Sometimes You Have to Let Things Go...

I have a grip like an iron fist. I hold on tight. My fingers white, my hands aching. I don't let go of things easily. I hold on until my fingers bleed or until there's nothing else to hold onto anymore. And lately I've been dealing with a lot of scary things. Trying to carry more than I can handle, trying to appear like I've got it under control. That my arms aren't struggling and my back doesn't ache, and no that is not sweat dripping from my forehead.


I'm good. I got this. Curling my fingers around things and people and places, knuckles bared and white and hands aching. I'm good. I got this.

And everything falls.

This post has been sitting here for far too long. way too long. Just waiting to be typed into existence. I haven't known how to get it all out. And yet would it even matter, does anything I have to say or do matter. Do I make a difference with this one post, with my words, with my heart. I'm dealing with too many scary things. I'm carry way too much, holding onto many things.

There comes a time when you just have to let things go.

Now is that time.

Lately life has seemed like a balance of holding on and letting go. And things have become uneven with too much holding and not enough letting go. But how do you come to terms with the quick switch of direction, the quick flip of the page, the quick hand flicks of goodbye that are coming? How do you deal? Honestly I've let the sadness seep into the corners of my soul and darken me.

If you would have asked me a few weeks ago how I was doing, I would have answered with a grunt and a growl. Because as of late, I have not been on speaking terms with God. My line of communication silenced by anger and frustrations and fear. so much fear.  And the thing about fear is, that it doesn't leave room for anything else like beauty or purpose. It sucks the life out of you. It sucks the hope out of you. Fear swallows hope. And I've felt hopeless lately.

My lack of faith has made me feel worthless and useless.

and I turn to Ecclesiastes, which I've been reading for almost two months now. The first month all I could focus on is the phrase "Everything is meaningless. ...a chasing after the wind." And my attitude reflected it. I didn't care, I didn't want, because everything was meaningless. Because I had it all planned out, my life and everything in between. I was going to be home for a short amount of time, work and save up money, then return back to the place where I buried my heart in the soil, dig it up, put it back in my chest, and live there for the rest of my life.

But life, as it would seem, rarely ever goes according to plan. And God never follows according to mine, He follows according to His. And life happens, it did happen, it is happening. I came home, got a job, a car, meant people and kids, fell in love, lived, fell apart, got my heart broke, found out Africa is just going to have to wait, sunk inside myself. And I think I wanted everything to stay the same until I was ready for it to change. But I'm realizing that I can't do that. That I can't expect the whole world to stand still until I'm ready. and Everything is not meaningless,  I am seeing that now, through watery eyes, we go through things to strengthen us, to draw us closer to God, to grow.

So I open it up again, Ecclesiastes, and I am mediating on the simple phrase; "There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens."

And it's a scary feelings, this letting go. It's the loneliest feeling in the world. I feel like I tend to find myself on the opposite end of the spectrum, that I'm constantly standing when everyone else is sitting. That everyone is looking at me and saying "what the heck is the matter with her?" Like I'm walking down an empty street, listening to the sound of my own footsteps, windows closed, blinds drawn, doors locked against me, and I'm not sure whether I'm walking toward something, or if I'm just walking away.

And I'm finding that my heart tends to swing back and forth between the need for routine and the urge to run. and that's okay. I know that God's got everything under control. I know that deep in my heart, even if at times I fail.

But Christians fail because Christians are people and people, like me, are not perfect. We slip up.  I don't know what else to tell you.

 i am constantly trying to find my feet.

And I am letting things go. I'm learning that it's okay to have unknowns. That it's time to let go of my job, of my car, it's time to let go of love that's not returned, to a life that i've been clinging to, to realize that sometimes I have to let go of the things and the people i so desperately want, to have empty hands to receive the things I so desperately need.

On November 14th 2013 I wrote in my journal; "Jump First, Fear Later." I don't know what happened to the girl that wrote that, but I can tell you now that I am seeing it's not really Faith unless it taste a bit like fear. and that I feel the fear, but leap anyways. And that's exactly what I'm doing.

It's time to move on. It's scary but it's what needs to be done. I'm not running away, I'm running into.

Into life, into possibilities, into new, exciting things, into His calling.

