. So consider it all joy, James.

Consider it all joy.  

James 1:2-4

He is good, Holy Moments

Where My Soul is Certain

Its snowing again. I think we’ve had snow for 10 days straight. That’s an oddity for us southerners. But I don’t mind it. I know several who are annoyed. I know several who don’t like it. But for me, snow is always a reminder. It’s never a snow day. It’s always a grace day. And so as I look out the window to white stuff making my window look more and more like a snow globe, I write.

Audrey Assad sings of how He came into this world like snow. She sings of how He came soft. How He came quiet. How He came slow. And as I watch the snow fall it is just that: soft, quiet, slow. It is easy. It falls so easy. Laying down without a hint of sound. It falls and relaxes onto the earth, or maybe the earth relaxes to the snow. It falls piece by piece and moment by moment and as it does it ushers in peace. Peace by Peace, moment by moment. And suddenly it is here and suddenly it is everywhere. Piece by piece. Moment by moment. And there is peace. Peace is here. Peace is everywhere. And I remember.

I remember Job’s friend, Elihu. It was probably the only wise thing he said. He reminded his friend of the power of our God. Of our great God. He reminded Job of how the God of everything says to the snow, Fall on the earth. And then it falls. For He says to the snow, “Fall on the earth; likewise to the gentle rain and the heavy rain of His strength.

I love this verse. I love how it reminds me with each falling snowflake of His strength. I love how I can watch the snow fall without a sound and peace covers my soul. I love how my neighborhood becomes white and suddenly I am certain. Certain of my God. Certain that He is able. Certain that I am not without, because I am with Him. That is where the peace comes from. It isn’t from the method of the snow. Its pattern and rhythm. It isn’t from its quiet that seems to overtake and silence all around. It is from the certainty of Him. He is constant. He is strong. He is unchanging and sovereign. He said to the snow fall on the earth. He says fall, and it falls. Likewise to the gentle rain and the heavy rain of His strength. He says fall and it falls. Even the winds and storms obey. And with that there is peace.  Because as He says fall, His strength is revealed. And as His strength is revealed, my soul is certain.

With each graceful snowflake another place of life is covered. Another angst. Another fear. Another worry.

And as His strength is revealed, my soul is certain.

Job 37:6

Dear Love, He is good, Holy Moments, The Plans He Has for You

Good is Good


But as for you, you thought evil against me; but God meant it for good, to bring to pass,

as it is this day, to save many people alive. 

Genesis 50:20

I have a restless heart. I have a mind full of questions and a mouth full of empty words. I have a planner full of things to do. And a body unable to do any of it.


I have a thought.


What they meant for harm, He meant for good. This verse swirls in my mind. I wake up with it. I lay down with it. I walk with it. It never leaves. What you mean for harm, He means for good. But what is good? I go back to The Book, haunted by this meaning. Haunted by this word. Seeking answers. Seeking truth. Seeking anything that is not this throbbing pain of physical hurt. Or is it emotional? It all blurs together these days.


Good is   טוֹב


That is Towb. That is good. Good is good, in the widest sense. Does that mean free? Because I see free. I see a little girl running free in the widest sense. And each way she runs, it is good, and it is open, and beautiful. But it goes on, good in the widest sense. Good in the masculine. Good in the feminine. Good in the singular. Good in the plural. I wonder, are we still talking grammar? Or are we talking something more?

Good is Towb. Good is beautiful, best, better, bountiful. Good is cheerful. I am not cheerful. How can this be cheerful. There is no cheer in this pain. God meant this to be cheerful? Good is at ease. I am not at ease. This is not at ease. This is not easy. How can I be at ease. What they meant for harm He meant for ease…

Good is Towb. Good is to be in favor. I am in His favor. I am in his favor, therefore I am His favorite. You are His favorite. You are in His favor. We are in His favor. We are His favorite. Good is favor. Good is fine, glad, graciously joyful, kindly best, kindness, loving, merry, most. But this is not fine. And I am not glad, and I am not graciously joyful. I am not even ungraciously joyful. And how is this even kindly my best. And there is no kindness in me. This feels wrong. I am not merry. But this is much.

Good is Towb. Good is pleasure. Good is pleased. Good is precious, prosperity. This is precious? This pain is precious? No. But this life experience is. Even now I know that. I wish it wasn’t. But sitting in the shadows of dusk even here I see. I see a testimony that only life can purchase. And if this is precious, then can this be prosperity. Can I be experiencing prosperity through pain? It is the ultimate oxymoron. Prosperity purchased through pain? Yes. The ultimate oxymoron, yet the ultimate truth. It is the story of Golgotha. It is our gospel.

