On the Eve of Another Day One

The first day of school always provides me with a hearty buffet of emotion. I watch with pride as my children advance another step in their lives, but I’m met with the sorrow of knowing that they’ve slipped one more inch from my grasp. Reagan entering 8th grade, David entering 2nd, and little Jonah embarking on his first Tuesday/Thursday “Mother’s Day Out” experience have me reminiscing about this past year, and it felt like the right time to take pause.

Reagan has, in less than 12 months, evolved from a girl to a young woman. Officially taller than me, I’m only saved by my love of 4+ inch heels, and I’m thrilled that she’s still comfortable in her tennis shoes. A beast of an athlete, she spikes a volleyball with more power than I could ever muster. There’s no mistaking she’s her daddy’s girl. She’s becoming more vocal and confident on the court, and this sport of volleyball that she’d never even played until last year, may just become her best sport, yet. Musically, we’ve seen her develop into a serious artist who, thankfully, never takes any of it too seriously. Her songwriting has left us in awe as she puts pen to paper to create things that we could never imagine crafting. From her melodical creativity to her lyrical prowess, we struggle to understand how it comes to her so effortlessly. Just the other day she read something new that she’d written that left my chin on the ground. “When did you write that?” I asked. “At Peter Piper Pizza,” she answered. That’s my girl. While the other kids were playing video games, she was digging deep to write something profound and beautiful. I was also blessed to see Reagan begin to develop quite the servant’s heart this summer as she ventured out on a mission trip to the inner city of Houston. What a blessing to watch God work in her life. I pray she continues to be comfortable in her own skin. I pray she never feels the need to define herself into by the world’s standards. And more than anything, I pray that the Lord directs her steps and that she’s sensitive to His voice.

Davy, sweet Davy … where to begin. He’s simply brilliant, and he exhibits all the complexities you’d expect a brilliant child to display. But his obsessive, competitive personality is beautifully matched with a sensitive, thoughtful spirit that melts our hearts. One moment he’ll be regurgitating word-for-word information from a documentary he’s watched on the Science Channel, and the next he’ll be weepy from looking at pictures of past family trips. I recently created a slideshow of his first seven years, and it’s one of his favorite things. Maybe his exceptional memory brings pictures to life in ways that we don’t understand. Whatever the case, we appreciate these glimpses of his sweet heart. We haven’t pushed him into sports, as he seems to exhibit little interest, preferring his video games … which I personally abhor, but tolerate. He’s a gifted artist, and will spend hours working on a single drawing, paying attention to details that any ordinary seven-year-old would ignore. When he draws faces, they come to life, and all have their own quirky personalities … just like him. I pray that he makes friends this year with kids who understand him. I pray that he continues to be the kid who’s proud to raise his hand and answer all the questions in Sunday School. And I pray that, no matter how much we are forced to discipline him, he feels our unconditional love.

Jonah, my little Jonah. My baby; my last shot; the apple of my eye. The creation of his very life was a last-minute decision. This child we couldn’t afford and for whom we had no room has blessed us and stretched us in ways we never dreamed. Going from a family of four to a family of five is quite the leap. Everything in life seems best-suited for even numbers, but with Jonah, we’ve never been more proud to be, well … odd. He’s a lover. He’s a pleaser. And he’s a talker with a crazy vocabulary for his age. He’s potty trained now, and quite independent with his technique, yet still wants someone present to watch him … I assume for fear of falling in. His current obsession with Thomas the Train is a sight to behold. Unlike his brother Davy’s train obsession at the same age, in which he would meticulously engineer complicated track patterns all over our house, Jonah is perfectly content lining up trains on any elevated surface and crashing them over the edge. He seems to fancy destruction, and hits his head more than any child I’ve ever seen. Always running, always bouncing, and always giggling, we now understand why people say that children will keep you young. But at the end of the day, into our laps he goes to cuddle as we read him a story. Always rocked to sleep, he’s never once been put to bed awake … and as long as it’s in my control, that’s the way it will stay. My prayer for Jonah is that he adjusts to his new Tuesday/Thursday program well. I pray that he continues to fill our home with his beautiful, joyous spirit. And I pray that we always look upon him as the best “irresponsible” decision we ever made … because he is.


Tomorrow’s the day. I’m ready. And I suppose I’ll meet you back here next year with another report.

Apologies for any typos … I’m typing through tears.