I need to stop holding hands with doubt, and  start letting go and trusting Him more. I need to loosen my grip on all those useless things and curl my fingers around His and jump.


It starts tonight.

I may not be brave, but He makes me courageous.





 Letting go of doubt and Holding on to Him,



HIS and yours,


  Cami

Growing in a Process of Love and Grace.

     I never imagined my story to look like this. Never imagined I'd be here in this moment and all the ones before this. Never thought I would be finding so much love in my heart. Never thought I'd be sharing Jesus in a bookstore in the middle of the Business section. Never thought I'd be leading and sharing Jesus' love with youth. Never thought that I'd be laying on my bedroom floor, my eyes tired, my body tired, my heart heavy, yet so overjoyed. And yet this is where I find myself when things become to heavy to carry. Face down on my bedroom floor. I seem to find rest in this place. Things just seem to get real down here. Things seem to open up, things seem to become lighter. And I imagine that Jesus is laying right beside me, His arm around my shoulders, His tears echoing mine, comforting, understanding, loving.

      And right now I should probably be sleeping. But I can't. Too much is going on in my mind. Too many thoughts. Too many emotions. Too many things. So much Jesus, so much Magnificent, and I just need to climb up in His lap, process through the past couple weeks, and rest my weary bones.

      Jesus must have a "Mary Poppins" bag of grace for me. Sometimes I wonder if He ever wants to knock me upside the head, or shake my shoulders until I can focus straight and see that He is revealing things, that He is working and He has and will continue to prepare me for the work that is to be done in and for His Kingdom.

       Honestly I don't feel like I do enough. I don't feel like I'm qualified to do the work He is calling me to do. I constantly question myself and my heart. Am I doing this for the right reasons? Am I doing this for Jesus? You see, this past weekend I "lead" a youth retreat… and I use the term "lead" extremely lightly, because I didn't do much leading… He did. But I knew there would be battles stepping into that role. because I'm young. Many times it felt like people didn't respect or didn't trust me to do what I was called to do, just for that reason. Because I am young. And I kept going back to the verse in 1 Timothy 4:12 "Don't let anyone look down on you because you are young, but set an example for the believers, in speech, in life, in love, in faith, and in purity." It made me lean on Him more, it made me realize that I'm an imperfect person called by a perfect Man.

and He reveled many things to me.

        I can get frustrated sometimes and forget in my emotions what He is calling me to. And He showed me this weekend that when I let go of the thoughts of others and cling to His thoughts and His nudging. Great things will follow.

     
This past weekend I got to work with amazing women, who made me laugh, cry, who prayed over me, encouraged me, and helped me see that my life is worth wasting for the Gospel. I got to meet and love on some amazing young women. I got to see many walk through struggles and come out the other side clinging to His robe. I got to hear testimonies of heart's healed, I got to see walls crumble and the enemy defeated. And that, in the end, triumph's over all my frustrating moments, over all my unqualified thoughts, over everything.

        I also got to see what goodbye feels like again, some of them I will never see again. And I realized that my big goodbye is drawing ever so close, and it's scary, and yet He is magnificent and sometimes it takes snot pouring from my nose, tears drenching my cheeks and being pulled into a room full of woman, them laying hands on me to confirm my calling even further.

      That even if I think I can't. I am wrong. It says in the Bible that God rescues and uses the dirty and the messy and the imperfect. It's all in His grace, the same grace that told David- the little harp playing boy, "You're Mine." to David the murderer adulterer "You're Mine." to Moses the unqualified, stuttering murderer, "You're Mine." to Paul who was also a murderer. He called all of them to Him. Throughout the Bible God calls the messy. The people who when called find excuses, just like me. And He's showing me that yeah, maybe I'm a mess, but I have something to offer.

And He's showing me through these past couple weeks that I am called to Him, called to be His hands and feet to His people, to His children.

       That there are these "little ones" every place. That they are coming, gathering with dirty faces and hurting hearts. That they maybe looking to me and not sure where to go or where else to look. And it's my job to teach them. to teach the people around me to stand firm. to Teach them to cling to Him. To teach them that it is okay to fail, and how to lean on Him to stand back up again. to point them to Jesus. Nothing gives me more joy in that. Nothing gave me more joy these past couple weeks than being with these youth and seeing the way that Jesus moves in them. lives in them, and loves them. Because at the end of the day, Faith is a funny thing. It just turns up when you don't really expect it.

