What are you even doing with your life?!?!

Breathe Deep.

Sometimes my thoughts suffocate me.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

Ready? Okay. Let's do this.

I want to share my story and I want to know other people's as well. I feel deep in my heart that sharing stories, the real, ugly, broken ones, can be a powerful thing. because in sharing our stories, we must first accept them. We must own them. We must stop running from them or pushing them into the corner when company comes over. To share our story is to admit that we've been changed, that there has been growth, surrender, grace, forgiveness. That life may have knocked us down, but we continue to stand back up and fight. We tell our stories. We breathe our stories. We live our stories.

Especially in this moment when it feels like my story has reached a never ending ellipsis. I feel I need to take a step back, scribble on the pages, and reflect on what the Lord is teaching me in this hectic, long, and somewhat rough season.

And it feels like I'm trapped between two souls. One that really wants to stay and the other that just needs to go. to see, to be, to just run and feel wild and free. And I wish I could just split myself in two, and satisfy each half. But it's not entirely possible and I feel it would be highly problematic. For one part of me would forever live in the past and the other part would forever live in the future, and none of me would ever be present.

But really I'm just tired of people's mouths shaped like question marks and eyes wandering my face for answers. "What are you going to do with your life?" "You're almost 26."
yeah, I know that.

"You hardly have any friends."
yeah, I know that too.
"You're not in a relationship."
Yeah, I know that too.
"You've got so much to do."
Yeah, I know that too.

And then there's the other half. "You don't have to know what you're going to do with your life." "You're only going to be 26."
Yeah, I know that.

"You'll make friends eventually."
yeah, I know that too.
"You don't HAVE to be in a relationship."
Yeah, I know that too.
"You've plenty of time to do whatever you need to do."
Yeah, I know that too.

maybe the problem with me is that I think I know too much about things I know nothing about. That the things I should be handing over to God, I'm either handing over to people or clutching in tight fists. but I'm just tired and angry. tired of making plans, angry about trying to map my life out for the next thirty years. And I'm tired of other people trying to map out my life for me. tired of people telling me where I should live, what kind of job i should have, who i should date, how i should feel. I'm tired of people trying to make plans out of me. tired of making plans out of myself.

Isn't tomorrow promised to no man? I mean I'm not saying to not have plans, I'm just saying maybe i shouldn't be so mad when they don't work out. And maybe I should stop living just for the future, while I glance furtively into the past. and instead live for the day, for the moments I can usher in. for the breath in my lungs and the beats of my heart.

For the magnificence that is Christ working in my life.

I read once that "change is not for the faint of heart." yet I would also add that waiting and living falls under that category. like real, passionate living. Those things are not for the faint of heart as well.
It's the hearts that are tender under the storms choppy waves of almost but not quite yet. It's the hearts that are broken under the crushing weight of almost but never good enough. The hearts bruised, tattered, and worn from the constant prodding of fingers and hands that grab and pull in every direction of almost but hold on, wait a little longer, move a little faster, you're not getting any younger.

Almost, a word that could cause a natural disaster.

At times I feel like my life is compiled of almosts.

And I've been reading through the Old Testament and it deeply saddens me how much I tend to echo Israel's path of constant betrayal of God, complaining to God, and tantrum throwing when He leads me through the long way to the promise land. That for me, a woman who claims to be a woman of faith, i tend to put my trust more in people, than in God, because I want tangible answers, not just a rushing of wind. and I just don't understand.

but God calls us to trust, not understand. Sometimes "Come and follow me" (Matt 4:18) will be all the instruction we get.

This season has been a rough one. Honestly it's been and continues to be a season of constant questioning. A season that God has been chipping away at the idols I've made in my heart. And I've looked in the mirror and not recognized who I was and I've been failing at relationships with my family members and friends because I'm so engrossed in what I'm not doing, what I'm not accomplishing. And God is shaking me, pushing me, bending down low and whispering into my ear. "Wake up, O sleeper. Wake up." and I'm trying to blink the sleep from my eyes. "Live today with wide eyes, daughter. Notice the little things that you don't always pay attention to and love the people right in front of you."

Stop trying to plan your life out. Stop trying to accomplish meaningless things. because He has already gone ahead of me. And I need to dig deeper into His word, lean closer into His Spirit and take my guidance from Him. He is melting down the idols I've set up in my heart, and things are falling apart. But sometimes when things fall apart, the broken pieces allow all sorts of things to enter, and one of them is the presence of God.

I don't want to come to a standstill. I don't want to be at this moment in my life where I say this is it, this is all there is. I want to be constantly moving and learning and growing and discovering new things about God/people/the world/myself. I don't want to settle just because it's comfortable. Though I am also learning that sometimes the moving isn't so much as a motion of my body but of my spirit. That waiting in His presence, waiting on His timing, is just as much movement as any.

And my brain circuit just explode with the epicness of God's grace. That He would continue to chase after and give grace to my whore of a heart. That He would want me. Me of all people. I mean His love is crazy good. Sometimes Love is patient, sometimes it's kind and sometimes it rocks your face off. And God, even in this season of pain, in this season of dryness and wandering in the wilderness He rocks my face off with unconditional, unending, unmatchless love.

And I can see Him, who is that coming out up from the wilderness. My Beloved. He's beckoning me to Him, for He does not leave us in the dry and weary land. His promises are sure and true. And I just need to lean into Him, to have faith, to trust, and to Come and Follow Him.


May I usher His presence in. And may I be willing to trade a whisper of my name for a shout of His.


In the process of allowing God to redirect my steps,

HIS and yours,

 Cami

p.s. I also have no idea what I am doing with my life. I lay it in the hands of God, may I not pick it back up again.

The Haunted Home of my Heart

"to love me is to love a haunted house. it's fun to visit once a year, but no one wants to live there." - brenna twohy. 

Loneliness is a haunting thing. It creeps in like a spider, gently weaving its web around the beating parts of my heart. Slowly and surely it coils and it tightens, taking with it the love that is left. And lately my heart feels like a house so full of cobwebs, I can't tell if the lights are on, or if anyone is home. And I feel like it's time to clean this haunted house, but the webs are thick, and it's hard to breathe, and I don't even know where to begin.

