I Fell in Love at Summer Camp

Sorry in advance for being a sap :)  


      I fell in love at summer camp. I never expected to find someone at all, let alone so wonderful, but I did. I went to camp to find God, and I found him and so much more.  I had just started to really move on from my heartbreak. I decided to work at Tadmor because I knew that was where God was going to heal my heart. Almost instantaneously, I stepped foot on camp property and my heart came to life for the first time in 9 months. I felt such peace being on summer staff and spending my time committed to Jesus.

      I was so focused on my campers that I didn't notice a certain someone had started paying quite a bit of attention to me. I was completely oblivious. I was enjoying camp life so much that I didn't notice anything outside of my counselor duties, that is, until I got the note in my mail box that changed my life.

      Inside this note several things I had mentioned to a fellow staff member were written. Apparently I was the first person to every mention that he looked good with his hat forward (which he totally does). He also brought up the fact that i had said that I like me some nerd to him sometime previously, which is true.

     Drawing conclusions from all of our interactions, he decided I was one of three things: 1. I have a very flirty personality, 2. I am really nice, or 3. that I like him. He also threw in the fact that he would have been fine with any of those three conclusions. I remember reading that note and being completely shocked. I hadn't realized that I had been flirting at all. But none the less I had been noticed. Something inside me pushed me to take a chance and get to know this fellow staff member, so I wrote back. I am so thankful I did.

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      Eight months later and I am even more in love. Every day he shows me more about the Lords character and challenges me to be more like Christ. He calls me beautiful like its my name. He makes me belly laugh until I cry. He listens to my worries and prays for me daily. He knows my heart.

     Sure, we have had our struggles. We are nowhere near perfect. We fail and we do things wrong but the most beautiful part of our relationship is the abundant grace of God. I have never experienced the grace of God like I have while pursuing our relationship. I have always had the tendency to doubt God's love for me, but he never ever fails to remind me.

     He is humble. He admits when he is struggling and openly discusses his sin. He admits that God's love is the only thing that cleanses him and never acts like he deserves it. He pushes me to practice giving grace every single time I get frustrated or angry. He encourages me to seek Jesus on my own, not just within our relationship. He sees why I love to sing and recognizes that its a part of who I am at my core. Even better, he shares that love for music himself. He doesn't love me despite my flaws, he loves me and my flaws.

     I thought I knew what love was when I was seventeen, I thought I knew what it was at twenty. At twenty one I decided love didn't even exist between two people, and that love was a lie. I thought I knew what a christ centered relationship looked like. But I knew nothing until God introduced me to that boy at summer camp. I knew nothing of the depth of God's grace until grace was all we had to cling to. I knew nothing of a soul mate until my heart became acquainted with Samuel Gerald Miller. I still don't know much, truthfully. But everyday I spend with him I learn more about Jesus and I learn more about myself. I used to believe that I could never be in a relationship that wasn't selfish or distracting, but I have found someone who points me to Jesus even on the hardest days. I have found someone who helps me to glorify God with my life. I have found some one who loves Jesus more than me, and thats more than I could have ever dreamed of.

Sit Down, Thoughts.

Take me on a trip far far away.

Let me travel to a place that I forget the time of day.

Perhaps somewhere out there, there is peace,

Perhaps one day I will get enough sleep

Eight hours a night still isn’t cutting it

what’s wrong with me, why isn’t it

taking eight hours and making me new

waking after eight hours and feeling blue

I search and look to find the cure,

Taking good deep looks in the mirror

But all I see is a plain girl who hates

Every single thing about her pale, freckled face.

When will I begin to love who I am?

when will I believe I am who He says I am?

how come I don’t believe I’m beautiful?

even when encouragement is more than plentiful.

Words all around me are positive and kind,

But negative hurtful feelings fill my mind.

I can’t seem to get rid of the doubt

In myself, the darkness wont get out.

In my head value is found in my action,

Always trying to gain love by attraction

But my value is found in the status of my soul,

This is something my actions can not control.

