It’s been a while, I know. A lot has changed since my last post, my life has certainly taken a new direction, or rather I’m further along in a direction I did not previously realize I was on. So, for those who aren’t connected to me on social media, here are a few quick updates:
- I graduated cum laude from Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary with a Masters of Arts in Religion
- I resigned my job as Events & Experience Manager at the foster care nonprofit that I worked with since 2014
- I was appointed senior pastor of my home church, Love Fellowship Ministries, and assumed that role in November 2021
- I began the journey towards a Doctor in Ministry in the Workplace Theology & Ethical Leadership track
- Purchased a condo at the top of the quarantine, and after 18 months of heartbreaking disappointments I am now living in and enjoying the feeling of escape it affords
That last update has inspired this post, convicted me even.
Packing up a place you’ve lived in for decades is sure to include nostalgic breaks. That moment when you come across a gift someone gave you, or a note you made, or a mark on the floor because of that incident, or that shirt you bought for that special moment – the process of packing up a place triggers memories that pull you in. I thought I would escape those breaks as I had previously gone through decades of memories and tossed most of them out a few years ago, but it seemed I missed some crucial ones then. Just yesterday I came across so many things that reminded me of moments, conversations, events, emotions – the girl I was. One such as one of many notebooks I’ve kept over the years.
I used to write, a lot. Journal entries, poems, songs, sermon or Bible Study notes, event plans, thoughts, and even business ideas. This one notebook I found paused my packing for longer than intended as I flipped through pages of prayers, emotion-filled thoughts, poems (even a commissioned poem), letters, and songs. I marveled at my pen, the way I captured my thoughts so vividly I was transported to 2004 – 2006. Melodies of songs came rushing back, details of relationships came clearly into view and I wondered, “Camille, what happened?”
I know I’m not alone in this. I know you’ve had times where nostalgia has caused you to wonder, “who am I and where is the person I used to be?”
Here, at the beginning of the second half of 2023, I believe together we can make it a pivotal moment. Life has certainly caused us to morph into versions of ourselves that may be a distant glimpse of who we once were. For some of us, the present seems dim and gloomy in comparison to what was, and for others of us the present eclipses our wildest dreams. Wherever you fall on the spectrum I invite you, as I invite myself, to start back at you regularly. Ever so often, take a moment to reflect and be sure that where you are, who you are now, is who you truly are created to be.
These days most of my writing is for a sermon and, if I can get my brain to kick into gear, academic. Today I am deciding that Cami will return to Cami – the writer of ideas, poems, songs, and plans. How about you?
Tek care,
Camille.
Cami Speaks 