radamdavidson.com

Our 7 year old daughter, Lexi, is quite a girl indeed. She has Down Syndrome. She has West Syndrome. So — what’s she like?
I’ll tell you just a little bit, if that’s ok.
She smiles. She laughs.  She gets upset when you brush her hair.
She eats (like a hungry bear). She drinks whatever ends up in her sippy cup. She hates cheese.
The cheese-hating thing still baffles us.
She communicates (doing sings like more, drink, bye). She doesn’t do much talking yet (besides the occasional da da — and that’s me).
Like everyone with Down Syndrome, she loves likes puts up with most people.
Like everyone with West Syndrome, she’s cognitively delayed. They’ve done quite a bit to intervene early (and often) to help her develop. As a 7 year old, she’s about 1 year old.
Apologize for it? Don’t. Feel bad for us? Much appreciated, but it’s ok. We love Lexi. She loves us.  God has been very, very, very good to us.  His grace keeps us thankful and energized to keep up with her spunk.
Chances are that she’ll give you a hug, but watch out – she might give you a swat, too. She’s in a punchy mood that we’re hoping to help her get past.  That’s the spunk part.  I’m pretty sure she gets it from her mother.  Or maybe me.  I’m not sure.  I’ve already said too much there.

Lexi teaches us about grace and what it means to follow Jesus.  His love and mercy, new every morning, are what keep us going.

Lexi teaches us about other people, especially about compassion for people with disabilities.

Lexi makes us smile and laugh.  This is especially handy on rough days.

She’ll give you a hug, but might follow it up with a spunky little swat.  That’s just her way.

I have noticed that our kids tend to run through the house. If we tell Malachi to brush his teeth, he runs to the toothbrush. Zac bolts to the kitchen to get a sippy cup. Lexi slams the others to the ground and darts toward Nana when she visits. They’re quick footed and task oriented, not having given up the fight against gravity. I love that.

By comparison, I do a lot more steady walking and even ambling through the house. I like to meander, percolate, and even stroll. Part of this has to do with my relative mass compared to the rather narrow corridors of our home. Oh, I can run. A couple of miles, even. But I’ve been jabbed by too many a pointy cornered furniture to do that when the doorbell rings.

Jesus said “let the little children come to me and do not hinder them.” I imagine that children ran to Jesus. They would bolt, dart, and even slam. They knew too little (didn’t care) but knew enough to run to Him. In thinking about this, I realized that I do more meandering to Jesus than I do running. I’d rather run. “Oh, to be a kid again!” Indeed. Starting now. I want to run to Jesus like nothing else matters, as if that very moment is dedicated to the purpose of getting to Him.

“For it was indeed fitting that we should have such a high priest, holy, innocent, unstained, separated from sinners, and exalted…”Heb7:26

I love the book of Hebrews, in part because it validates the rituals of the Old Testament without making it sound like that’s the stuff we’re still supposed to do. We don’t sacrifice animals anymore. Priests don’t make an offering for their own sin before making one for you and me. Jesus is the Great High Priest who has offered once and for all the final Final FINAL sacrifice. The Mercy Seat is now Jesus. The blood, the body, the sacrifice — is now Jesus. The Old Testament gave us foundation and foreshadow; the New Testament is Jesus fulfilling these requirements.

In this way, Jesus is separated from sinners. He goes to a place that we cannot because He is something that we’re not: holy, innocent, unstained. Jesus is with us, yes, but He maintains His separateness. He is fully man, but, at the same time, fully God. It couldn’t work any other way.

I say all that to say this: remember that Jesus isn’t with you. We remind each other — and rightly so — that Jesus is with us. Indeed (praise God) He is. But from a sacrificial and priestly angle, Jesus is most certainly not with us, for which we must be eternally grateful.

(like the energizer bunny)

I was at my local Pharmacy to pick up a few pharmaceuticals that I cannot mention due to HIPPA.  On the way out, I saw the same thing I see every year around this time.  Center aisle.  Clear as day.  50% off.  Cheap, foil wrapped chocolate eggs.  Pastel colored M&M’s.  And, worst of all, those terrible Cadbury Creme Eggs, chock full of science’s best attempt at breakfast ornithology.  It’s an Easter clearance sale, and everything must go.  It’s time for the pre-pre Valentines sale.

Oh, I get it.  But it tells us something about the regular calendar vs. the church year calendar: they only align on special days.  Take, for example, Easter.  This year, Easter fell on April 8.  Next year, Easter will fall on March 31.  Just about every calendar will at least give honorable mention to this Christian holy day.  Christians will know it as Resurrection Sunday.  We all align on that specific day.  Your more conservative calendars will mention Good Friday, Ash Wednesday, and even Palm Sunday.  If they mention Maundy Thursday, you’ve most certainly picked up the Kirk Cameron 12 months of Growing Pains Reunion calendar.