Good is Towb . Good is ready, sweet. Like summer days. And now all I see is warmth. Wrapped around and through me like hot summer sun rays. And there is that little girl again, but she is not running around. Instead with arms wrapped around herself she is soaking in the sun. She is smiling, face pointed towards to the sky. She is ready. She is sweet. And that is good.  Good is wealth. Good is welfare. Good is to be well.


to be well… to be made well?


Can this be made well? Can I be made well? Can Danny Helms be made well? He said it a year ago. I say it now. This story is bigger than just you and me. Its bigger than them. Those. Those who meant harm. This story is big because it is not meant for me. Its not meant for you. It was made for Him. Him. He who meant for good. He who is good. He says nothing, and yet in His silence He says everything. They say evil to me. But He says good. He says Towb. He says good in the widest sense. He says it to the masculine, to the feminine, to the singular, to the plural. He says beautiful, better, best, bountiful. He says cheerful when He says be of good cheer. He says be at ease when He says Peace, be still. Be at ease. He says favor for we are the apple of His eye. Fine, glad, He says glad, and I am glad, For He makes me glad by His deeds. I sing for joy for what His hands have done. He says good, kindly joyful, kindness, loving. He says loving kindness. He says I have loved you with an everlasting love. I have drawn you with lovingkindness. He says merry, most, pleasant, pleasure, precious. He says precious, Since you are precious in My sight, since you are honored and I love you. He loves me. He loves you. He says ready, sweet, wealth, well. He says to be well. Your faith has made you well. Or has my faith made me good? Has this pain, this pain they meant for harm, this pain He meant for good, in the widest sense, has it made me good? Has it made me well?

They say harm. But He says good. And with this good, this good that feels wrong right now, that brings pain in the evening but will bring joy in the morning. And I will wait all my days to hear it. I will wait all my life to hear Him say good over my life. They say harm. But He says good. And with this good, this good that comes in so many words, this good that seems hazy now, this good that hurts sometimes, He says all He needs to say. All He wants to say. With this good He says, “I love you.”


Towb: from Strongs Exhaustive Concordance.

He is good

He Brought Grace Through a Snowstorm

For He says to the snow, “Fall on the earth”; likewise to the gentle rain and the heavy rain of His strength. 

Job 37.6, NKJV

It is snowing again. And while I know many of my friends are already over the snow and the cold, it will never grow old to me. Especially this year. Because this year the snow has become a reminder to me. A reminder of a promise. For He says to the snow, “fall on the earth”; likewise to the gentle rain and the heavy rain of His strength. I love that phrase, the heavy rain of His strength. The heavy reign of His strength. I can’t help but think it. I am so grateful for it. His ability to reign over everything. I love that He is powerful. There is comfort in His power. Even when situations defy all human logic, when there are options I would rather not have to choose between, there is still comfort. The fact that with simple words He commands the weather, and all else around Him. I told you earlier in the week, and I will tell you again, this week was difficult. And I struggled to get through it, and then on Wednesday night, when I thought I wasn’t going to make it one more day, He said to the snow, fall on the earth, and with it grace fell. Big, fluffy, wet clumps of grace, all over this life of mine. God brought grace through a snowstorm. And as eager as a child, watching the snowfall as it blanketed the back yard and all the places where we do life, I too sat and watched. I watched as grace, disguised as snow, fell and covered over all the places where I do life. And like the snow it fell large and soft, with no one place untouched. And this snowfall…this gracefall… brought with it a quiet peace that was meant for more than just scenery, it was meant to be enjoyed.

My classes were cancelled. My tests were pushed back. And for one day, I was given, well, grace. Grace to play in, grace to be enjoyed, grace to watch through the window while sipping hot chocolate from big, hand thrown mugs. And it was entirely unexpected, and yet entirely what I needed. He knew I needed that day. My snow day. My grace day. I am so thankful for it. For Him. For His love and tenderness to intervene even through the weather. And I can’t help but think how many others needed that snow day. That grace day. And I wonder how it touched them, and how it changed them. And I think towards coming days, and how there will be more grace days. Because He knows. He always knows the condition of our hearts. Our need for those days. So grace days will come. They will be disguised as many things but they will come. With four simple words, they will come.

Fall to the earth.

And they will fall.