I had a dream the other night. It was a strange sensation, waking up with a tear streaked face and sweat drenched sheets.

I'm standing at the door of a church, knocking, when before my eyes the church begins to shape itself into an ark. It's this massive boat and I'm knocking at the door, that has now become a ramp, and no one is answering. No one is letting me aboard. Panic sets in as my chest begins to feel extremely heavy. My breath is labored, my mind racing as I turn from the church and look out into the trees. From the trees come hoards of couples. holding hands, laughing, love in there eyes. And I'm being pushed and shoved further and further away from the ark. I can see the ramp has been lowered and these couples are racing up and into the church. I am running and it seems the harder I run the further away the church becomes. 

When I finally reach the ramp, the doors are shut that lead into the boat. I'm standing at the end of this ramp, waving my arms, crying, screaming, "Please, Please, let me in. I can't take this loneliness. Please, don't leave me out here alone." And the millions of couples are looking over the edge at me, eyes full of pity, lips turned into a frown, shaking there heads at me as I scream. And then the rain starts to fall. 

This dream has been haunting me for the past three weeks. It sneaks into my thoughts on occasion, when I'm out running, eating dinner, or simply sitting on the couch reading. Most times while I lay awake at night, willing my mind to just shut off so I can get a decent nights sleep. But for some reason my mind keeps going back to this specific dream and the thoughts that have appeared more recently with it.

So where to begin, on a topic that too often weighs heavily on my heart, like the way snowfall weighs on branches, with any more weight it threatens to break, i am ready to break. Sometimes it feels like I'm just trudging through the trenches of this life all alone, and when i get to the end of the day and lay my head on the pillow all I can do is breathe deep and wonder if there has to be more to life than this.

You see I have read countless blogs and books and post about singleness and dating and everything in between. Heck I've even written about it and have spoken about it multiple times. But writing it and speaking it is a lot easier than living it. And if you are like me, you're probably more than irritated with the discussion of singleness, but how can I not discuss it, how can I not think about it, when it's something that so many people use to define me, or to make snap judgments about what could possibly be wrong with the woman I am.

The theme seems to be that "your dream person will find you once you stop looking." or "when you are focused solely on God then He will put that person in your life." But not once, not one time have I seen anything written about the scary truth, about the question in the back of my mind. "What if "the one" never shows up?"

I guess what my frightening dream is showing me, is a lot about how I feel. Like the church is some sort of Noah's ark. Everyone entering two by two, paired off male and female, and here i am standing at the end of the ramp staring into the boat wondering if they're going to let me board with out a partner. And if I look at the two men I have "dated" or allowed into my heart in the short 25 years of life, they are now both with someone else, and I'm still feeling this loneliness. One after a long relationship when we were just too young to even understand what a relationship was, and the other after a whirlwind of feelings and him maybe not being ready to be in a relationship. But in the back of my mind it just felt like he was saying he just wasn't ready for me. That I wasn't enough, that the whole essence of me in his life was worse than him being alone. And that. Well that just stings.

You see I don't have it all together. I don't have it figured out. As more and more of my friends get engaged or married, as I watch my siblings go on dates and are hopeful about relationships. I sit staring at the mirror trying not to hate on who I am. On the person that men seem to full stop and turn around at. On the person men seem to use as a stepping stone to someone else, someone better. How can one not wonder? How can one not question, when it feels like the whole world is falling in love, and I'm just falling.

And I don't like that everyone assumes that my singleness factors into my being, that when someone learns that I am single, the first question that escapes through muttered lips is "why?" or "is there something wrong with you." As if being alone means that I'm some sort of untouchable, that no man wants anything to do with. but I feel like that. constantly i feel like that.

because it's easy for me to outwardly laugh at myself, while inside I'm cringing at everything I am. It's easy to outwardly say the singleness catch phrases "I am content in my singleness." or "I am just not satisfied with God enough yet." These little phrases that have been impressed upon me since the first time I ever heard someone talk about singleness from a Christian perspective. But inwardly, in the haunted places of my heart, I know I may never be fully satisfied in God, it doesn't seem possible for me to be satisfied in a God who I am constantly discovering. And I don't think I will ever be content or comfortable in being single. It's hardwired into who we are as human beings to desire deep and meaningful relationships, and I crave a romantic love. I crave the toughness of living with and loving another human being.

The problem with me is that I feel like I'm always waiting. That I am constantly stuck in this waiting. And what if I'll be waiting my entire life? Waiting on something that will never happen or waiting on someone who will never come. Just waiting. Waiting for nothing. Because honestly more and more each day my heart feels like a train station, full of strangers always trying to get somewhere else. It 's not a final destination for anyone.

I wish that every thing would just come together. But things don't arrange themselves like a bouquet of flowers. Life is much too messy for anything like that. I wish I didn't have to feel so haunted. Haunted by the idea that when and only when or if and only if someone happens to finally see me. See all of me and actually decided to stick around I'm gonna somehow mess that up too.

And I'm struggling through this. Struggling to understand that I don't have answers to give or a simple equation to solve this feeling. And I just want to stop apologizing for the space I fill up. I just want to not have to write reminders on the mirror to love myself. To wake up one morning and finally feel the weight of not being good enough for him is finally lifted. To gather up the pieces of my shattered heart without cutting my hands.

But most importantly I want to be able to unashamedly be free in who I am. To run up that ramp and into the boat screaming love. Love for myself. Love for others. and Love through the loneliness.

I guess what I'm trying to learn is that maybe romantic love isn't the only type of love I should strive for. And maybe in learning that, I can find that I'm not really lonely. And I'm just going over and over these words in my head. that maybe, just maybe no other person on this planet was made for me, but in fact were made for themselves. And that maybe love is all about choices. that no one is going to be perfect for me and that we, as a people, as a church, need to stop raising everyone on the belief that someone is out there, just one other person in the whole world, "made for them" because it isn't true. That no one is made for me, besides me. and that other people belong to themselves.

And that there isn't just "one other person" out there waiting for me. That I can love multiple people over my lifetime. I can have more than one soulmate, or none. Or more importantly i can be my own soulmate.