      And I'm realizing that the fairytale I imagined is vastly different in the arms of my Jesus. That I don't have to know everything in order to live a brave and beautiful life. I just need to lean on Him.

That His plans are far greater and His calling on my life is far bigger.

     That I got to experience glimpses into Heaven these past couple weeks, fall in love with strangers, To see that Love is not simply something we feel, it's something that surrounds us, and nothing could ever compare to the love that has surrounded me.

       He is calling me, everyday to be Jesus, He is asking me to sacrifice and let go of things I am holding onto. And I'm realizing, slowly, that it's starting to not feel like a sacrifice, it's starting to feel like love.

   And I think I am just going to curl up with my dog and rest in that love.

A love that takes me anywhere...





Finding Rest,


 HIS and yours,

  Cami

Ripped Quilts and Broken Joy.

"There's no such thing as a painless lesson. They just don't exist. Sacrifices are necessary. You can't gain anything without losing something first, although if you can endure that pain and walk away from it, you'll find that you now have a heart strong enough to over come any obstacle"     -Edward Elric.

God is absolutely, magnificently awe-inspiring. And life is and I think will constantly be a funny sort-a-thing. Just when I think I've got it all figured out, just when I finally begin to plan something, get excited about something, and feel like I know what direction I'm heading in. the paths change, the signs change, the wind blows the other way, north is suddenly south, and east is west, and I feel so lost. and it is so easy to lose my way, to lose direction. And God's constantly hunkering down next to me, saying "look, listen, I am your center, I am your guide. I am that star. Look for me, follow me, and I will guide you home."

And I haven't been writing as much as I used to. It seems now-a-days everyone has a blog and everyone has something to say. And I've been thinking more and more maybe it's time to just hang it all up, call it quits. Put the cap on the pen, push away the crumpled papers, and walk away. I never intended to write for people to read, or for people to follow. I just wanted to write. I write to discover me. to remove the chaos in my brain, the clutter of words, which flow so freely onto paper and make so much more sense to me in ink, rather than in thought.

Maybe I'm not a writer after all. No one ever sat me down and said "Cameron, you're a writer, that's what you are and that's what you will be." They said I was writing material, but never a writer. And I think that as I've been meditating on HIM more and revisiting my life through journals from years past I think it started to become a theme. People constantly telling me what kind of material I have and what kind I don't. "You're teaching material, but you're horrible at being in front of people." "You're writing material, but it's just too raw, too chunky." "You're missionary material, but you hate to fly and you're too shy." "You're marriage material, but definitely don't fit in the 'dateable' category." blah blah blah blah blah… It goes on and on and I'm left clutching onto so many different fabrics, so many different materials, wondering what it all even means.

And a lot of times it seems like I spend too much time stitching up my heart after I've opened it up once again, then stitching up all this "material" I have clutched so tightly in my hands. And it scares me to death to think that one day I might look back at my life and realized that I lived it painfully ordinary. That instead of looking to my north star, to my Jesus, I spent too much time staring down at a mismatched quilt, wondering what it meant.

It wasn't until this last week that I unclenched my hands from all that material, let it fall from my lap and walked forward.

This past week I returned to a place I was in 9 years ago, a place where I first received my calling to spend my life serving God. And I was able to see what I am made of. What HE has made me for.

I got to spend time with amazing young women. Who brought me so much joy, who made me laugh and cry. Who helped me to grow and learn that God has called me to people, no matter where I am at. That my joy in that moment was made complete with these girls, talking and listening to their hearts. These young women are world changers, and I am and have been so blessed to be a small part of their lives this year. No words can express the huge amount of love I've harbored in my heart for each one of them. I hold them close, which makes this joy so hard, which makes this joy feel so broken. because I know for the moment I am here, but moments are fleeting and when God's voice beckons me away, I must go.