What I’m trying to say is that regular calendars — the schedule that a majority of normal people run on — do not mention the season of Easter.  More than a single day, Easter is to be celebrated for a bunch of days that lead into Pentecost (May 29).  The Church has the latitude and design, according to the lectionary cycle, to celebrate Easter for weeks and weeks.  Why devote such time to a bunny?  Because we know it’s not a bunny; it’s the resurrection of Jesus, marking His victory over sin and death, and inviting us to die to ourselves and live for Him, in His victory.  It’s a pretty big deal!

So… Easter candy is half off.  It’s a good deal.  Don’t be surprised that stores are moving on.  You can’t really blame them for it.  But you, follower of Jesus, have reason to keep celebrating!  Christ is risen!  Keep the party going as we get ready for the Spirit to blow the doors off the place on Pentecost Sunday!

I’ll leave it said best by quoting theologian and worship guru Dr. Robert Webber:

The primary metaphor for the Easter season is the church as the resurrected people living a resurrected spirituality. Because of Easter we are in union with Christ and are called to live in our baptismal identity in his resurrection. This essential theme of Easter cannot be communicated in a day. It takes a season. . . . It is in worship that resurrection spirituality is learned and experienced. [1]

—————-

[1] Robert E. Webber, Ancient-Future Time: Forming Spirituality through the Christian Year (Grand Rapids: Baker Books, 2004), 148-151.

DayQuil is for Day time.

NyQuil is for Ny time.

Never shall the two be confused.  Take DayQuil at night?  You’re wide awake enough to watch infomercials and sleep deprived enough to give the operator your credit card information.  Take NyQuil at day?  You’re sleepy enough to ask crazy questions and alert enough to realize that you just proposed to the mailbox.

Emily pulled me aside and asked me which Quil she should take.  It was 6:37pm.  I, too, was baffled. I suggested a little bit of each. She went with the Day version.  So far, nothing emblazoned with “As Seen on TV” has arrived at our house.

As a very tall three year old, Zac was more than ready to graduate from his infant crib to something a little more roomy and a little less prisony.  Cribs are great because they keep children enclosed and safe, not to mention the peace of mind that comes with knowing your child is safely incarcerated.  However, the day that Zac learned how to climb out of his crib meant that he was ready for minimum security.

One dusty corner of our garage has been home to a big white frame with a bunch of bolts taped to one of the rails.  Emily’s Dad took that monstrosity and made it into a toddler bed.  Finding only 83% of the parts meant that a little side rail of the bed would need to be “saved for later”.  I figured that Zac was beyond rails.

I figured wrong. We woke up to the KLUNK at 3:30 this morning.  Shoulda put that side rail on.  Zac become so accustomed to having those boundaries that he assumed — naturally — that he could roll over as fiercely as he wanted.  Not anymore.  You’re a big boy now.  What a memorable life lesson.  Perhaps you remember a time where you fell out of a bed.  Maybe you hit your head so hard that you don’t remember.  Either way, it’s all part of the experience of growing up.

Zac took it well.  I picked him up off of the floor (it was an 11 inch fall) and gave him a big hug.  “You fell out of your bed, buddy — are you ok?”

“I’m fine, Daddy.  Put me back in my big boy bed.”

I’m glad he didn’t ask for his crib.  It’s pretty much gone.

It’s true.  We’re moving to Portage.  And I’m emotionally confused.  So excited.  So sad.  So excited.  So sad.  Etc.  Let the raw blogging begin:

On one hand, we get to go on an amazing adventure in ministry.  We get to meet new people in a new area, get our kids into new schools, move into a new house, and learn where all the cool stuff is that gives a community its own thumbprint.  I finally get to do something that I’ve felt called to do for years.  I get to serve at a truly wonderful church.

On the other hand, we have to say goodbye to a place that has been home for nearly 6 years.  We have to leave our friends, disconnect from our community, and move away from what we know.  I haven’t tried it, but I bet I could drive from church to home with my eyes closed.

On the third hand, I have to remember that there are only two hands.

Is it a celebration?  Yes, but it’s tainted by the grief of saying goodbye.  So… is this transition not what we want?  On the contrary!  This is exactly what we hoped would happen.  Is it easy?  No.  Do we want to leave our friends?  Not in the slightest.  Will we make new friends?  Absolutely!  Will they be better than our old friends?  No!  They’ll be different, not better.  Except for my friend who smells like Doritos.  You know who you are.

Is it God’s will?  Yes.  It’s God’s will that we trust Him, and it’s God’s will that I am in ministry.  It’s God’s will that I glorify Him with my life, and it’s God’s will that we step forward in obedience. Does this help?  Yes.  Quite a bit.  The fact of God’s call on my life brings balance to the emotional roller coaster of being excited and sad, excited and sad, excited and sad.  What’s True?  God’s Word.  God’s call on my life.  Truth is powerful.