I need to learn that I'm not missing some "other half" but that I am a whole person by myself. And if by some miracle or chance I do find someone to love, to remember and understand that they are a whole person too, not my "other half."

So often though it feels like Christian culture says that we need to be attached to a significant other and we'll finally be adults, we'll finally be living, we'll finally be making a difference in the Kingdom (trust me I went to a Christian College). And it feels like as a single person I am alienated, or kicked off the metaphorical ark. The Church is not made for single people. I feel it every time I'm there. I feel it in the messages, in the couples holding hands while they worship. In the "single groups" and the "have you met this guy, he's a single christian man..." blah blah blah. I feel it deep in the haunted parts of my heart.

I don't really know where to go from here. Because I'm still struggling, still fighting through these feelings of unworthiness. I don't think it's just something you "get over." And I am single because I'm single, but that doesn't mean it makes me feel any better. It doesn't mean I don't question myself constantly. That I don't look at my life, through high school and college and after college and wonder what was so ugly about me, what was so wrong with me that kept a man from even asking me to coffee.

Am I too much to love? Am I not enough to love? the questions bounce and float through the gray matter in my brain. I want my joy back. I want to feel like the girl I left behind 8000 miles across the ocean. Who fearlessly walked into the darkness, with faith and trust in God and everything she was. But I can't seem to find her. So I guess I just have to keep searching for answers. To continue to keep trying to find myself in Christ, but sometimes He is hard to find.

I am leaning in.
Chest cut open.
Haunted heart laid bare.
Asking. Seeking.
Teach me how to love myself.
Teach me how to love You more.

Sweep out the cobwebs, turn on the lights. So that I might find myself again.
So that I might find myself in Him.


HIS and yours,

 Cami

Resurrecting Belief.

    This morning I waited. In darkness. In worship. In sermon. I waited. Waited for the sun to resurrect itself from the ground and finds itself in the sky. Close to the galaxies, to the stars and the heavens. The light; ever so significant on a day like today. The light, ever so powerful to the darkness surrounding.
     This morning I waited. In darkness. In worship. In sermon. I waited. Waited for the Son to resurrect Himself from the grounds in my heart and find His way into my soul. Close to the beating of my passions, to the thoughts in mind. The Light to shine into the ever so clouding doubt that has made me foggy. The Light, ever so powerful to the darkness surrounding. Me.
    And lately my doubt could put Thomas to shame. In the past few months I wouldn't have even known if sticking my fingers in the pierced side of Jesus would have brought me back to believing. Because let me be honest, no one ever tells you that when you make the decision to let Jesus wreck your life, the wrecking isn't always something easy or something beautiful. Sometimes it's soul crushing honesty, a peeling back of layers and of darkness to the raw and naked truth of what was, what is, and what is to come. It's the realization that sometimes life is lived in the trenches and I am battle-scared and heavy-hearted. Me. A relentless sinner in desperate need of this Story. In need of His constant grace to cover me in garments of love and peace.
   "It just death and resurrection, over and over again, day after day, as God reaches down into our deepest graves and with the same power that raised Jesus from the dead wrests us from our pride, our apathy, our fear, our prejudice, our anger, our hurt, and our despair. And I don't know which is harder for me to believe: that God reanimated the brain functions of a man three days dead, or that God can bring back to life all the beautiful things we have killed. Both seem pretty unlikely to me." -Rachel Held Evans.
     I would agree that it seems unlikely to me. And i think because lately I've been struggling with my worth, with who I am in Him. Every once in a while something changes in a persons life that brings about a paradigm shift. And this shift has been happening gradually to me over the past year. The fault lines in my heart are moving and there has been bending and breaking. I felt it every so often, in the months of December and January were depression so deep that blankets covered my windows and oil caked my hair and pretending was the best that I could do. As I wrestled with my faith and with Jesus and with life. The darkness was overwhelming and sometimes I would spend the days in bed crying, dissatisfied with who I was. I could feel the shifting in my heart and I felt as if God just decided at that point to push away from me, to let me writhe in self-pity and sadness and doubt. My thoughts were, why would a gracious and loving God let me go through this, why would a gracious and loving God let all that is happening continue.
   The doubt and the thought process in this, I think, comes from hearing people use Jesus and the church as some quick fix or get rich fix scheme to patch up the distraught and destroyed areas or their lives. This idea of a God who opens up parking spaces and takes prayer request for weather and elections and future spouses, while there are children out there dying of hunger and preventable diseases, there are people out there lost abused and in need of something more than a sunny day. But no one wants to wait on God. No one wants patient prayer or long awaited grace and forgiveness.

   "The modern-day church doesn't like to wander or wait. The modern-day church likes results. Convinced the gospel is a product we've got to sell to an increasingly shrinking market, we like our people to function as walking advertisements: happy, put-together, finished-proof that this Jesus stuff WORKS! At its best, such a culture generates pews of Stepford Wife-style robots with painted smiles and programmed moves. At its worst, it creates environments where abuse and corruption get covered up to protect reputations an preserve image. The world is watching, 'Christians like to say, 'so let's be on our best behavior and quickly hide the mess. Let's throw up some before-and-after shots and roll that flashy footage of our miracle product blanching out every sign of dirt, hiding every sign of disease" -Rachel Held Evans,
   But I am not an advertisement and if this past year has taught me anything is that a quick fix God is just some idol that people, even good intentioned people, have created to bring people into buildings instead of bringing them into the arms of Jesus; where yes, there is pain, and change, and excruciating realness of who we are and who He is.
   "And if the world is watching, we might as well tell the truth. And the truth is, the church doesn't offer a cure. It doesn't offer a quick fix. The church offers death and resurrection. The church offers the messy, inconvenient, gut-wrenching, never-ending work of healing and reconciliation. The church offers grace." -Rachel Held Evans.
    And in the end that is really what we all need. In the end that is really what I need. As I sit in waiting to resurrect myself from the darkness that so easily entangles me, I reach my hand from the grave and the Resurrection, the Life Himself grabs a hold my hand pulls me from its depths and says unto me. "Daughter, I will never leave nor forsake you." He holds me close. While I lie in bed crying. While I question Him and my life and the future. Looking back, hindsight is, of course, 20/20 and it's easier to write this after going through then in the midst of it all. But I think, especially in this season of resurrection that I need to be honest, that life with Jesus, is beautiful, but it is also painful, it is welcoming change, change that is most often not what you expect or want. That sometimes it is walking through the trenches of a battle that sometimes feels like I am on the losing side. And Each day brings with it new battles to stumble through, but it is in the belief and knowledge of Jesus' resurrection, that even though I may lose some battles, He has ultimately won the war over my life, over my soul and the lives and souls of so many others. That we find faith as we follow Jesus, but we have to have a willingness to wrestle with God. To wrestle with questioning and doubt.