But in these moments of broken joy I see that tattered, ripped quilt down at my feet. And Jesus is throwing a robe around my shoulders, That I keep asking Him why I risk losing so much love. Loving this way can be risky and yet… great love is risky. That constantly we are told to take love and use it to gain things, for an advantage. But Love is not for gain, love is for losing. That to be a leader, I must be a servant. That to gain, I must lose. To toss my love across the seas, across oceans of heart and tidal waves of hands. That I must live radical in the now, with what I have. because living radical isn't about the place I live but it's about how I love. That I will not be waiting until the next time I'm on an airplane to risk love. I do it now. To these girls, to my other co- leaders, to my co-workers, to my family, to my friends, to every person I come in contact with.

Because God's love never allows dust to settle in my heart!

I must risk my life. Because ultimately I know I will be totally secure in Jesus. In whatever He is calling me towards, in the now, in the moments, and in the ones to come. That if this service and sacrifice will make Jesus look big, if it will fulfill Jesus' purposes, if it will communicate Jesus to the people around me and to the world. Than I will be all for it.

And it's hard and it's horrible when your heart is somewhere your body is not, but Jesus is calling me to Him now, my heart in His hands, teaching me, listening to me, crying with me, cradling with me, talking to me, reminding me that He is the ultimate love giver. That all the materials people tried to sew onto me do not define me. That His plan and purpose is awesome and where I am now is where I am suppose to be. To wait on Him.

So here I am, standing in the midst of a tattered, ripped quilt and wrapping myself tighter into His robes. He is cradling my broken joy close in His arms, And I'm ready. I'm ready to risk it. to be a servant, to lose, to have my life wrecked beyond recognition.

Here I am. Not unsteady, but a little unsure. Not impatient, but unmoving. Not hiding. Waiting.


Dancing in Joy and Tattered Quilts,


 HIS and yours,


  Cami

The Chaos Inside...

      “There are a hundred things she has tried to chase away the things she won’t remember and that she can’t even let herself think about because that’s when the birds scream and the worms crawl and somewhere in her mind it’s always raining a slow and endless drizzle.
You will hear that she has left the country, that there was a gift she wanted you to have, but it is lost before it reaches you. Late one night the telephone will sing, and a voice that might be hers will say something that you cannot interpret before the connection crackles and is broken.”  
                                - Neil Gaiman

     

         How do you calm a storm, when it seems the waves have overtaken all. How do you swim through tides that grab hold of ankles and pull you undertow. How do you breathe the water out through your lungs without it burning in the process. How do you contain the chaos underneath, when above seems so calm? My thought exist much like the chaos below the oceans surface, seemingly quiet while and entire universe scurries about beneath the deep blue water. And sometimes I can't control it, sometimes I can't contain it. Sometimes they overwhelm me and I wonder how to express them to people without fear of being judge, or sounding crazy, or wondering if they will finally lose their idea of me and just see me, as I am, with no pretense. 

     And my heart aches and burns for good thoughts, for a clear mind; unadulterated. But lies sneak in, and sadness comes in waves and washes through like heavy tides, and anger seeps through cracks I thought were sealed tight with glue. And sometimes I just have to let go and say, I'm broken, in need of healing, in need of grace and I'm tired of trying to be this wonderful person, this ideal person, that I don't want to be indifferent, I just want to be honest.

    Honest in a way that says this past year has been one of the roughest I've ever experienced, that since coming home I've struggled constantly with losing sight of who Jesus is. Because all too often I don't see Him here, and it scares me and burdens me and makes me wonder where my eyes are looking, or if I'm looking at all. Since coming home I've ached with a deep unexplainable sadness, a longing for something more than what is and as I continue to cry out to God and search out my calling more and more, I'm seeing that I've spent years "at home" meeting people without ever knowing them and that hurts.

      And it hurts the way it does because I have so many words in my head, and there are too many ways to describe the way I feel. I keep crying out to God and asking Him where to start, where to go, and this year has been an echo of stillness. And I feel like I will never have this luxury of a dull ache. That I must suffer through the intricacies of feeling too much.

   Because I've seen too much, know too much, heard stories and fell in love with countries and people so so different from me, I've lost touch with who I am supposed to be here. That I have become a drifter, and as lonely as that can be sometimes, it is also remarkably freeing. That I am learning I never have to define myself in terms of anyone else, and yet when I'm here I find I do, I find that I forget too easily who God has called me to be and instead try to lean into what people are asking me to be. 