I tell my self over and over again

That Jesus love is the only thing that will win.

My soul’s peace should rely on him alone,

Stop trying to make yourself feel at home.

Your rest is found in Jesus Christ,

Stop placing weight on your self or you might

Fall quickly down to the pit so deep.

Give him your heart as His to keep.

On your own you can not stand,

Let Him lead you by the hand.

Stop trying to get the crazy to stop spinning,

Lean not on your own imperfect understanding

I have to remind my brain every day

Otherwise my heart is bound to stray.

Bind my wondering heart Lord to thee

And teach me of your glorious peace.

You are not who your head tells you to be

Because Jesus conquered the grave in victory

You don’t have to treat yourself with hate

Meet Jesus at his pearly gates

Remember your value comes from Him alone.

He is king and he is on His throne

In control of all eternity

He gave his only son for our iniquities.

Brain stop telling me who I’m not.

You are not in control, only God

can define my significance and my worth.

He declares my value is beyond this earth.

Sit down, thoughts, take a seat now.

You don’t get to control me now.

You have no authority over me.

Through Christ, I have the victory.

Why I Never Played Softball

When I was nine years old I was hit in the face by a softball that bounced off of a dunk tank. I was standing pretty far away, too. I wasn't even watching the dunking. But its pretty much my life to be hit in the face by something unexpected, and usually its some kind of athletic ball. I remember turning and watching the bright yellow ball move towards me in slow motion. I remember feeling frozen in time, my feet heavy and immovable. I even remember the exact outfit I was wearing. I remember many things about that day, but I don't remember how my feet freed the cement grass, I don't remember how I got to the fire truck and played on the front fender. I don't even remember the actual impact of the ball.

I opened my eyes to see people standing all around me, they seemed almost caked in makeup that make the details of their faces disappear. I remember I said something about them wearing makeup and we all laughed. When my vision cleared up, the first person I saw was my dad. I also saw the rest of the volunteer firefighters surrounding me. They had lifted me onto the front end of the fire truck, and started cleaning up the blood  on my face and on my clothes. I never did get the blood out of that shirt, and I never really was sure if I passed out or just fell down from the impact of the softball. All I know is that the memory of that strange event has stuck with me.

Thankfully, my nose was only bruised. By some miracle of God, I didn't have a broken nose and there was no medical emergency. I think my favorite part of the memory is that I was so quickly taken care of. I don't remember being scared at all. The volunteer firefighters and EMTs were people I had trusted all my life, and I had my dad. Even though I was hit in the face by a ricache softball, I wasn't afraid and I didn't need to be.

It might have been a freak accident that I couldn't prepare for, but the right people were there at the right time. When I was nine, I thought nothing of the experience except for the fact that it hurt and I was accident prone. I had no idea that it would still have significance thirteen years later. I look back at that memory and I'm in awe of how peaceful I felt. I'm thankful that I opened my eyes to see people I trusted. I'm thankful that it was just a bruise, and I'm thankful my dad was there to comfort me and pick me up.

This event is such a clear picture of how God works in our lives. Sometimes we get hit by something unexpected. We go through trials we never saw coming, and we fall down. We get scratched, burned, bruised, and broken. We can't avoid trial, and troubles will never just pass us by. That doesn't mean that God is evil for letting bad things happen, it doesn't mean He has forsaken you. Just like my dad and the firefighters were there to pick me up and carry me to safety, Jesus never leaves us and will pick us up when we fall. I had to completely depend on my dad and the rest of the volunteers to make sure I was okay. Trials and troubles teach me to lean into Jesus. God does not let us walk through fire alone, He is always right next to us.

When you feel like its one of those days where you've been hit by a softball smack in the nose, lean into Jesus. Let him carry you. Let him give you peace. Let him comfort you. Maybe your softball experience will stick with you and one day you can tell your story to encourage someone else. Remember, trials are just bruises, not broken bones. They don't last forever. You might never get the blood stain out of your shirt, but thats okay. Let your trials change you and shape you. God uses our pain to refine our faith and make our love for him deeper. Get rid of that old shirt, He has given you a brand new one, clean and without blemish. He has made you new. He will never allow trials in your life without teaching you to love Him more.