    I sit here now thinking "How can I not believe when I look at the facts?" Look at the history, the text, the dead sea scrolls, the testimonies, the death of those who follow Him. Sometimes I wish I could draw out a map on how to navigate this journey of faith, but the truth is there is no right or wrong way to go, there is only Jesus. There is no one way to walk, there is no straight line to follow, there are twist and turns, mountains and valleys and the only constant, unchanging thing is Jesus. And I'm not going to lie and say I'm sitting here sipping my tea with absolutely no questions. No, I'm constantly questioning, constantly hungering, constantly growing, searching for truth, searching for justice, searching for Jesus. But I continue to step towards it all in faith, because no step taken in faith is wasted. Not by a God made man, who was betrayed for 30 silver coins, beaten and bloodied beyond recognition. who carried a cross through dirt and grime, up hill. Not by a God made man, who was pierced through the wrists and the feet with seven inch nails. Who wore a crown of thorns, mocked and spit on. Who hung for six hours, bled out and died. Who said it is finished with the weight of the worlds sins on His shoulder. Not by a God made man who dead and wrapped in linens laid in a tomb for three days. who went to hell and back, defeated death, resurrected to life, and ascending to heaven. No step of faith is wasted by a God who in the end makes everything beautiful.
   We are all at different stops in our lives. "But the gospel doesn't need a coalition devoted to keeping the wrong people out. It needs a family of sinners, saved by grace, committed to tearing down the walls, throwing open the doors, and shouting, "Welcome! There's bread and wine, Come eat with us and talk." This isn't a kingdom for the worthy; it;s a kingdom for the hungry." -Rachel Held Evans.
And there is no one person who has it all figured out and there is no one church who has is all together. There is no one person or place that can give us what Jesus can.
   I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm in the middle of a messy life. That only with Jesus can I resurrect my belief from the ground, from the weeds that entangle it and try to pull it back down into the dark. And that all the most beautiful things are pulled from the ground. All the most beautiful things are made in a fire. All the most beautiful things are hit again and again. All the most beautiful things are shaped with His hands. Nothing about you, nothing about me, nothing about us is unworthy, is unredeemable, is ugly. We are made of the most beautiful things.
    Even in the questioning and the doubt He is near. Even in the moments where we believe that all faith is lost, that there is nothing left. He is not lost. We no longer need to stand at the empty tomb, crying wondering where He is. For He is not there. He is Risen. Resurrected, Living, Breathing God, who conquered death so that we could live. Who walks beside us, pulls us from the grave and covers us in grace.
    "Like every generation before and every generation after, we're looking for Jesus- the same Jesus who can be found in the strange places He's always been found: in bread, in wine, in baptism, in the Word, in suffering, in community, and among the least of these."And even in our searching, even in our belief, there will be doubt, there will be questions, but that doesn't mean we are any less of a believer, any less of His follower. It means that we are stepping in faith, taking the journey towards those strange places where He can be found and where eventually, in eternity we will meet face to face.
   Holy Holy Holy to the One who is Risen indeed.


  Resurrecting my Belief,


 HIS and yours

  Cami

grace and braveness in the dark.

Journal entry:

December 28th 2015:

The plane lifted into the air as I sank back into my seat ready for the flight into Chicago. I’ve flown my entire life, across oceans and continents and I still get this nervous feeling in the pit of my stomach. 

I glance around the plane, observing the passengers around me, most are already drifting off to sleep, some are shoving their headphones into their ears. The guy across the aisle from me is digging around in his bag looking for something. So I take a moment to observe him. I don’t know if it’s the writer in me or that i like to soak in the details of people and file away. 

He looks to be about my age, maybe a few years older. His dirty blonde hair looked like it had been styled that morning, but at some point his fingers had become restless and decided that they needed to comb through his strands a few times. His profile was strong, and the blue collar shirt he had on was snug against his chest. 

He sat up quickly, pulling a bag of mints from his pack. He turned his head toward me and our eyes met. I jerked my head to the right, away from him, embarrassed that I had been caught staring. I shook my head, reaching for my book in the seat-back pocket in front of me. 

“Excuse me.” 

I turned left towards the voice, placing my hand in between the pages of my book to mark my spot.

Across the aisle guy was looking at me, holding a mint out in his hand. 

I looked down at the mint and up at his face again. “huh?” I squeeze out. I hadn’t had a conversation with someone since mom dropped me at the airport at 5 that morning, which was three or so hours ago.

“Would you like one.” He reached his hand further into the aisle closer to me. 

“Uh, sure.” I shrugged, grabbing the mint from his hand, “Thanks.” 

“You’re welcome.” He replied as I ripped the wrapping off and popped the mint into my mouth. 

His hand still extended into the aisle. “I’m Stephen.” He offered.

“Cameron,” I shook his hand. “Thanks for the mint.” 

“You heading home Cameron.” His eyes, a shade of green, looked at me waiting for an answer. 

I sat for a moment contemplating if I wanted to have a conversation with this complete stranger or read the rest of my book.

“No, visiting some friends,” I replied, “and you?” Conversation it was.

“Well I wouldn’t call Chicago home, I’d say it’s a resting place, for a much bigger journey.”

“What do you mean by that?” I asked him.

And so we began talking. He told me about this job he’s been at in Chicago since he finished grad school a few years ago. That he likes it but he’s wanting to do bigger things with his life. 