 
    I don't want to. I want to see Jesus here, but I feel clouded and weighed down. I have seen Jesus more clearly in the dirt and grime. But everyone here, in their facades, are scrubbed clean. I've seen Jesus in the people being hurt and mistreated, of the poor, the weak, the sick, the meek hearted and broken people. I have seen Jesus there more than I have in any church building here. In the sterile, clean, perfect environments we try so hard to keep as a "church."

   
       And I've never been so hurt and burnt by people and churches since coming home, the embrace that is talked about was an arms length pat on the head. The love and support that they flock to "new-comers" is disregarded to a lost and wandering single young woman, searching for her heart that has been lost to another country. It's hard to trust a church that proclaims to be Jesus, when Jesus is the last thing I've ever seen. 

   
        It's hard swimming through these oceans of thought, when I'm coming up to one of the biggest decisions in my life and God is pushing me and calling me forth and I crave for companionship, the way He created me for, for someone to grab my hand squeeze it tight and say "I love you, I support you 100 % and I will be here for you, while you're away and when you return." But I can't, because life happens and two years is a long time to ask for someone to wait, to love you when you're not around, and to lean in close and watch you go through your high and lows. It's to much to ask for… Isn't it? I don't know. 

   
        Maybe, just maybe, this is the sacrifice I kept feeling I was going to have to make. To look at my life and the people I love and have fallen in love with and ask them to not wait, to move on. Because who know's what could happen, and it scares the life out of me and keeps me questioning God. What about my family, what about my future, what about my relationships….

     And then I realize the problem…. I'm constantly using the word my, or mine… when in the end it's not mine… it's His, it and them and everything in between is His. It always has been and always will be. And I just keep testing my heart and listening to people who help me grow and teach me new ways of thinking. And Jesus keeps nudging me closer to that day where I don't have to wait any longer. He's leading me in this direction for a reason, He's putting these people in my life for a reason, no one, no thing is an accident and I just need to soak it all in, try and calm the ocean of my mind, ask Him to calm my storms and step out of the boat and enjoy the moments now. 

 
     This past year including these last couple months I've experience so many beautiful and strange things. I've been so joyful, and also super sad, I've learned about love and heartbreak, I've grown to understand my calling. I've seen the importance of my family, and the miraculous way God puts people in my life at the exact times I need them, even if it hurts. 

 
       It's been a roller coaster of a ride. But Life is kind of an uphill battle, like climbing a mountainside, some days I will have to go over rocks and messy foothills and other days will be a nice scenic hike, but no matter the way, eventually I will reach that top and see how far He has taken me.

        Until that day, I'll continue to attempt to live the way He has called me. To Love freely, with reckless abandonment, embracing those around me, whoever they may be, wherever I may be. I know He's got it all figured out, so I'm letting Him calm the chaos and take control of this worn out weathered storm. 

    Seeking Calm in the Storm,

   HIS and yours,

       Cami 

Against the Current.

       

  My feet won't move. They're heavy, feeling like they've been glued to the ground. And for a moment I can feel my heart speed up and panic begin to set in. Everything around me is black and white, with shades of grey. There is no color where I stand. People surround me, and at first they are walking slow, crowding me, they move faster and faster around me. I wave my hands at them and pull at my legs, willing someone or something to help me move, to get me out of here. I try to grab someone's arm, but they don't see me, they don't feel me. I am invisible.

          I look down at my hands, they're tan and I can see the blue in my veins. There is color on my clothes and my shoes, color in my hair, and I can feel short breaths escaping through my open mouth. I don't understand. Everything around me is boring, black and white and shades of grey. And although I can't move I can feel myself being pulled by them. the mass of fast people, consumed by wherever they think they need to be, or whatever technology seems to be in their hands. They don't see me here, standing full in color, in a black and white world. 

