Year in Review: A Look Back at 2023

Thursday, August 24, 2023

I’m taking in a familiar scene, a road once trudged 1,934 times over 7 years, give or take a few. By all means, I should be feeling nauseous, frail like the cracks on the sidewalk below.

But not this day. Not on this quest back to the desert where once upon a time, I punched in a rare card. Oh, to be a youth pastor with a full-time governmental job on the side. Those were the days, the former, I miss fondly. 

In the air is the smell of victory as I trek this iconic incline disguised as an inverted hourglass. An interview? With the State? No way you could have convinced me a year ago I would be in that situation. Then again, as they say, expect the unexpected and you’ll never be surprised or disappointed. Tell that to a desperate hunter living on a prayer wondering how the heck it came to this.

Indeed, to tell the tale of 2023, you must go back to the beginning, a point when red flags were yellow and the hope for a better year was still alive. A promotion to a new department at work. Check. A fresh slate post-Jubilee. Check. Hot off a fruitful Christmas NICU outreach. Check. Certainly, some anticipations were well founded.

Yet, despite those hopeful prospects, there were apprehensions as the new year rang, the biggest one being our final small Fry in the oven with no one aware except Lys’ parents. In a vacuum, there was excitement, a recognition of God’s restoration at work. Still, we knew despite my promotion at work, it wasn’t going to be enough to make ends meet based on a poorly reshuffled financial deck and a lack of quality benefits. TennCare, the system is helpful but doesn’t cover everything. Somehow, some way, God was going to have to do what only He could.

Freshly commissioned by my former team of three years, early expectations were high the year ahead could be both a collective step up. Unfortunately, the writing on the wall would start to show in light of questionable corporate decisions, enough to know what was now becoming clear: 2023 was going to be my last year at Foundation Group, shades of four years prior when God guided me out of TDOT. I didn’t know how the transition would occur. All I knew is like the ending scene from Mary Poppins, the weather vane within had completed turned. Slowly but surely, a piece of me was starting to fade.

With the kids in school to start the year (shout out to Greater Things), Lys and I had to pull out all the stops to make ends meet. We started with one freelancing side hustle (lost to AI in May) and a few ministerial endeavors on the board; however, they were not enough to offset the support cutoff that took place following Jubilee’s passing. For the first time in our married life, we had to find creative means from the bottom of the barrel to stitch paychecks together. This included eight BioLife Plasma appointments between December 8, 2022 and January 19, 2023, the latter of which prompted my donation retirement having almost passed out due to blood loss. Freak plasma accidents, they can be a bear in a [matter] of speaking. πŸ˜‰ 

The following week, I started an eBay store to offload sports cards, memorabilia, and apparel I didn’t need. While gross sales were much higher than expected the first 4-5 months, the operation only served to connect weekly financial dots and did little to help us pull equity out of our home.  On the verge of bankruptcy only months before Aili’s arrival, Lys and I had no choice but to pray and pray often for open doors. In our hearts, we knew provision would come. We just didn’t know how the details and timelines would shape out.

As winter gave way to spring, our family received a generous offer to visit Port Saint Joe, Florida for our first full family vacation. During our time away, Lys and I were able to celebrate our 10-year wedding anniversary while the kids enjoyed their inaugural beach debut.

In terms of broader stretches, the late March to early May time frame was notable for two occurrences:

1) On March 27, The Gate Church hosted my dad’s 50 Years of Ministry Celebration in what was truly a special night for our family.

2) From March 21 – May 9, Lys and I participated in a grief support group at Vanderbilt Children’s Hospital in what would become a defining sequence for the rest of the year. Despite the proximity to where Jubilee died, we felt at home with our new friends, some of whom we still keep in contact with. As only the second bereaved parent support group in Vanderbilt’s history, our cohort proved to be an enlightening experience for several nurses on staff. From what we understand, more support groups are expected to launch in 2024 for those who endured Jubilee journeys of their own.