I talked about all my failed jobs, about my desire to travel and care for those in need, about my first degree and now nursing school.

He would talk and I would ask questions, then he would ask questions and I would talk. 

“I don’t even know why I am telling you all of this.” He said at one point after telling me that his trip had been to see his girlfriend who in the end broke it off because of distance. 

“Well, Stephen that’s the thing about conversations in airplanes. It easier to say everything without holding back because you know deep down that you’re never going to see the other person again. Sometime it’s easier to share secrets and life with strangers than it is with people who know you.”

“You really feel that way?” He asked.

“More recently I have.” I half smiled.

He smiled handing me another mint as the Captain came over the speaker to tell us we would be landing shortly. 

Stephen sighed. “Well all I can say is that you seem like a woman with a thousand stories behind her eyes, just waiting on someone who will take the time to look and to listen.”

“Oh really, you can tell all that by a conversation.” I laughed.

He smiled at the stewardess walking by and then looked at me. “I can tell all that by the way you listen to the conversation. You listen with the intent to listen. With the intent to hear people’s stories and add them to your collection of stories that I’m sure you hope one day to tell.”

“For real.” I smirked looking down at my hands in my lap. Feeling uncomfortable with him reading me.

“For real. You extend grace with a listening ear and if you ask me this world needs more grace. Someday whenever you’re working as a nurse that grace will be important. It’s something we tend to forget. you know?”

“Yes. I do.” I responded looking up from my hands. 

We talked some more as the plan landed and taxied into the gate. Grabbing our bags from the overhead bin, we reached the walkway into the airport. 

Feeling awkward cause I never know how to end conversations with people. We’re standing in front of the flight screen as I’m looking for my connecting gate, now that my first flight out had been cancelled and he’s heading to baggage claim.

He holds out his hand to me. 

I look at the mint sitting in it and laugh.

“Thank you,” I say taking the mint from his hand and putting it in my pocket. “I’ll save it for later.” 

His hands still kind of hanging there in between us. “Thank you.” he smiles as I shake his hand. “It was so nice to meet you and talk you.”

“Yeah” I say still shaking his hand, “You too, good luck with all your plans.” 

He releases my hand. “You too,” He begins to turn away and then looks back at me. “And Cameron.” He smirks.

“Uh, yeah.” I say reaching for my headphones. 

“Never forget grace and never forget their stories.” He smiles, waves, and walks aways. 

And i’m standing there staring after him, wondering if I should do something, wondering what just happened, wondering if I just missed something important and then a lady rams into me with her suitcase and I’m aware of all the people flooding around me to see the bored and I slowly back away, my mind retreating within itself wondering, thinking about the conversation I just had and how badly I had been wanting someone to talk to. that I had needed to get all my thoughts out my head and expressed to another human being. 

And it’s crazy to go back and read about this in my journal. To relive through this crazy notion that I met this complete stranger on this random airplane who I’ll probably never see again, who spoke into my life when I needed it. Because these past 6 months have been a real struggle. 

     It’s been this sudden realization that these dreams I had aren’t the ones that I’m meant to live. 

     It’s like loneliness that has become in most cases unbearable. But it’s hard to explain. I mean you get told you're ugly enough times you start to believe it. You’re rejected enough times and you start to reject yourself. 

      And there are these moments in my life where everything feels like one huge mistake. In the moments of groaning, so deep, so painful, that I just want to run. run from it all. and then maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much. maybe life wouldn’t hurt so much. 

      And I have to remind myself that what I am doing is not a mistake, that these things are not a mistake. but that they are living, breathing forms of my story. and they are leading me to something beautiful.

I have to remind myself that a sad moment does not equate to a sad life. and that this may be a sad chapter, but I am not a sad story.

And I must follow them. These stories that are swirling in my soul.

I must follow Him.

I want. I desire to live on the jagged edges of faith, but most days I lack the courage to do so. Courage comes in doing a brave thing, but I am just a timid creature mimicking braveness in little huffs. My mind is an unquiet one, words and thoughts and impulses constantly crashing into each other. i find it hard to focus, hard to concentrate, hard to hear that still small voice whisper “Be strong, be courages, I am with you. I will not leave you. Come my daughter. Come follow me.”

I finally took down the blanket that was covering my windows, keeping the sunlight from coming in. and I finally washed and changed my sheets, and lit that new candle, and put my clothes away, and washed my hair. And I can celebrate in those things.

I came across a blog the other day that said this: “Jesus didn’t issue a command to act like him. Jesus gave an invitation to walk with Him.” Between the “follow me” there is space for stumbling, for questioning, for turning around and saying “Sorry Jesus, this is too tough I’m going home!” 

   But i think Jesus wanted us to know that being uncertain, messing up, and making mistakes IS a part of following Him.

And I hear Him whisper. “ be brave, even when you are afraid.” 

   And sometimes I just get tired, so tired of people telling me everything will be just fine, that it will all work out, that i need to this and i need to that. that I’m not reading my bible enough, or that i need to pray about it.

    But how do you pray when everything come out in fits of anger and spit. When life is not what you thought it would be. and when all that’s inside you howls in frustration. How do you solve that with words flung into the air?

And it feels like I’m not doing anything. like I’m not doing enough, never doing enough. There are faces etches in my mind 8000 miles across the sea and all I want to do is reach for them. Antone, John, Caren, Suzanna, Joy, Susie, Flora, Mary, Elizabeth, Mateo, Ester, Saloma. Names etches into my heart. Stories burned into my soul. 

And it’s hard to be still. It’s hard for me to accept that God has placed me where I am to better serve His Kingdom in this moment. And He’s teaching me that some seasons are less activity and flash and some are more ache and healing. And with ache and healing comes Grace.

Olive Chan wrote, “It is grace that has brought us this far. Grace that will sustain us. Grace that will eventually get us there.”

So it had to be Grace that swirled me up and dropped me into this life. There is no other way. And so by Grace I struggle. By grace I reach toward braveness. Even when there is fear in my heart.

I reach toward the stories that need to be told.

For the people dying while we flip channels.

For the children orphaned, sold and bought, raped and killed.

For the injustice not just in other countries but my own.

To stand up even when I am being still.