        Frustration and anxiety are getting the best of me, I'm becoming impatient standing in this place, I just want everyone to see and feel color the way I do, to leave the shades of grey behind. But they don't want to, they ignore me, or maybe I am really invisible. The thought sinks and floats in my mind and I can feel the current of people begin to pull me their direction, I can feel myself wanting what they have, consistency, distractions, and when I look down at my shoes they are no longer a checker board of color, but are now black and white. My heart is aching to move, to go a different way, to push through these people, so focused on their one direction, and run. 

    I will my feet to move, everything in me pulls them loose from the ground, and the moment I do people are coming at me from all sides. Their walking had become a way to trap me here, they circle me and try to push me further in their direction. They see me now, and I am out of place. But I scream and yell and tell them there is a better way to walk, a better way to go. I squeeze through people. Pushing through the current of bodies to the place I feel I need to be, a place in the opposite direction, a place no one else seems to be going.

    And I can feel the sweat down my back and my breath short from using so much strength. My arms are tired from pushing through people, from grabbing hands and pulling my way through. The crowd seems to thin out and I'm standing in front of a mirror. and as I look at myself, I can see I am a mess, but I also see something else. There are streaks of grey across my arms and my face. I'm scared and I can feel it. But when I turn around and look behind me, there is color. Color covering things, Covering buildings, and streets, and people. And the people are no longer walking in one single direction, but in every which way a person could imagine. There is a person looking at me and he has green eyes, another woman with bright red lipstick. little pieces, with little color, but nonetheless no more black and white with shades of grey. It's black and white with hints of color, shades of grey with brightness.

       I can't help but feel overwhelmed with joy and so much love. That if I would have never pushed against the current, no one would know or see what color is, what color feels like. That I, like them, would have been lost in my own world, caught up in black and white, and boring shades of grey. 

    Now, when I look back toward the mirror there is a door… and I know that I must continue on, although I have so much love for this place now, I know there is much more to do, because I'm not done sharing this color with the world. So I smile at myself and push the door and walk into blackness that will soon be exploding with light. 

     I open my eyes and I am staring at my bedroom's ceiling. My breath is labored and my legs heavy as if I just ran miles. I've been having this dream for months now it seems. And every morning after I wake up from it, I feel this heavy burden of what my life is to be like, and I find myself asking lots of questions and wondering what it all means. 

   

Constantly I am being told to be who I am meant to be, to be true to myself and everything will work out fine. But "Be what I am meant to be, true to myself" When I really think about it, I have no idea what that even means, but I do know that I'm not happy with how things are right now and how things have been turning out. I have questions. Lots of questions. And the answers that people seem to be giving me just seem to fall flat. Like maybe the people who are giving them don't even believe in what they're saying. What I really want is someone to show me that all of this matters. That there is a much better way to live and to love. To show me that the way of Jesus is better. 

    There has been so much going on in my life lately. Things that have made me happy or frustrated. It seems sometimes I tend to overcommit myself and then get stretched thin. Sometimes it feels as if I'm wasting my life, like I'm in a standstill and I'm not impacting anyone or anything, and those days are the rough ones, the worst ones. And sometimes there are days where I can feel Jesus right next to me, leading me where I need to go. 

   But lately it's been a journey of questions. Right now there are three paths laid out in front of me and I'm constantly trying to figure out which one is the right one. And honestly, I think they all are, I think no matter which way I go God is going to be right there with me. One is Africa, of course, it's a deep seeded desire to return back to a place my heart resides. And not because I think I have the privilege to go, but because I feel like I am who I was made to be when I am there. I can't explain it. The other two are harder to explain, they involve leaving Africa behind, for now, and taking up a life stateside, one involves a lot of waiting and the other understanding. 

    I just want someone to be able to tell me that right now in this standstill, it is not a waste, that even though it seems like I am doing nothing to impact the people around me, to love and show Jesus to the people around me, that in some miraculous way, I am meeting people where they are at, that I am shining the light and sharing HIS love. 

     And maybe it will be like my dream. That when it comes time to move on from this moment, I will look behind and see the pieces of Jesus scattered all over and I will see the pieces that I've left and no doubt there will be pieces of others embedded in my life and my heart. Because I know you can't leave a place and not be affected by it. And I guess my prayer is that in all that I am doing here, even when I feel I am being stretched thin that I am leaving Jesus and showing Jesus and carrying Jesus close to my heart. That I leave HIM behind, but don't forget to take Him with me. 

