Hi. I’m R. Adam Davidson. Thank you for coming to this place. Join me for a moment:
First off, let me say that I don’t think that this blog is rad(ical). These are just my initials: r adam davidson: rad. For better or worse, these are my letters, this is my blog, and I’m just happy to be here.
Emily and I have 3 kids. Our home is in beautiful Southwest Michigan, which also happens to be the home of Portage Free Methodist Church, which happens to have me as Lead Pastor. By the way, we are in the process (Summer 2018) of changing our name to Renovation Church. This name reflects the ongoing spiritual formation that every person is undergoing from day to day and best describes our mission to help people find, follow, and be like Jesus. We are thankful for our ongoing Free Methodist connection and calling to reach Southwest Michigan and beyond.
I also have the privilege of speaking at camps, conferences, workshops, and the like. I teach college classes in Communication, Leadership, and Worship Arts. Portage is our home, yet I am blessed to be able to serve and minister in a variety of places as the need arises.
Before moving to Portage, we lived in Spring Arbor, where I served as the Worship Pastor at Spring Arbor Free Methodist Church.
While in Spring Arbor, I had the privilege of waking up early for 5 years so that I could, with bleary eyes, host Mornings at Home on the Home.FM radio network. Upon hearing me speak, people around town — like, say, at Meijer, for example — would say “Are you Ben?”, since that was (and is) the other guy’s name. I would then shoplift and say “yes”.
I also taught some classes on the campus of Spring Arbor University until they found out about the shoplifting thing.
By the way, the shoplifting thing is a joke — just one example of what some might call “morning show humor.” If you heard a laugh track and a broiiiiiing sound, you’d know.
Before that, we lived near Toledo, OH, where I served as Worship Pastor at CrossRoads Community Church in Ottawa Lake, MI.
Before that, Emily and I were students at Spring Arbor University.
And before thaaat, I was a High School student living and working in Metro Detroit. Yep. I’m one of those people who love Detroit. Her dysfunctions and hollowed out places are strangely endearing to me. I guess you had to live there to feel this way.
I’m interested in: Jeeps, coffee, books, music, keyboards, vintage Mac computers, boomboxes from the 70’s, 80’s, 90’s, commentaries, rhetoric, creative nonfiction, organizational development, broadcasting, podcasting, radcasting, bacon, electrical work, cooking cheap steak in a way that makes it taste expensive, keys, writing, lifting weights, feeling guilty for not lifting weights, and the ongoing debate about what is real.
At my core, I desire to be like Jesus. I’m not always very good at it, but it’s my aim nonetheless. My wife and children need me to be the best husband and dad I can be. Jesus makes this possible through His life, death, and resurrection. He died, He was buried, He came back to life, He ascended, He is renewing the world, (*) He will return. This point in human history (*) is where we’re currently living. How to be saved? How to be made new? How to spend eternity with God? Jesus is the way. That’s who I’m following.
Mine is a… unique family.
Emily and I were married on a warm August afternoon in Fowlerville, MI. To this day, I still can’t believe she went through with it. She is the essence of beautiful perfection, at least as far as I’m concerned.
Not only is she a wonderful wife; she’s also an awesome mom to our three children. We have a unique situation in that our daughter has Down Syndrome and is also on the Autism spectrum. This has provided many challenges and even more opportunities for joy. I must tell you — as a dad with a special-needs kid, it has taken me many years to see life as ok. She’s our beautiful daughter, a great kid who will do great things, along with her brothers. I love being a husband and dad and am very thankful for the people who live in my house with me, even though we can’t pinpoint who left the ice cream out overnight. Turns out it might’ve been me.