Like April, June was a meaningful month, albeit for different reasons. In a top three memory of the year, Lys and I took a weekend away to Moscow, Tennessee, to participate in a While We’re Waiting Retreat for bereaved parents. Like the Vanderbilt support group, the event would feature a balanced blend of community, healing, and direct support, essentials we desperately needed and weren’t finding anywhere else at the time. The empowerment and activation from the weekend would not only result in more friends but a guest appearance on the While We’re Waiting podcast in October and eventual board approval to start the first middle Tennessee chapter for the 2024 calendar year.

Apart from support groups, the dominant storylines heading into July were Lyssah’s pregnancy (by far the smoothest of all five kids), leading more Zoom calls with the Circuit Riders, and the job hunt reaching a fever pitch. Among the 200 applications sent on Indeed and LinkedIn between July-October 2023, roughly 8-10 resulted in fruitful networking including a pipeline for Foundation Group that specialized in not-for-profits. 

Of course, the ultimate Fry-light would occur Friday, July 28, the day on which Aili was born. Although her earthly entrance doesn’t offset the incompleteness Lys and I feel, the wonder of God’s faithfulness as evident through the moment struck a victorious nerve in the context of God’s sovereignty and our testimony unfolding. Literal beauty from ashes (Isaiah 61:3), Aili’s arrival was more than cathartic but a sweet reminder to praise God for the way He ministers encouragement and comfort to the brokenhearted. Like a gift that keeps on giving, Aili continues to warm our hearts through smiles and reflections of divine providence. Even in the wake of last year’s tragedy, the surrealness of her presence has, no question, bonded our family together in greater measure.

Fast-forward to November 7 and the job search finally concluded after five months of persistent effort. Honestly, I will never forget the call I received from Mercy Multiplied during which they confirmed an offer for me to become their Accounting Manager, instantly justifying God’s call from January and the many closed doors that preceded in the months following. To think my application came in one day before the position was pulled from online job boards blows my mind – just another example of how God is faithful to guide and provide especially in the clutch. Since then, I’ve been able to find footing in a healthier environmentΒ working for Nancy Alcorn and her Finance team. No doubt, the experience, highlighted by the Merry Mercy 40thΒ Anniversary Celebration earlier this month, has been a breath of fresh air.Β 

And so, as the sun sets on 2023, I bid it adieu and relish the opportunity to start afresh and anew. Occasionally, I think back to that day in January, the one BioLife missed the vein, and how it triggered a resonating desire for the look of life to change in every facet outside immediate family and friends; however, I also remember praying, ‘Lord, even if these changes don’t happen, even if I feel like I’m sinking at the end of the year, give me healthy wife/healthy baby and I will gladly take it‘. Safe to say that request accrued dividend and interest as Aili, and her older sibling trio continue to mature in stature with Lys making progress towards 2020 levels of health.

Still, even with the advances of late, the hurts linger. Moving on is hard; adjusting to life post-Juby (while we’re gettin’ there) is hard; learning your youngest son is auti..ahem…neurodivergent…is hard; employing financial wisdom is hard; not feeling seeded in crucial areas…you guessed it…is hard. Then again, life was never meant to be easy and I’m quickly reminded how we can do all things through Christ who strengthens us even when we feel alone, disappointed, unheard, misunderstood, even neglected. Hence, why Lys and I are not discouraged to the point of wavering despite 2023 going down as the roughest year since 2011. For as 2021 and 2022 taught us…

…clinging to hope at the end of your rope is not just a hell to pass through but a hotspot to discover God’s love amidst the endurance.

Thus, while 2023 felt like navigating a pothole-laden highway, we can give testament to God as a solid foundation amidst the voids. Despite the adversities, I give Him all the praise for how he’s helped me put the family on my back and carry them through streams of troubled water this year. 

