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

Titles are Dumb. When I Can't Explain.

Lately it feels like I'm wearing a nice dark shade of exhaustion under my eyes. That the days feel like weeks and the weeks feel like months and the months feel like years. Everything crawling at a snail's pace of slower than slow, and I'm stuck in this ever rotating feeling of overwhelmed, slowness, sadness, exhaustion. And I'm a sad pile of loneliness. Trying to find my feet in this ever-shifting world, trying to relocate my dependence on God and wondering when I made the decision that I could detach myself from His ever-loving graceful arms, and still think I could function in the day-to-day hustle of life and hard knocks.

And there are many moments where I feel I just don't belong to this place anymore. That the things I thought I'd miss aren't really here anymore and the cravings of community and relationships and people who take genuine interest in my life, my struggles, and my ever-changing and growing relationship with Christ are few and far between. And I find lately I've been replacing my heart space with complaining and wishing people would just once, be REAL, rather than taking that space and filing it with Jesus. This is my problem.

More than anything, I need Jesus. I don't know what life would be like without Him. I need Him like air in my lungs and my sweaters on the cold days. He is my breath, my strength, my warmth, and yet in the valley's of life, in the suffering moments, I think, nah, Jesus you take a seat on the bench, you stand in the on deck circle and let me take a few swings at life first. Why.... Why do I do this?

There's this idea that we must be happy, do what makes us happy, live happy. just be happy. But what if that's not it, what if we are not made to be eternally and forever happy about situations in life. Sometimes I don't want to smile and pretend like everything is okay when i have decision to make and the walls of life feel like they are crumbling all around me. Sometimes I want to crawl into bed and sleep for days, sometimes I just want my mom to be here to hug me and tell me that it's okay to be sad, or my dad to tell me I'm brave and strong and that everything will work out fine, or my sister to tell me to stop being a giant baby, punch me in the arm, and tell me to keep going on. Sometimes you want these things and most times you just can't have them. And I'm learning how to deal with that.

I'm learning how to make decisions on my own, learning that sometimes I will be sad, sometimes I will be in pain, and sometimes i will be happy. That it is okay to feel everything so deeply, the way that I do. That life comes at you fast and you have to roll with the punches and have a lot of faith in what you cannot see, because someday you just might see it and it will be a glorious thing.

The hardest part of this season in my life has been accepting that my heart feels broken in the presence of a good God. That the sadness and the loneliness sometimes overwhelm me to the point that I wonder what good it is doing in my life, I wonder if Jesus can feel the heaviness inside my soul. The heaviness of the lives of the people around me, the weights I bear and the breaths I struggle to take as I tread this murky and choppy waters.

But I also have to remember who He is, and lately I've been so discouraged by the people who are His followers, who claim to know and love Jesus, that I've been neglecting who He is in my life. That I've let the busyness of the day to day and my studies and my own selfish desires get in the way of the beauty of what He's made in me and what He is doing.

And yet there is this tremendous relief in knowing His love for me is utterly realistic, based at every point on prior knowledge of the worst about me. That He's seen the things I've done and knows the things I will do and yet looks at me and says "Cameron, I love you, I love your messy life, I love your wayward heart and I'm calling you back to me."

And so I run. and I keep running. and I learn, and I'm still learning. That sometimes we're the hands, sometimes we're the feet. sometimes we're the ones helping, and sometimes we're the ones in need. But whatever we do in life, we work towards the glory and the goal of the Kingdom. That in the the end, the grades I've received on my exams won't matter and the hours of volunteering i acquire is not as important as Jesus. as people seeing Him, even in my sadness and my loneliness.

That He is the one who is elevated above all. Yeah, it's easier said than done, and somedays the days defeat me and I'm a cranky ole' woman. but you know what, Jesus is still there, tugging on my heart strings, tugging me along this rocky path. Cause life is a journey that we don't travel alone. He is with us always. Even when we can't feel Him, He asks us to open our eyes, to really look and to really see, that He is a work even in the messy, sad, lonely, crapy moments.

So I'm learning this, through tears, through laughter, through angry thoughts. I'm learning that He is the ultimate carrier of burdens and I must drop the weights, must drop my five gallon buckets I carry and trust Him to carry me in return. I mean, He holds the whole world, so I'm pretty sure He can hold me. right?!?


So I let go and let His river's current take me where I need to go.



HIS and yours,




 Cami

The Widow Ruth; A Radiating Light.

Ruth.

            In Hebrew the name Ruth means companion, or friend, or a vision of beauty.

Ruth.

A name that’s been floating around in my head a lot lately, a lot more than usual, and I just can’t seem to shake this name, to shake her face from the images in my mind. And I’m wondering where she is right now? What she is doing? Is she gardening with the other widows? Is she taking care of her many children? Is she picking mangos and placing them into hands of complete strangers, the way she did with me? Is she even still alive? Or is she up in heaven, dancing on golden streets with Jesus? These question plague me, because deep down I know I may never know the answers.