I’m tired of people using religion to justify the terrible things they do. And I am tired of doing nothing.

I’m tired of storing up grace and never giving it away.

Even thought life is not where I thought it would be I know it is where God wants it to be. And He knows the groans of my heart, for He groans with me.

Even in that aching and the healing.

I will give grace.

I will be brave.

I will follow Him.

Aching, Healing, Finding Grace,

HIS and yours,

  Cami

“the whole creation has been groaning… not only so, but we ourselves groan inwardly as we wait. We hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently.” -Romans 8:22, 23-25. 

Writings from a hate-filled sinner.

I use to have a savior complex. Okay so saying use to is not a good idea because in moments I think I still do. I had been on countless short-term ministry projects and outreaches and in my head I was like I couldn’t wait to see what I could do. And it wasn’t until a little over 3 ½ years ago that I learned something. I can do nothing. And lately those lessons I learned have been creeping up on me again.

            You see normally I am one to stay silent on those hot-buzzer topics. I don’t like arguments, they leave me feeling dry and defeated. And honestly this isn’t really about any certain thing, it’s about not being able to sleep at two am, crying out in prayer over this country, over this world, and over so many people. And my heart hurts, because in doing so, I’m seeing the old dark corners of my heart that haven’t been dusted off in years. I’m seeing those dark corners come into the light and begin to burn in pain. Burn because I am silent. Because I stay silent. Because I am afraid of what other may think of my thoughts. But maybe, maybe now is the best time to no longer be silent. Maybe now is the best time to be honest, to be open, to be real. To honestly say that I have no idea what anyone is going through in this world, I can’t sympathize or empathize or whatever because in my own selfish human way I only know my own pain; which in any comparison is nothing to the worlds. So feel free internet world to comment, to discuss, to nastily and hastily think of a remark that will wound, I mean why the hell not, everyone else is doing it.

            And so… here it goes.

            I’ve been cruising the news and the Internet a lot lately. Watching, reading, crying. And you know what I have found. …HATE. So much hate. People killing people for the color of their skin; and I can’t imagine what that would be like because, well I’m white. I don’t have to be worried about a target being on my back. And so I have no place to write about how all lives matter or black lives matter because honestly the only life I have ever cared about is my own. So in saying so, that would make me a liar. Because I am a coward. I have a heart that stands up for injustice, but I lack the strength and the courage to open my mouth and ever speak up. And in doing so I remain silent; when I am called to be a voice for the voiceless. How dare I!

            And I have no idea what it feels like to not know who you are. Because I’ve always known who I am and each day I discover more of who I want to be. And how do I stand for or against something that I cannot relate to. “Educate yourself,” I am told. But honestly, I am educated, I read and research. But the kind of education that these people are calling me to is the kind of rude and unnecessary banter on newsfeeds and twitters. Of one-liners that are suppose to be filled with poison for anyone standing on the “wrong” side. NO. No thank you. I would rather be uneducated by their standards then stand on the fence yelling obscenities into the Internet world.

            And yet over and over again it is what I see.

            We hide behind profiles that make our lives look seemingly better than they are so that we can call others out on how terrible their lives are. How inaccurate their statements are, how racist or how homophobic they are. For being male or female, for being brown, black, or white, or Christians, atheist or Muslim or whatever they may be.

            We target it and we tear at it and claw at it until we wound. Is this the problem? Is this were it stems from? People so deeply involved in themselves that they lack conviction for their own. I am convicted everyday, because I see the face of evil and it stares back at me from the mirror every morning. And I have to fight against myself and the darkness inside of me before I could ever fight against anyone else. I CALL MYSELF OUT!

            It is not my place to condone and it is not my place to judge. To tell people what the right pronoun is, what color of skin is right, what language is right, what job is right, what country is right. My place is among the gutters, I am the worst of these and it is the darkest corners of my heart that I see that I believe I am better. But I’m not, which is why for so long I remain so stagnant.

            People, myself included, go around and say we are a Christian, but we don’t carry the weight of that word with us. We turn around and condemn people for their ways of thinking, for their ideas or beliefs. We are not ones who are to condemn, we are one who are called to Love.

            And maybe I am part of a generation who is all about love. Who believes in this type of peace signs and rainbow hippie God. No. That’s not it.

            I believe in the God who brought the Israelites out of Egypt. In the God who parted the red sea, who saved Daniel from the lions den and Shadrach Meshach and Abednego from the flames, the God who sent His son to speak into lives and heal the sick, raise the dying, and in the end shed His blood for my screw ups, my failures, my sinful self. I believe in a God who over and over again has shown love. Unending love. And who continues to show love to all, despite what people may think. What type of God would withhold His love from His people, no matter who they may be, and who are we to take a God who is infinite, a God who is not bound by time or our labels, or by our boxes, and decide who He loves. WE ARE NOT GOD. and we cannot draw conclusions from things that we will never understand. What is the greatest commandment? “Love the Lord your God with all your heart, mind, soul, and strength, and love your neighbor as yourself.” Who is you neighbor? Everyone.

            This is what I believe. And I don’t ask you to believe the same things I do. I don’t ask that you open your mouth and allow me to shove my beliefs and my thoughts down your throat. I ask that we all find Love within ourselves.

            The God I believe in. He is a God of love and a God of justice.

            But I. I am not that God; I am not a god of love and justice.

            I am human, A sinner, trying to follow in the footsteps of a God-made-MAN who has called me to this Love.

            This is me, putting my foot forward in trying to teach myself that speaking up doesn’t always look like words shaped like daggers, and staying silent doesn’t always look like cowardice. Sometimes we have to find our own words to say before we say anything at all.

            My goal is never to try to convert someone, my goal is to never say I understand when I do not, my goal is simply to fall more in love with the Jesus and fall more in love with the people around me. Whether anyone believes or not is up to them.

            Right now I am working on standing up for injustice in more than just my heart, I’m just learning how to find my own words to say.

Writings from the road to recovery- from a hate-filled sinner,

HIS and yours,

 Cami

When all there's left to say is... goodbye.