To new faces and friendly spaces, we thank you for being valued connections in life and as part of our support network. To those on the other side, we thank you as well for your part in making us stronger. Just as without suffering and chaos, there cannot be compassion and peace, so too we cannot grow stronger without deficits and prompts to overcome. Accordingly, we can be grateful for the situations that awaken us to draw closer to Jesus regardless of the specifics involved. Granted, we understand many of you reading this have sowed refreshment and have extended goodwill to many during the past few years. For that, we share our warmest regards and wish you nothing but God’s best this holiday season.

May you all be blessed and enriched with the grandeur of His highest,

~ Cameron (and Lyssah) Fry

Prayer Points (in no particular order)

  1. Favor with Cameron’s new job at Mercy Multiplied
  2. Favor with the launch of the While We’re Waiting Nashville small group
  3. Ministerial direction (i.e. knowing where God wants to plant us in 2024) 
  4. Mentoring/networking opportunities (i.e. knowing who we’re to team with/invest relationally)
  5. New work opportunities for Lyssah (remote or hybrid)
  6. Family health/Milo’s occupational therapy
  7. Progress with Cameron’s Jubilee Journey book and a jumpstart of the His Girl Fryday podcast
  8. Continued healing and recovery post-Jubilee

Cover graphic creds: Vecteezy

Miracle in the Making: The Jubilee Journey (Part 9)

One week into August…and we’re starting to hit those milestone anniversaries. Crazy how we’re already at the one-year mark from when the Juby Journey started, at least as we know it.

For those following our page updates, Juby has been oscillating on her paralytic the past 48 hours netting in a positive direction. Honestly, given the dire position she was in a few weeks ago, I’ll take baby step progress any way we can get it. Yet, while the arrow is a mild point up at the moment, I can’t help but feel I’m riding a similar line spiritually speaking.

In a sense, I feel so hollow, so numb…it’s like I’m threading the needle between supernatural protection and self-preservation. On one hand, it’s not hard for me to routinely release Juby into God’s hands and anchor surrender in yielded trust; on the other, the depressive thoughts continue to mount, the slope ever more slippery as the need for thought captivation increases.

From the ‘God, am I somehow the hold up to Juby being fully healed’ to ‘I wish I could go back to student pastoring again…somewhere far away from here’…the thought captivity meter is basically in whack a mole’ mode. And I wish there was an off button.

Still, every hour is one at a time laced with opportunities to say ‘no’ to fear and ‘yes’ to higher alternatives. From upticking K-LOVE radio play to binge watching posthumous footage of Joy Dawson, there are many ways to punch Satan in the face these days.

But then there’s last Sunday when Lys had the opportunity to share the Word at The Gate Church in Franklin.

Listening to her speak, I couldn’t quench the goosebumps as she delivered a message similar to one I shared with LEGACYouth six years ago during an ‘Intentionality of Jesus’ series.

Past and present infused, there I was in Matthew 14:22-33, storybooked next to Jesus ahead of his second Sea of Galilee cameo.

Six chapters earlier (Matthew 8:23-27), Jesus had demonstrated His power over the water in the boat; now He was about to manifest His power, patience, and Immanuel presence on the water outside the boat. You talk about poetic symmetry in motion. Here was the Son of God who used His voice to quiet the waves, who proceeded to miraculously feed the 5,000, who had already previewed His identity to the disciples…yet hadn’t employed His move strategic maneuver. At least until v. 23 in which Jesus retreats to pray following a massive ministerial stretch and learning his cousin, John the Baptist, had been killed. Aware of the weather conditions, Jesus then calls notable audible in v. 25:

…He came to them.”

Now, for most reading this, these four words are perhaps anecdotal to the passage’s climax in v. 33 when the disciples acknowledge Jesus’ identity. But to this guy, these words hit close to home in a way I couldn’t possibly understand outside this current season.

‘Cause truth is: The disciples didn’t call out to Jesus to come to them; rather Jesus made the first move, calling out to them so they could call back and respond accordingly. Almost a complete reversal of Matthew 8, Jesus isn’t arbitrarily prayer-walking around waiting for something to happen. Conversely, He is resetting into the Father and planting himself, albeit in distance, to make His presence known. How many times have we sensed the faint fragrance of Christ and like Peter couldn’t resist the urge to confirm its realness?