He has a plan, a plan to help you and not to hurt you. From the outside, trials look like they have no purpose and stand alone outside of God's plan, but that point of view is all wrong. Trials are pivotal pieces of God's perfect plan. Trials are necessary events that make us more like Jesus. Being a follower of Jesus is not a cake walk by any means. But life without Jesus is far more difficult. Because I follow Jesus, I can have confidence that my softball in the face moments have purpose and that God is by my side.

Perhaps if you aren't currently being hit smack in the nose by a softball right now. Maybe you are in the right place at the right time. Just maybe God has a purpose for placing you in a certain season of life so you can help someone up when they fall.

No matter where you are in this story, whether you're on the fender of the firetruck or someone standing by for help, your life matters. You have purpose. God wants you, and He loves you. You are inherently valuable, remember that.



P.S. There is a reason I never played softball like my sisters....now you know why.

The Fairytale Facade

When I was a kid, my favorite people to study and admire were women in their teens and twenties. I remember thinking that I hoped to be just like them one day. I dreamed that I would be as confident as they were, as beautiful as they were, and as smart as they were. I remember looking at these women as if they were movie stars. As a little girl, all I wanted was to grow up and love my life as much as those women seemed to love theirs.

One day I woke up and became a woman in her twenties, as if almost instantaneously. However, I didn't feel like the beautiful, smart, and confident women I admired when I was a child. As a kid, I imagined that at this point in my life, I would have it all figured out. That's the thing, I have to stop thinking like I did as a kid. My body may have grown up, but in my head I still imagine this perfect picture of a woman that I imagined as a child.

Despite the fact that I will never attain what my child self thought grown up women were like, I think me as a child would like me now. As a kid I loved it when adults would stop and talk to me, I loved it when they would play with me. That is something that has stuck with me and carried over into my relationship with my baby sister. I absolutely love playing with kids and listening to what they have to say, I hope my five year old self would be proud.

I hope my five year old self can forgive me for deciding not to pursue the "pop star" career I once dreamed of. As a child I had this picture in my head of me singing on a stage in front of an audience, and when you're young, being famous is the only way that makes sense. Somewhere along the line I realized that fame was the direct opposite of what I wanted. Don't worry though, little Kory, I still love to sing and I don't plan on stopping anytime soon. I just came to a place where I desired community and family above any hope of being a famous singer. Somehow, I think my five year old self would thank me.

As a child, I had a picture in my head of what love should look like, thanks to Disney. I believed that one day I would be with the right guy, and that it would last forever. My five year old self believed in fairy tales, and to some extent, I think I still do. What I didn't see coming though, was that love is messy and it doesn't actually happen like it does in the Little Mermaid. Unlike Ariel, I have a voice and I often use it directly, and some people don't like that. Ariel literally gives her voice away to find love, she gave up the very thing that made her, her, all for the sake of love. I did that too. I gave up my voice and my true desires and dreams in order to hold onto what I though was love. When that so called "love" came crashing down, I had no concept of how to bounce back, there's no Disney movie for that. My family and my friends helped me to seek Jesus and to find my voice again. My child self may have thought that my dreams were shattered, but what she didn't realize is that people are all broken, and God heals the broken to make us stronger. Disney doesn't have a story like that, but I do. I hope and pray that other little girls much like myself can see the hope and strength I have found by breaking out of the fairy tale facade.

But like I said, I still believe in fairy tales. I just don't believe in the fairy tales written unrealistically. I believe in the fairytale of a girl growing up to serve and glorify the Lord. I believe in the fairytale of a girl finding her confidence and beauty in Jesus. I believe in the fairytale of a girl falling in love with a man who loves Jesus above all else. I believe in the fairytale a that aren't found in movies or books, instead they are found in the lives of my best friends, my family, and within myself.