In these moments and small memories, I’m seeing how much this little old widow impacted my life. In the very limited time I spent with her, she allowed me to see myself in a different light, in a loving light. She looked at me like I was wanted, like I was needed. Me, a complete stranger. She made me feel at home in the palm of her hands. Her rough hands holding tightly to mine, dragging me along a path to a garden and to houses and to mango trees. All the while chatting away in a language I yearned to understand. And I remember her uttering a singe phrase and clinging tightly to my hand. I smiled at her and nodded pretending like I understood. And the pastor we were with, turned and said “Cami, do you understand what she just told you?”  I laughed and said “No.”

And the pastor looked between me and Ruth and smiled and said “She said ‘in you daughter, I see the radiance of Christ.”

I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes. In no way did I ever feel like I was radiating Christ, I constantly felt dirty and grimy, like I was constantly in the way. And yet even in those dirty, disgusting, selfish moments, God broke through and shed his light onto the face of a widow.

 And I just hope I’m still radiating.

           I hope that this bright light hasn’t burnt out in the whirlwind of this world and of this life. That even if it has dulled, it’s still burning and shining through in all my moments. That Christ is being radiated from my life.

Why am I sharing this story?

Because my heart hurts, it aches to know where Ruth is, how her health is, how her children are, how her garden is? It yearns to ask these question, to hold the worn hands of my companion, my friend, this vision of beauty in an otherwise dim hard ugly moment of my life.

But not only that. It’s because I think we often forget how much we can impact the lives around us. It’s been two years and I still remember the words Ruth spoke into my life. I still remember the feel of her overworked hands in my delicate ones. I remember her laughter and her brown eyes, and the way her hair was wrapped up in her conga. I can’t forget her.

Recently in small groups we were talking about the Healing at Bethesda. And this got me thinking a lot about how graceful Jesus is. Jesus sought out this crippled man and asked him if he wanted to be healed and then healed him. He spoke words into his life that caused this man to pick up his mat and walk. Was this man worthy of healing, no not really. He turned around and betrayed Jesus, like Judas, to the Jewish leaders. And yet look at HIS grace. He heals him anyway, evening knowing that this once crippled man will use this gift, this healing of his legs to walk right to the leaders and tell them it was Jesus!

Jesus seriously blows my mind!

You see I started comparing this story to my own life. I was, am, and sometimes I know will continue to be this invalid man by the pool, waiting for someone to pick me up and take me where I need to go. That I am unworthy of the healing being offered, because in my heart I know, just like the crippled man, that I will betray Jesus again. And it hurts.

But I’ve seen this story in John take root in my life. With Ruth. At the time of meeting Ruth I was battling, I was sick of everything I was. And then words were spoken into my life that caused healing in my heart and continue to heal me every day since then. And I believe that Jesus reached through Ruth to me. And How do you tell a woman 8000 miles away that Jesus has used her, continues to use her. That in her I see the radiance of Christ. Every single day of my life.

You see like in John, the man couldn’t find anyone to lift him into the pool, and I couldn’t find anyone to fulfill the emptiness I kept seeing in my worthlessness. But Jesus, met the man where he was at, and Ruth grabbed my hand and pulled me back to Christ all the way in Tanzania.

Because even though the man had no way to get to Jesus. Jesus could get to him. And in that time in my life and even now, there are days I just can’t seem to get there. Can’t seem to reach Him. But even thought I can’t get to Jesus, He can always, always get to me. He never fails, never gives up.

And lately I’ve been feeling like I just don’t belong in this place. I feel lonesome, not alone, just lonesome. And Jesus keeps reaching out and tugging me along, reminding me what I’m here for, what my life is for.

I was not made to live a luxurious life, to have the fancy cars and clothes and money. I was made to walk barefoot on unknown roads, to meet people where they are, just like Him. I was made to follow in His footsteps, to live a life set apart.

And it’s so not easy. The desires of this world often overtake me. I stress, I panic, I anguish. And yet He is here walking with me. And I hear the words in Sakuma in my head and then translated into English. “In you daughter I see the radiance of Christ.”

I just hope that I can continue to live out the words that Ruth saw. That I can continue to meet people where they are and speak words of love, encouragement, and Jesus into their lives. That regardless of how bad I think things are, Jesus makes it better.

            That I continue to stretch the limits of my faith, knowing that Jesus is pulling me along, that I’m going to be just fine and wherever He decides to take me and whoever He places in front of me, I will reach out in love no matter what. I will be slow to anger and abounding in love.

            My hope is that this radiance that Ruth saw, seeps into every motion and ever fiber of my being. That wherever Ruth is, she will see this radiance in herself and others will see it to. We never know how we impact the people around us, and we never know how the people around impacts us.

            But isn’t it such a beautiful story when Jesus reaches down and meet us where we’re at.

            Sitting in Awe of the Wonders of His Love,

HIS and yours,

 Cami