Granted, we should respect Peter in this story for breaking physics through child-like faith alone. For he knew He couldn’t control the elements yet understood His calling in the moment…get out of the boat and draw near to Jesus…cyclone be darned. Through hell or high water, Peter knew what mattered most was where he was going and who he was going to; hence, why he had no problem doing what he deemed most sensible when he lost visual: He cried out to Jesus for a supernatural, warp-speed extension of the hand ever reaching into the chaos…

…met with the grasp of saving grace.

Oh, you of little faith. Why did you doubt?’ (v. 32).

Not a reprimand, mind you, but a reminder: I’m with you always and was there from the beginning. Don’t ever think my hand is too short to save.

Back in the NICU, I continue to marvel at this little life. As one who feels small often, I can resonate to a certain extent. But strangely, I couldn’t care less…because like Peter, if Jesus confesses His proximity and in response, I ask Him to ask me to believe the impossible…heck, yes, sign me up for that as long as I have breath. No matter how long Juby lives, I don’t want to ask Jesus to save her, to save me, to save my family…if I’m not willing to walk on water amidst the neighboring halls praying without ceasing. I don’t want to ask Jesus to help me if I’m not willing to press into the Father…if I don’t make vertical reliance a priority over a given moment or assignment.

After all, the Son of God is with me…and comes to me. May our faith, like Peter, understand what’s most important and progress correspondingly…

Selah.

Cover photo creds: ImageVine

Miracle in the Making: The Jubilee Journey (Part 6)

It’s a chilling 72 degrees as I type this.

Still rattling from another week of dodging arrows, taking them in the back in some cases.

I’m done with this. I’m so fed up and yet starving at the same time. Forget why; I just want to know when.

When will things get better? When will things start to turn around?

I look at Juby and I delight in her progress. It’s not that I don’t appreciate the journey…the literal baby steps one must take during these intense stretches.

But when it’s Monday morning and you’ve been out of home for three months. When it’s a brand new day and your only source of sanctuary betrays you, I’m sorry, I just can’t even…

…not anymore.

Don’t get me wrong; I haven’t given up or anything. Contrarily, I sometimes wonder if not knowing how to not believe is part of what’s working.

Yet, as I continue to wrestle and keep my head above the water, I discover new depths to what faith is like at the end of its rope…

…and it is gloriously terrifying. A place you relish and long to relinquish at the same time.

Like many paradoxes, the dichotomy is confusing. After all, vertical reliance is supposed to be uncomfortable – an achy burn as opposed to a contagious high.

I guess what I’m trying to say is: I trust God has something in store for Lys & I once this season blows over. It’s just getting harder to move, to leave the house, to function really. Even though we’re hard pressed on every side, but not crushed, even though we’re perplexed on multiple fronts, but not [yet in] despair, the temptation to think otherwise entices me.

How can the life of Jesus fully manifest when all I can do is stand? How can His glory be revealed when I’m this lost searching for a horizon to light my way?

Sure, I can stiff-arm fear all day, but at day’s end, I just want to know where I am headed.

I’m sure I’m not the only one out there wondering this right now.

Disoriented and fatigued, my charge tonight is simple…

If you find yourself at the end of your rope, rejoice in the stillness and tie a knot.

You may feel like you’re trembling on a precipice, but where courage lacks is also where much is given. In time, you will be able to strain forward to what lies ahead. For now, embrace the opportunity to receive as you persevere, let steadfastness have its full effect, and hold fast the confession of hope without wavering.

Even when you step out of your car and a freak gear glitch causes it to launch into a neighbor’s yard before you somehow, someway stop it from crashing into their house, count it all joy. Tally up His goodness and scale your conflicts accordingly.

Take it from one in the trenches with you. Your life isn’t as broken as you think. And even if it is, there’s not a solve or repair unbeknownst to God.

Why not trust the handiness of His hands as you trade in your sorrows?