   That I continue to go against the current, to be true to who I am in HIM, He will lead me the way I'm supposed to go, no matter what path it may be. I choose HIM.

 Going Against the Current,

  HIS and yours,

      Cami 

here's to new beginnings...

As I've become older, I've begun to see that I lose things much too easy and much faster than I used to. Lose faith in people, in love, in faith, in finding happiness, and even in myself. That there have been these moments where everything seems to be accelerated; and it feels as if I don't have very much time left to accomplish everything I desire to do with my one precious life. I feel rushed to find a career and a soulmate and do the things i'm "supposed to do" I feel rushed to settle down.

but i don't want to settle down. ever.

And i have this innate fear of settling. Settling with a job because I tell myself that I need to get my life started instead of quitting job after job, trying to find something I love, and I don't even know where to begin. That i will lower my expectations of what love should be because I've lost faith that such a great love could exist and a deep part of me still doesn't want to end up "alone." That I will lose the faith i have in Him and in myself, because some days are dark and feel hopeless and I feel like i can no loner accomplish or change the world the way I once thought I could.

Me, one messy, clumsy, measly little girl. 

And I don't think it will ever happen. I will admit I'm a little too proud to settle, I'm a little too stubborn to work at something I don't love and a little to protective to let myself just love anyone. and I'm a little too dependent on Him to ever let Him go. But that being said, it's easy in this dark and dusty place we call the world, to lose things. to let go of hope, happiness, faith, love, because of hurt. pain. anger. loss. 

The world sinks it's teeth deep into our flesh, breaking the top layer of skin all the way through the veins and into our bones and sucks the marrow out of life. and all to often I have found that I let it. I pull back my sleeve, stick my arm out to the wolves and let their teeth sink deep. because I am a coward. too afraid to stand and fight off those wolves. 

I am a coward. I am afraid. and I hate it. 

I am sick and tired of walking around as the shy, timid, sweet girl. I'm tired of my lips being dry and my voice quivering in fear. I'm tired of thinking that things don't work out because I am the problem. I'm tired of finding a way to blame myself for everything, of being unhappy all the time, of moping around in this state of sadness and hopelessness. I'm sick. sick. sick and tired of being a coward. A coward to the world and a coward to myself. 

I don't want to be a shy timid sweet girl. I want to be loud, bold, unashamed and reckless. I want to have the courage to say what I mean and mean what I say. To hold steady to the truths I know deep within my heart, instead of quivering in fear at the first sign of trouble. God did not give me a spirt of timidity, so I shouldn't be covered in one. He gave me a spirt of power and of love and of self-discipline; and that's what I should be walking in. 

Constantly I let myself be overcome by the enemy and this past year it's been easy for him to find the cracks and fill it with his fear and his cowardice. But enough is enough. 

We are not here to be overcome. but to rise, unvanquished after every knockout blow, and laugh the laugh of faith, not fear. To stand boldly, courageously in the devil's face and laugh, a belly full of laughter, one full of joy, one full of faith, one full of Jesus' and remind him that he can not defeat us. That he cannot defeat Jesus, because He who is in us is greater than the he who is in the world. and always will be.

It's a new year, which means new beginnings. I don't have resolutions, I want to be a revolution. I want to be His hands and his feet. I want to be the one bringing the good news to the poor, be the one to help bind up the brokenhearted, and stand up for justice in this dark and dusty, fallen world. I want to be a revolution. 

So I challenge myself to be BOLD. to stand out. to be different. to stand tall, to no longer shy away. He is calling me right now to do that which He created only me to do. So I will courageously go. 

This is the point, where He brings me face to face with my fears and face to face with the truth and I must choose to have the courage to trust in the pouring out of His love and truth. This is where I step off the cliff I've so safely glued myself to… and where I finally leap into His arms. That is faith living, that is going boldly, jumping fearlessly, knowing He will never leave nor forsake. 

I trust Him with all my heart. 

here's to new beginnings…

HIS and yours,

 Cami 

Crying in the Bathroom Stall

…drip

…drip

…drip

The faucet slowly releases little droplets of water into the tub.

…splish

…splash

They hit the cold porcelain and find their way to the drain. 