   

I'm not sure how to sum up my last two years in this place. Whatever I've tried to write sounds flat and anticlimactic. I can't seem to find the words to fit or to describe; the people, the emotions, the experiences, the love. all I know is that I am a mess of thoughts and my heart is heavy with goodbyes, floating in an ocean of tears that seem to ebb and flow like the tide. And I'm just hoping I can get through this in one piece, finish with dry eyes and a bit of a lighter heart.
      It's been about two weeks since I took my little Cruze and drove away from that tiny town and began my journey east. And it's unreal that I could miss a place this much, it's an odd sort of missing, because I miss the people there that I love and hold so dear to my heart, but I also miss who I was at that time, in that place, and in my heart I know that I will never be that person again.
    Never did the thought cross my mind that I would be spending two years as a volunteer youth ministry leader, it was not even on my radar. And honestly I didn't think I could do it. Didn't think I was qualified or courageous enough to be giving advice to high school girls about life and faith, when I felt as if my life and my faith were falling apart. I didn't think that any high schooler would even remotely want any part of my life or want to hear anything I would ever have to say. And I never saw myself being a part of the community I grew up in, because I never felt a part of that community when I was a kid. How was I, an unconnected woman, suppose to connect in this community and with these kids? I questioned and doubted what God was asking of me. Searching out excuses or reason to say NO... No way, not happening. But the more I searched and the more I questioned, the more reasons I found to say yes, the more I felt God nudging me towards ministry in this place with these specific people.
   And I've learned in the past two years the my faith leaves me with more questions than any other puzzle and sometimes there are never enough answers. But that doesn't mean I quit moving forward or I quit asking, sometimes faith leaves us blind, and we follow with outstretch hands and trust that God is holding onto them leading us in His way. And in two years, I've learned that, for me, blindness leads to a outspoken, reckless, lived-out faith. And I could use more of that.
      How do describe something so indescribable? In two years I feel like there were days I got a glimpse of what heaven may look like someday, I got to see what a church should be like, and experience community in such an intentional way. This was and is joy inexpressible in my soul, God laid hold of my heart and he hasn't let go.
     These high school kids by far are so amazing, they are going to be world-changers, I really do believe it. I mean in my life I always heard or experienced people saying that they want community and friendship but when that means accountability or commitment, in my life it seems that people tend to run the other way. But these kids were different, they were intentional and honest and raw with us. The more I allowed myself to be real and human with them the more I got to experience and see Jesus in each and every one of their lives.
     That youth group was my church for two years. I experienced more of Jesus in that old youth room on those nasty couches than I ever had in a church building or in a pew. It was a place where there was so much joy, and moments of struggle, moments of sadness, it was a family, that youth room was a living room, a place where only the word Comfort can describe. We intentionally lived life together, held each other accountable and poured into the lives around us. It's where I inherited younger brothers and sisters, who had the desire and fire to grow in their faith, and the courage to ask tough question. Which in turn made my desire to grow even stronger.
     We found Love, His Love right were we stood and when we walked, it followed. I could see it in these kids, in their hearts and their faces. And I have words in me... fighting to find a way out. Sometimes there's so many words and they get so crowded in my head that I think it's going to explode. I want to write them down, but most of the time my thoughts and my feelings are bigger than what I can get on paper. And these kids are words I can't even describe. They are utterly amazing and loving and strong.
   Was it perfect, No, by any means, there were so many imperfect moments, especially with me, and yet God used me, and nothing could express what that means to me. There is not enough breath in my lungs to praise God for all that He has done. It was messy, but that's what ministry is. And personally I like messy people; people who don't fit in a box or stay between the lines, who's hearts are as bound to Christ as an anchor grounds a ship.
      And sometimes I have this urge to retouch the canvas of days past with today's paintbrush, to cover the things i didn't do or couldn't do. The things I regret or forgot. But then I think about it all, every moment. Every valley, every mountaintop, every night spent lying awake in tears and prayer, every question, every doubt. And I wouldn't change it for the world. I would trade it for anything.
    God allowed me to pour into the lives of some amazing girls. To talk about life, love, faith and everything in between, He gave me the grace to lead even in my imperfections, even in my weakness, He was present and oh, so strong! I fell in love with these girls and their big hearts. They are my sisters, we became a family in that little youth room, and nothing or nobody can take that from us.
     And outside of youth group He gave me an amazing couple that poured into me so selflessly, who loved me despite my mess. Who met me, accepted me, and took me in like family. Let me come over and lounge on their couch, and feed me, and talk with me and laugh with me. Encouraged me and pushed me to grow in my faith, when no one else in my community would, they reached out from another town, took me in their arms and intentionally loved me, and that is and was a beautiful thing.
    God also gave me two of the most amazing men, that I can seriously call my best friends. Men I got to lead with, pray with, cry with, laugh with, and live life with. They were there in every moment, big or small, in every tough day, and in every celebration. I Love them both so much, and I can't thank God enough for them.
 And sometimes all that's left to do is say goodbye. These past two years have brought grace and wisdom, and with them comes the realization that I don't know as much as i would like to believe. But I know better than to think that change will ever be over. For the unchanging character of the Creator gives Him the freedom to create change, and so this change brings grace. We all keep going even after Cameron, Colton, and I have left this tiny town, these kids will keep growing and they will go out and pour into the lives around them, whether that's family, teammates, classmates, in other states, in other countries. With them the possibilities are endless, and with God they will move mountains!
     So this is goodbye, however hard and messy it seems, goodbyes don't have to be an ugly, grieving, horrifying process. They are a part of everyday life. Every step we take we are saying goodbye to the ground, and bouncing back down. Goodbyes are unique, colorful, and majestic, like the sun waving goodbye to the skyline. Sometimes. goodbyes are the most beautiful moment in our life. Beautiful and under-appreciated. But even knowing goodbyes are inevitable doesn't make them any easier.
      So I say goodbye, not in sadness, but with so much joy.
      I am so proud of these kids. And know that no matter what happens, God is always with them.
     I want to hold on, but I hear His voice whispering in the depths of my heart, "Leave them, let them go. You've done what I asked, now let the Holy Spirit work in them."
     My heart is heavy and is not quiet before Him
     So here I am a little broken in His presence
     Until again it is so
     Yes, my heart is fragile,
      But I see that His heart inside of mine
     Is a powerful thing.