Loving Them from Afar … Just Like Jesus Did

I have very clear memories of sitting on the living room floor as a child and playing with my various homemaker-training toys while my very devout mother consumed her daily diet of the 700 Club. I never thought much of it. I enjoyed it, actually. Compelling stories about our great, great God. Cool co-hosts. Remember Ben Kinchlow? Probably my first crush on a black guy. I mean, he’s no Carl Weathers, but to a 6 or 7-year-old he had a certain element of class that appealed to me.

Apollo Creed running on the beach. I’m distracted now.

Back on topic …

Pat Robertson hasn’t always been wheels-off crazy. I’m certain of this. Controversial, sure, but anyone who takes hardline positions is considered to be. A few years ago his commentary became troubling as he prophesied over various tragedies — from Hurricanes hitting Orlando as a consequence of Disney’s “gay day,” to earthquakes killing thousands in Haiti because of the Haitian “pact with the Devil.” These comments aren’t necessarily inconsistent with the teachings in the Bible, but his delivery always seemed insensitive and ill-timed. That was the problem. (Remember all that love stuff Jesus talked about? Yeah, Jesus meant that.)

But, some people simply lack discretion. I get it. And as someone who has needed plenty of grace in this area, I’m more than capable of giving it … and I do.

Unfortunately, Robertson has now moved from the reckless to the blasphemous.

The Bible is clear in James 1:27 that God considers “pure and faultless” religion to be two things, (just two):

  1. Look after orphans and widows in their distress
  2. Keep oneself from becoming polluted by the world.

Two things. Simple. (Well, not simple to do, but simple to understand.)

Segue to recent adoption-related comments made by Robertson in which he said,  “You don’t have to take on somebody else’s problems. You really don’t. You can help people – we minister to orphans all over the world …. but ….”

But? But what?

Never mind. Just watch. There’s no excuse for it, and this man just needs to retire:

Coworker Takes a Stab at Writing My Bio

So, I have to write a bio for my band’s new website. There’s only one thing I hate more than photoshoots, and that’s writing about myself. Is there anything more self-absorbed … more egocentric? It’s not that I don’t feel my life is interesting; I

Technical Wizard Shane Bell

just don’t think it’s really that interesting to anyone else.

I first jotted down a brief, concise paragraph accurately summarizing my background, gifts, and interests, but then I saw the novels presented by my bandmates, and I now fear that my humble little box of words will come across as slacking.

As I struggle for the rest of the day to put something together worth reading, our show’s technical wizard Shane Bell decided to take a stab. Shane and I have been (virtually) alone in the control room, three hours a day, five mornings a week for the past three months. There’s an understandable kinship that develops from such consistent contact, especially since our jobs revolve around facilitating the opinion exchange known as the Mark Davis Show.

He rattled off the first things that came to his mind. I typed feverishly and refused to censor him. I think he was pretty honest, ignoring the occasional raise of my brow.

This was fun … and actually blessed me. If it appears self-congratulatory, I don’t care. I’ve had a rough week and this is as close to a spa day as I’m going to get.

**Readers: if you think I’m should be a candidate for “world’s worst person” and would like to submit your thoughts, feel free to leave a comment. I won’t delete it. Thanks, in advance, for your honesty … jerks.


Well-maintained, but not high-maintenance

Family oriented

Crazy-assed, God-fearing to the max

Striking beauty with fiery allure

Despises Sarah Palin

Afraid of the ocean

Prayerful and pensive


Refreshingly self-deprecating

Quick-witted and funny

Occasional potty mouth

Loves her fossil husband and happy that his junk still works

Effervescently distracting

Peculiar, but special

Native Texan

Specializes in mocking Ron Paul supporters

Seductive, yet conservative

Great mom

Classy, kindhearted, and fair

Doesn’t let a bad hair day get her down

Flexible … not physically, but the other way

Cute shoes. Accessorizes well

Whispers are as effective as her shouts

Brings color to everything she encounters

The Bachmann

Primary season was so much fun. I truly miss it. The debates. The campaign events. The stress. The sleepless nights. The sounds of my children asking, “What’s wrong with mommy?”

One of the things I miss the most is (what our callers lovingly referred to as) “The Bachmann” … periodic short voicemail messages that I’d leave for Mark in the voice of then-candidate Congresswoman Michelle Bachmann.

Despite my love for Rick Santorum, and subsequent support for the Romney candidacy, I truly wish she had won the nomination because there’s just no application for this bit anymore.

People ask me about it occasionally, so I thought I’d put a few of them in one location for consumption.


Bachmann Call #1

Bachmann Call #2 (probably the best)

Bachmann Call #3

Bachmann Call #4