If you're still hoping your life will turn out they way you had imagined when you were five, stop putting yourself through that torture. We can not attain the perfection we thought we could as kids and there is no sense in punishing your adult self for that. Instead, take a look at your life and find the things your younger self would thank you for. Admire where God has brought you and know that his plan for your life is far greater than any plan or fairytale you came up with as a child.

A Magical Moment

            There was a slight breeze in the air that night. Not enough to make the leaves fall off the trees, but enough to make them rustle. The air was cool. It was a chilly fall night and the moon was high in the sky. The school had lights on inside, probably trying to fool people into thinking that it was still in use. The school was abandoned, and everyone knew. The parking lot was almost always empty, unless two cars were there to meet up and exchange questionable materials. There are no lights on the parking lot, only the gentle light of the moon to display any activity that went on there.

            Off to the right there was a small play structure, from a distance it looked like the parking lot was empty, but with a closer look it was plain to see that there were several middle school aged kids just hanging out there waiting for something to happen. They must have seen the headlights because as soon as the car was parked, they started walking away. The parking lot was empty, the only sounds were the cars on the street and the rustling of the leaves. It was perfect.

            We parked the car, rolled down the windows, and cranked up the tunes. Not the kind of tunes that would play at a rave or exciting concert, these songs were romantic, old timey, and happy. They were the kinds of songs that take you back in time, to a place when simple romantic gestures were commonplace.

            My teeth were chattering uncontrollably. He said, “Would you rather get back in the car?” I said “no”, because I knew that what was about to happen would be worth any teeth chattering and shivers that came my way. He took my hand, placed his other around my waist, and we danced. They were not extravagant, graceful dance moves by any means, but they meant everything to me. In the past I had thought that this kind of thing only happened in storybooks and movies. But this happened, it was happening, and I was in love.

            I can’t remember how long we danced, several songs I presume. Somewhere in there he picked me up and spun me around. I guess you could say that was when I knew I was the happiest I had ever been. People kept driving past the empty abandoned school parking lot, but I was lost in the moment. Every once in a while, a pair of headlights would shine like spotlights on a stage, and we danced all the more. The breeze continued to blow, and the leaves continued to rustle. The moon hung in the sky like a chandelier, and the empty abandoned parking lot became a beautiful, dazzling ball room that only the two of us could see. People say that enchantment and magic aren't real, but I know I was part of a magical moment that night.

                       

Something That Matters

            I want so badly to write something that matters, something that makes an impact. I have such a desire to put words on a page that cause a stirring in one’s soul. I want to cause somebody to think differently about their world, or about themselves. I long to find the words that will come together and change a life.

            I keep taking out paper to write but I never find the right words to say. It used to come so easily, the ability to pour my soul out on paper. Once upon a time I could pick up a pen, write something meaningful, and hardly have time to even blink. But now, it’s so difficult to decide what to write that I have resorted to writing about not knowing what to write.

            Maybe it’s not about the topic of my writing, perhaps all that matters is that I write down something, even if it’s just a sentence. I’m probably out of practice, but I’m also a different person than when I began a year ago. I can’t write like I did then because I am not her anymore. I’m new, and so is my writing.

            I used to write about my internal wounds and my broken heart. I used to write about my insecurities and my fears. I used to write about my unhappy and afraid heart. I looked at writing as a way to get those feelings out, and to let people know that I needed help, that I was struggling.

            But life is different now. I don’t have to write about my broken heart any longer because my wounds have been healed. I don’t write about my insecurities because I have found that seeking God’s truth about me works better. I don’t write about my unhappy heart because I’m the happiest I have ever been in my life.

            Maybe I’m having such a hard time writing because my subconscious is making me feel guilty for sharing joy. Maybe I think that the only writing that matters is writing about pain and suffering. But my subconscious is wrong.

            Writing about joy is just as important as writing about sorrow. In fact, it may be more important. People need to know that even though suffering happens, joy comes in the morning.

