About Camping Out

Welcome to something else entirely. To be honest, I really don’t know what we’re getting ourselves into. This is not a place for answers. It’s not a place to feel tidy and simple and obvious. It’s not a place where we walk away totally satisfied and…

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About Melissa

You’ve landed on this page out of cynicism or curiosity. One of the first things I always do before I read just about anything is try to figure out who the author is. And depending on what I’m reading, I’ll look for a few…

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Resources

They say that writing is 90% reading. I’m certain that what influences us is what we use to influence others. Therefore, I’ve made this handy little list of the things that I’m reading and listening to and paying attention to in the hopes it…

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Keep Going.

So, it’s Lent. Winter is slowly giving way to Spring and we’re met with snow on Monday and rain on Tuesday and sun on Wednesday. This is an insane time of year and somehow it feels just about right for this season of discipline…

Posted on March 23, 2018 by

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Healed.

This isn’t a blog post I thought I would write. I was convinced that it would never happen. I planned my life around it never happening. But then, 238 days ago, I was healed. And I wish I could tell you that I, like…

Posted on January 25, 2018 by

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Resolved.

I’ve been on the road again, wandering through airports and streets I’ve never seen, reconnecting to family and friends out west. I’ll be home soon, but today I find myself along the Olympic Peninsula, on the edge of the water near the woods on…

Posted on January 7, 2018 by

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This is the kind of photo some might roll their eyes at. Just some kind-of-matching people laughing at sunset without a care in the world. But here’s the thing: these are people who have become so dear. In the last 4 days they have laughed with me, eaten with me, helped me carry bags, shown me they see me, embraced me, spoken truth and literally held me while I cried. They are a force to be reckoned with and we team up twice a year to cheer on others and it’s our biggest joy. The challenger, the singer, the counselor, the sister, the honest one, the joyful one, the humble one, the hero mom, the dreamer, the preacher, the coach and the gracious friend. They might seem a little cliché at first glance, but deep down, they’re grit and character and hard-fought battles. They are a gift and if I can just get them all to move to Nashville, I’ll be set.
I have lived in a few cities the last few years and the church communities I’ve found have been the greatest gifts of each new place. My heart feels heavy tonight upon hearing about a terrible accident and a dear mentor who remains hospitalized with intense injuries. On the trip from Austin to Nashville, this book got rained on during a storm and I was so upset about it because these words were penned by her on the inside cover. Words of life and community and peace. I could post today about all the friends and speakers I saw at Q but this is the gospel: at the end of the day, we belong to our people and our greatest use of a space like IG is to harness it for healing. So would you pray for Christine who has major bodily injury from being hit by a truck? And would you reach out to the mentors in your life and say “thank you”? Would you believe with me that Christine will fully recover? Our God gives us one another so we can bring each other to the foot of the cross. Don’t forget that. Don’t stop bringing others to Jesus and beating down the doors of heaven with prayers on their behalf.
In a week, I’ll be packing my bags for @campwellsummit at @lostvalleyranch and I love it for reasons I can’t explain. Maybe it’s because it’s in the middle of burned away Colorado forest or that there’s no cell service or that the sunsets are flawless. But honestly, that’s not it at all. It’s the friendships that have been built and the fact that this week started with stress and struggle and I was starting to feel isolated until a call with some of my dear Camp Well team and it was like waking up. Oh right—I have my tribe. I’m going to be fine. Here’s to a community that reminds me who God is and who I am and why it matters very much to tell other people that there’s a place for them at the table, too. May we all be the kind of friends that breathe life back into the hearts of others. May we cheer until our voices get hoarse and laugh until we weep and embrace with all our strength. We are better together. Thanks be to God.
I keep forgetting what month it is and to buy conditioner and to respond to text messages (I have 40 unread conversations on my phone—it’s fine) and I don’t think I’m the only one. We live in a world that is constantly pulling us in 1,000 directions. Today I stumbled upon this awesome postcard that my friend @burtola made and sent my way a while back. And today it was a sign that there is GRACE for forgetting. Because we all drop the ball from time to time. So if you’re worried about meeting everyone’s expectations, know that you’re not alone. Not one bit. Take a second. Remind yourself of what’s true. And then maybe write down your to-do’s so you can remember next time. 😉 Here’s to a Wednesday full of try-try again and rolling my eyes at how accurate these words are. You aren’t the only passenger on the struggle bus, friend. P.S. if I owe you a text or email or phone call or money—hit me up. 🤷🏻‍♀️
Her face lit up. “Well, you’re the first one to come out and say ‘Happy Easter’ to me today.” We talked about Easter and her sick father-in-law and how it can wear us out to care for another person. I’ve been struck lately by the fact that Jesus is always with us, in our conversations. I almost didn’t stop in at the gas station on the way out of town. I almost didn’t double-back to ask her for a photo. I almost missed out on the fact that in a sea of pastel dresses and beautifully designed graphics and big productions, Easter has to be real for someone like Alonya, too. The resurrection isn’t just for eternity. It’s for 12:03pm on a Sunday when you’ve been working at the cash register for six hours before someone mentions Jesus. Happy Easter, friends. In the words of @andrewpetersonmusic: His heart beats.
It’s holy Saturday. Not Easter. Not Good Friday. To be honest, my heart feels conflict when we jump too quickly to Sunday. When we mention Jesus’ death and quickly say “but Sunday’s coming!” or “and heaven just counted to three!” Because while it is finished and done and He is alive, this is the one weekend we can slow down and feel the weight of his sacrifice. To feel a little unsettled like the disciples did. Scripture reminds us that they still had to have a sabbath. To sit around in grief and shock that their leader was dead. To not busy themselves with work. And to face their worst fear that the miracle might not even happen at all. They were already doubters, after all. I can’t imagine that restless day of rest. We live in a culture that wants victory NOW. Success NOW. Resolve NOW. But the reality is that we often live in hard places. We often carry heavy things. And while Jesus always redeems, sometimes it takes a moment. Like catching a glimpse of the sun over the horizon, it’s not quite here yet and it’s okay to anticipate its arrival. In fact, sometimes the beauty is seen in the low light of dawn and dusk. May we take a moment today to let it be a little uncomfortable and to think on the sacrifice that felt empty for 3 days. The uncertainty His followers must have felt. The way they must have squinted to see Him there on the horizon, not daring to hope he could truly have returned from the grave. Only then can we fully exclaim on Sunday, “Thank God, He’s alive.”

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