Lately it has felt like I am curled up in scalding water in a porcelain tub. The steam burning my skin and water enveloping me as I sink underneath, holding my breath until my lungs burn. My head filled with liquid, shutting out the rush of the world. silence. so much silence.

and I've come to know silence well. Because when you sit in silence long enough, you learn that silence has a motion. It glides over you without shape or form, but with weight, exactly like water. 

and that weight has become heavy, oh so heavy upon my back and upon chest, upon my eyes and upon my heart. The silence of me. the silence of people. and at times it seems the silence of God. 

Someone found me in the bathroom stall today; head between my knees, sobs throughout my chest, crouched down, leaking tears all over the floor. They thought I was sick or injured, no, just overwhelmed. I was just cursed and yelled at on the phone for our store not having a book in stock for someone's Christmas present. 

People are brutal. 

But it hasn't been just that one time. This has happened many times. The short tones, the huffs over the phone, as if it is my fault that this gift will not be hand delivered to the person. And no matter how much I apologize, no matter how much help I offer. I'm still just a "stupid f***ing customer service bitch who doesn't know how to do my job." And one can only take so much, until words start to sink in, until words start to wound. Until one is found crying in a bathroom stall. 

Just shake it off, brush it off your shoulders. but I can't and I won't, my heart is a sensitive one. and people...

People are brutal. 

and I keep thinking, God I did not come home for this. God where are you in this? And I can't seem to find Him, I can't seem to hear Him. I want guidance, I crave it, desire it, and yet I feel like I'm wandering waywardly in the dark, my hands out in front of my face, praying I won't hit anything that will damage me too badly. 

Over and over in my head I hear, "We do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal." 

and deep down I know He is here. and it seems I am so deep inside, I see no end in sight, and no distance. and maybe, just maybe I'm not suppose to. but i want to.

I want an end to the madness. To the brutality of people against other people. an end to customer service. 

I want an end to the debate over what is a sin and what is not. 

I want an end to being so lost in the world, that I lose who I am in Jesus. 

He did not come so that we could live a cushioned lifestyle. He came so that we could lose our lives so He could save them. He came to turn our lives upside down, so that they could be right side up. and our heads are stuck so far into our own lives, into our television sets of reality TV, that we are lost to the reality of the REAL world. 

to the massacres in Syria. 

to the empty hearts in America

to the the desperate needs of those around us.

in every country.

on every continent. 

we are blind to what really matters. 

and we push and shove to get the next best iPhone or whatever, but we're not pushing and shoving to fall at the feet of Jesus. to love on the lost, the damned, the oppressed. there is no pushing and shoving all I see is running and fleeing. 

We are all sinner in need of saving grace, and sometimes through His silence He is showing me that grace is what I need to learn more about. Of receiving it and giving it. Because it's not easy to be grace giving, it's not easy to tell someone to have a nice day after they scream and yell and curse at you on the phone. 

But it's all in trust. all in faith. Faith, a choice that doesn't feel like a choice, because love is always greater than the sum of it's evidence. Love is always greater. He is love. and I am called to love, even through the silent moments. 

My heart is hurting. But I need to step out of my porcelain tub, unlock the bathroom stall and just keep on going. keep on pushing and shoving through, reaching out my hands, even if it seems dark, to the people God is calling me too. Even those unruly customers on the telephone. 

Because We are faithful to Him who is faithful... because of who He is. because He's worth all of it, whether we feel it or not, we are to be His hands and His feet.

There is a God to know.

There are people to love, to listen to, to clothe, to care for, to feed. 

They are both friends and total strangers, both next-door neighbors and brother and sisters across the oceans. 

There are mouths to feed, feet to get dirty and hands to hold, children to love.

Going in Faith.

But it is all grace anyway. the giving and the gift- grace.

We ask, and He gives

and gives.

Sometimes when we want it, and sometimes when we need it, Sometimes the same, sometimes different.

But there is always Grace.

And sometimes you have to be crying on the bathroom floor, to finally hear a break in the silence.

"Be still. I am here." 

my bones are tired, but they're still shaking. My heart is torn, but it's done breaking. My hope is set on things unseen. 

HIS and yours,

 Cami