            The joy and happiness I feel today is a testament to God’s faithfulness. He brought me through a storm and has filled my life with peace.  People need to know that their pain has purpose, that God will turn their ashes into beauty. People need to know about the hope of Christ.

            Writing about pain matters. It lets people know they are not alone, it lets people know the depth of human emotion, and it makes an impact. Writing about joy matters, too, especially if its joy that comes after a tough storm. Writing about joy and happiness shows the love of Christ, and shows just how much we matter to God.

            Writing about both sorrow and joy is a beautiful way to display the work of Christ, and one day when I walk through another storm, I will be able to go back and read of how faithful God has been in the past. I will have no doubt in my mind that He will be faithful again.

            I think I have been having so much trouble writing because I couldn’t figure out what God wanted me to say. Today, he is telling me to share about his abundant joy in my life. He wants me to write about how much he has changed my heart. He took my heart of stone and turned it into a heart of thankfulness, and that matters. Transformation matters.

            So I will write about my sorrows, and I will write about my happiness. Through every high and every low, Christ is there with me. I hope my joy impacts others even more so than my pain. I hope my new heart displays Christ more accurately than my broken heart ever did. I hope this joy of the lord will be my strength when the next trial comes my way. Both pain and joy matter, and I will write in such a way that proves it.

            

He has Carried Me Through

             

Wow. Finals week of spring 2015, I can hardly believe I made it. What a journey this year has been. It feels like it has gone by agonizingly slow and yet in the blink of an eye. Funny the way time passes, so slowly and then all at once, that you have a hard time grasping the change. I am completing a school year of trials. I started the year in probably the most horrible place someone could begin a school year, however I am ending the school year a much stronger individual. I am still in shock. How could I possibly be here in April 2015? Was I not just packing to come back to school for another school year yesterday? How has so much time passed since then? I simply can’t wrap my mind around it.

            Through the trials, so much good has come. I have made friends that I never would have had before. I learned what it is like to live in an apartment, and what it is like moving out of one. I learned that family can make some of your best friends. It’s okay to change and experience new kinds of things. Test out the waters. Take a risk. You might hate it, but you might love it. Life happens when you are willing to step out of your comfort zone. If you want to get a tattoo, get a tattoo. If you want to work at a summer camp all summer, do it. You are only going to grow if you challenge yourself to be more than you were yesterday. 

            You will only grow if you are nourished. I have been nourished this year. So much love has been poured out on me and so much life has sprouted. Yes, there were many days of drought. Yes, it was a very rough start. God has brought me here, He never left my side. On the many days of pain and anguish, he sent His love in the form of family, friends, and sunny afternoons. He has been faithful. He is allowing me to tell his story through my struggle, and I could not be more grateful.

            This year I found out who I am, without anyone else being part of that identity. I learned that my identity is found in the love of Christ, not in a relationship status. I learned that Kory isn’t static; she is dynamic and ever changing, ever growing. Kory is not predictable. She may even do things that are unexpected, and that is OK. Through the uncharted territory, I have found that there is so much more to life than what I originally thought. I don’t have to be what I planned for so many years. I can change my mind and try new things and make new plans. Life is not set in stone, and neither am I. God will not be finished shaping me until the day I meet him in the sky. I have my whole life to learn, try, experience, and live the life He has for me. How liberating it is to know that I am not stuck in one place, I am free to move about and see the world created by my God. How wonderful is it that I am not defined by a hometown, by a stereotype, by a boy. How beautiful is it that I am known as a child of God destined to live out His plan for me.

            As much as I would like to erase the pain and the trials of this school year, I most certainly would never want to lose the lessons I have learned. As I venture out into more uncharted territory as a camp counselor for the summer, I know God will use my experience for His glory. My experience will relate to campers who need to see the love of Christ. He makes all things work together for my good, and for others. He has nourished my soul and shown me hope. Junior year at Corban University was anything but easy, but it was worth it. Praise Jesus for His unending mercy and love, and his footprints in the sand. He has carried me through.