Until we meet again, whether on heaven or earth,




 HIS and yours,

    Cami

At the Heart of Ministry.

   Journal Entry, February 13, 2015: "And I am mad, so mad, because my hands and my feet have become soft and my heart has harden."
      It's been a long time since I wrote anything down. Since I processed through my thoughts by typing and writing and words on pages. And maybe I stopped because I couldn't think anymore, couldn't write anymore, or maybe it was because I was trying to soak in all these moments, all these memories, all these things I am holding deep within myself; in my heart, in my soul, These people, these places, that soon I will be leaving behind. But after this past week I have the closure I needed. I have the strength to keep pressing on. I have the belief that God has got it all taken care of.
    And eloquent words couldn't even begin to describe how I am feeling right now. I am coughing and tired and drained. And yet I've never felt better, never felt more filled, I fill Jesus all around me. and that my friends, is a beautiful thing.
    I am in a continual awe of who He is. That my life and the lives around me are truly the story of God's grace and love through ordinary people, and I saw that reflected in such a beautiful and amazing way this past week.
   Let me start off like this. I am extremely unqualified in what I do. As Colton would put it, "I feel as if I am constantly leading out of my imperfections." I am incapable of leading these high school girls and yet this is the place God has called me to, for the past two years. Did I ever anticipate, did I ever expect this? No. I thought I would be the first one to leave my hometown and never look back, and yet here I am two years after returning from Africa, knee deep in a ministry with amazing kids, that I have completely and utterly fallen in love with. And what I've seen these past few months is that these kids make this ministry. I do not.
 God doesn't need me or Builders to reach these kids, He can use any avenue He chooses, and yet he graciously chooses and calls me. He graciously chooses Cameron, and Colton, and Delaney, all us leaders to be the ones to love, to pour, to sacrifice, to laugh, to cry, to live life with these amazing high schoolers. Never did I ever think I'd be where I am sitting right now. and yet I cannot imagine my life anywhere else in this moment!
   Why am I getting all emotional and writing this post. Because I have to process this. I have to write this down, because if i don't I'm going to explode.
    God is at work!
     This past week God over and abundantly provided me and the other leaders and a small group of our kids to go do ministry in Denver. I mean God moved mountains to get us there through obstacles and struggles and prayer and tears shed, God provided the funds, the transportation, and the hearts to take this leap of faith in a new place and man were lives changed! Mine included.
    But this isn't about me at all. This about the eight amazing high schoolers that took their spring break and made it all about God. Who selflessly sacrificed a week of doing whatever they wanted to go an serve God, each other, and the people in Denver. These kids continually blow my mind.

    Throughout the week I saw these boys and girls approach complete strangers and start conversations, step out in faith in unknown areas and come out fearless, bolder, and stronger. I saw them play with and carry and chase and fall in love with a group of at risk youth, I saw them feed the hungry,  love the hurting, shine their light and constantly point back to Jesus. They poured themselves out to the point of exhaustion, then got back up and did it the next day an the next day. Never complaining, always rejoicing. Through the earlier mornings and the long evenings, and the monotonous task we sometimes had to do. I saw Jesus in each and every one of them. I saw His hands, His feet, His love. And as a leader that make my heart swell. That makes my joy complete.
   These kids may never know the impact they had on the lives they came in contact with in Denver. But seeds were planted, plants were water, and love was restored. But I want these kids to know the impact they have had in my life. The past two years they have stretched me, grew me, and caused me to ask question i didn't even know I had. They caused me to dive deeper into scripture, into worship, and into relationships with people. They have impacted my life in such a way, I can't go back. I can't imagine my life not knowing each and everyone of them.
  And I shed tears over them, because there is unknown in what is to come. We all being called to the next journey God has called us to. But if there is one thing I have learned, it is this. These kids know Jesus, these kids love Jesus. and that these kids make the ministry. I do not, and no other leader will. We can have leaders shouting from the rooftops, but if we don't have kids, who are sold out, who are bought in, who are all out radical for Jesus. then what are we even doing?
    I have found that at the heart of ministry is discipleship and at the heart of discipleship is love and at the heart of love is Jesus. And He is what we are all here for. He is the reason I do this. He is the reason I moved away then moved back again, because I was not finish. He is the reason we, as leaders, cry and pray over these kids. Because we know that they do not need us, they need Jesus. More than a Wednesday night service, more than a Sunday night small group, more than any retreat, more than a week long missions trip to wherever. They need Him and Him only.
    And my hope is that my life has been an outpouring of who He is in me and the love He has for them. I am constantly leading out of my imperfections, but it's out of those imperfections, out of my weakness, that He is strong, that He is exalted. All in love, all in grace.
    These high schoolers, they have changed my life. They have changed the way I look at things. And for that I am forever grateful. Forever grateful for the love they share, the stories they have, and the lives they live. The world, the enemy, better look out because these kids are going to do amazing things for the Kingdom. And I am so blessed and speechless beyond words that I got to be a small part of it. That for the past two years I have experienced joy and sadness with them all. And I have seen that by peeling back the layers of our images and letting others see our struggles, we allow Jesus to come in and meet us where we are at and use as we are and change us in the process. These high schoolers have showed me that each day.
   So I have seen reflected in these high schoolers lives that want to change the world  and so we have to start loving God in such a way that our entire world changes. because that is the beauty of transformational love, it doesn't just affect us, it affects those around us. And that the answer to life is still Jesus, it'll always be Jesus, it'll never stop being Jesus. Jesus is enough.
     And He has used these kids to teach me that. to teach me that His love, His grace-giving powerful love; can soften hearts, can move mountains, can open blind eyes, can restore hope in us. No matter where I go, I will carry them with me, their stories, their lives, their impact will be forever engraved upon my heart. And I'm seeing that soft hands and feet are okay as long has they are being used for Jesus, and my heart is not hardened, but being tossed from hand to hand, prodded by fingers, filling up with love, so much love from the moments in this place.


   Reflecting on my memories,

     HIS and yours,


     Cami