Catharine

Today after breakfast, an impromptu road trip with a friend of mine led me to a peaceful old cemetery by the road.  It was beautiful there.  We walked through the rows of old tombstones, some of which were so weather worn they were no longer legible.  Many of the ones we could read dated back to the early 1800's.

There was, at the front of the cemetery,
a row of cedar trees.
A twig laden with the beautiful
evergreen leaves hung down low,
and I pinched it to breath in
the heavy cedar scent.
It was lovely.

Catharine's tombstone behind the cedar tree

Hiding behind one of the massive cedar trees was a tombstone that held some significance for me.
A passerby might not even see it because the tree trunk hid it almost completely, but I knew it was somewhere there, among the cedars.
Then I found it.
It was the tombstone of my great, great, great, great grandmother,  Catharine Richardson.  Apparently the large cedar, which grew in front of her grave, had protected her stone from the weathering others nearby had suffered.  The inscription was still easy to read, and there were even traces of a pretty fern like engraving that wrapped around the words.





Something about seeing the gravesite in person stirred my heart and caused my voice to quiver unexpectedly when I called out to my friend to say, "Here it is!"
The marker stood alone, and told only of her name, her husband, the date of her death, and that she was 47 years of age when she died.  My mind swirled with questions:  What was life like for her?  What hardships did she endure? What were her fears?  Did she ever laugh?  Did her eyes twinkle?  Had a family resemblance been passed down through the generations?   What horrible thing had taken her at only 47 years old?
Sitting by her grave, I sorted through a rush of thoughts.  
My life, my wonderful childhood, my present day family,
all the joys brought to me by my own children, would not have happened if not for Catharine!

Close-up of the fern-like engraving on the tombstone.

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I wished I could thank her and tell her how much I appreciated her part in my family history.  Instead, more than 170 years after her death, overwhelming gratitude compelled me to keep company for a while with her silent tribute there-behind the cedar tree.
It was the least I could do.

©2014janet carol davis

Some Days....

 Most days I wake up with so much on my mind I hit the floor running and don’t stop till my head hits the pillow that night.   I love this crazy busy life full of new adventures, running a business, creating new artwork every day, and meeting incredible people.  Squeeze in the laundry, sweeping, bill writing, and all the mundane house chores-throw in an    urgent visit to the vet when the dog swallows something she shouldn’t, and an impromptu phone call from a good friend and my day is filled from top to bottom.  I’m not complaining.  In fact I wouldn’t have it any other way!  At the end of these busy days I usually feel productive and I like that.

Every once in a while, however, I feel misdirected.  It’s like I’m lost.  I can see the responsibilities I need to conquer right in front of me yet I sense an inability to move forward.  Those days I long to sense God’s presence, and I know it’s because I’ve been so busy with all the “stuff” I have to do, that I’ve neglected to stop and listen to my Heavenly Father’s kind voice of direction and reassurance.

Only when I make time to remember who He is, and who I am in Him, does my life come back into focus. When I go to Him, He reminds me how much He loves me.  His word gives me guidance and strength, and I can face the day refreshed.  He welcomes me into His presence and encourages me in all my endeavors.  He draws me close to Him and reassures me that I am His and He wants what is best for me.  Time with my wonderful Lord and Savior: loving Him, worshiping Him, listening. That’s what I desire and need daily.  That’s what He desires of me.             ©2014Janet Carol Davis 

Psalm 23:1-3

The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing. He makes me lie down in green pastures,
He leads me beside quiet waters, He refreshes my soul. He guides me along the right paths for His name’s sake.


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Comfort From Isaiah

   Today my mind is preoccupied with thoughts of a friend who is grieving the loss of her husband who died just a few days ago.  While her heart is grieving and broken, while her family and friends gather around her over these next several days, her world has temporarily come to a stand still.  Over the last year I've known several who have lost someone dear to them, and a childhood friend of my own died suddenly.  Though as a Christian I certainly take comfort in believing that I will see these people again, no matter what we believe, having to say goodbye to someone we love while we are left here to continue on is never easy.  For me, comfort comes not only in believing that those who love Jesus will live on in His presence after their physical departure from this earth, but also in knowing that I am not alone here.  God promises He will be with us always.  He is with us in our heartache.  In our darkest hours, when grief is fresh-when the newness of a loss is still warm- He is there to hold us and give us hope and strength to move on in this life.  In hopes of bringing the smallest bit of comfort to those of you who are aching, I'm sharing the link below which leads to a song with words from Isaiah that give me great peace when my heart is hurting.                              


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