On Friday, June 1, Bishop Kendall will read the appointments.  I will be newly appointed to the Portage Free Methodist Church as lead pastor.  This will be read aloud in the room that I’ve known and have served in for nearly 6 years.  The Bishop will be illuminated with lights that I helped put in, standing on a platform that I helped build.  Do I feel connected to this place?  More than I realized.  All of these projects represent connections with people.  People that I will miss dearly.

What’s next?  More relationships.  More connections.  More lives being changed by the Gospel.  While we will live an hour away, we will certainly not lose connections with our friends here, thanks in part to the good people at Facebook, Skype, and, to a lesser extent, MySpace.  What is God up to in Portage?  I’m not sure, but I get to be a part of it.  We get to serve Him in a mysterious place.  It won’t be mysterious for long.  H is for Hot and C is for Cold.  Red light means stop.  Green light means go.  And Portage means “the act of carrying a boat overland from one body of water to another.”  A friend reminded me of that.  I can’t wait for a new friend to tell me what “Kalamazoo” means.

Plus, it’s not like I’ll never be in Spring Arbor (which means “watery tree”).  I’ll be back for Annual Conference, Pastor’s Prayer Days, and to get yelled at by the Superintendent.  Of course I kid!  Actually, Pastor’s Prayer Days are held at various churches around the conference, not necessarily in Spring Arbor!

God’s call is real.  I’ll write more about how He brought me to this place in future posts.  Right now, it all pours out after being saved up for months.  This is part of the process.

Like millions of bloggers before me, I would like to offer my “I’m back” post.  In this post, you’ll find…

• an apology for not posting lately
• a sentence like “I’ve been SUPER busy!!!”
• a promise that my busyness will lead to forthcoming excellent posts (reparation clause)
• a brief but poignant closing line that summarizes how important blogging is, which will get you to check it regularly again
• a 4 month silence before migrating to typepad

You know what?  Let’s not go through the trouble.  I’ll just say that I’m sorry, and that I’ve been SUPER busy, but that I’ve got a LOT to say, so I hope you’ll read it, and that I’ve been reminded by the new years resolution list that fell out of my winter coat (it’s snowing today) that I will write every day.

See you in August!

Apple Computer: Adam, thank you so much for taking the time to talk with us today.
Adam Davidson: You’re welcome.
AC: Tell us about your history with Apple Computer.
AD: Glad to. I was a first adopter. I was an Apple guy back in the days of Windows 3.1 and 95. I believed in Macintosh computers back when I was part of the 10%. I even remember sitting in front of an Apple IIe and playing Oregon Trail.
AC: Ha! That game is so old!
AD: Well… then so am I!
AD & AC: (shared uncomfortable laughter).
AC: Well, you’re obviously a fan. What are your hopes and dreams for these post-Steve days at Apple?
AD: Just keep doing what you’re doing and things should go fine.
AC: Really? There’s nothing that could be improved?
AD: Well… there is the issue with iCloud and iCal sync. I’ve been pretty disappointed with that.
AC: Thanks so much for your time!
AD: I mean… it seems like it should just work. Every time I look at migrating over to iCal, something makes it seem like a bad idea. I even tried again today and came across this helpful bit of info that, more or less, made me go back to a hand-written calendar again.
AC: Hm. You’re right. It seems like it should just work.
AD: Thank you.
AC: Sorry for your troubles. Would you like a complimentary copy of Oregon Trail?
AD: That sounds fun, but what I’d really like is for iCal to reliably sync between my devices.
AC: (uncomfortable silence).  Would you like that in 5 1/4″ floppy?

Radio’s Ben Barnes brought point five dozen Paczki to the home.fm studio this morning, in honor of Phat/Fat/Shrove Tuesday.  Wal-Mart, Meijer, and even Hinkley Bakery are moving these strangely named pastries to prepare us for Lent, at least that’s the back story.  During the season of Lent, we prepare for Easter.  Many people will give up something — pop, candy, coffee, goo-filled donuts — as a means of spiritual discipline.  As I ate this Bavarian treat, getting white powder on my outerparts, I wondered what I would abstain from during Lent.  Cutting back is one thing; cutting back for spiritual discipline is another.  My deep desire is to encounter God and be part of His story, to better understand His atonement, and to be transformed for His glory (2 Cor 3:18).  How does not eating something help facilitate this kind of change?  You don’t know how important something is until it’s suddenly out of the mix.  As the lyric suggests:

don’t it always seem to go… that you don’t know what you’ve got ’till it’s gone.  They paved paradise and put up a parking lot.

Epilogue:
What’s the deal with raspberry filled Paczki’s?  I’ll take the Bavarian filling every time.