Just sayin’…

Selah.

Cover photos creds: Word Slingers

Miracle in the Making: The Jubilee Journey (Part 4)

So…I was going to write about some more NICU life lessons today…

So, I was going to discuss more NICU life lessons today; however, after losing my home flooring due to a washer malfunction and a rental car in 48 hours, I’m calling an audible for two reasons:

Reason #1: If frustration is a thermos, I’m overflowing past the brim, fresh off the sight of my house becoming a waterfall with pipe water sloshing from the laundry room to the front door. As steam vents from my ears, so too is my sanity. 

Reason #2: If fear is a storm, I’m in the eye, scarred by the visual of my rental spiraling out of the driveway unmanned, clipping the neighbor’s mailbox, destroying my car door, and coming within a foot of impacting the neighbor’s car.

Of all the reasons and seasons for this to happen, this happens now. I mean, I know when it rains, it pours, but come on, life, this is ridiculous!Seriously, God, I know you’re up there! Can you throw us a lifeline, a SOS, anything? Just for one day, one flippin’ day, can Lys and I catch a little break?

*Sigh*

My mind says I can’t do this anymore. I’m losing my fight. I’m not made for this road. But deep down, I don’t want to give up on you being the break I crave at the end of the day. After all, when we need to stop and breathe, you are the breath in our lungs. I only must look so far as the ventilator in front of me. As alarms resound, give Lyssah and me the strength to endure with character so our capacity to believe in You and share your love increases. I thank you for trusting us with Jubilee, for this appointed time of troubleshooting through which we can model perseverance to our neighbors, literally and figuratively. Per 2 Corinthians 4:8- 10, reset that big picture again so we may be good to go by your goodness. Even though we’re afflicted, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; struck down, but not destroyed; help us carry in our body the death of Jesus, so that His life may manifest and multiply. Amen.

Perspective and prayer applied, I’m still lost at sea if peace is an ocean. From losing livability in my house to awkward conversations with insurance companies, my emotions are bursting at the seam, enough to make this passage a tough one to swallow. Yet, even as vultures begin to circle, even as these physical and emotional toils build, I will count it all joy as I consider what God may be expanding in this season. 

Take it from a broken man: If all you can do is say, ‘Yes’ and roll with it, you have won in Jesus’s name. Like Bill Murray in β€˜What About Bob’, what baby steps lack in initial distance make up for them in determination over time. So must our faith be as we walk and talk with God during crisis.

Selah.

Cover photo creds: Wallpaper Safari

Miracle in the Making: The Jubilee Journey (Part 3)

Lately, I’ve been marveling at how the past seven weeks have mirrored the past eighteen months.

On one hand, it’s been the worst of times; on the other, it’s been the “first” of times…

…with every day an exhausting, sometimes unprecedented mix of trial and turbulence.

However, as I’ve continued to study 2 Corinthians 12:7-10, I’ve been captivated by a certain truth, a keen illumination as once eloquently captured by Joe Novenson:

“The feel of faith is not strength, but dependent weakness.”

Mmm…just let that sink in a little.

The feel of faith…a dependent weakness. What a remarkable association. And apologies in case you heard that noise in the background.

That was just a mic drop echoing deep within the bowels of my soul.

For as many of you know, this Jubilee journey has been the epitome of humbling. In all sincerity, words can only go so far as the joyride (Jubilee’s name compels me to call it as such) has left me mesmerized wrestling with the scale of God’s sovereign strength amidst the chaos.

Still, the more Lys and I have endured and persevered, the more we’ve been able to taste God’s providence and assurance. To the extent we’ve anchored our trust, to that extent we’ve been able to mutually rely on God in unison, even harmony.

Again, it’s a unique paradox but one I’m discovering and profoundly grateful for.

‘Cause the way I see it: The specific season we’re in, from Jubilee to Covid caution, is more than one we’re supposed to ‘get through’…but one we’re meant to bear through.

The question is: In our various conflict resolutions and troubleshootings, what are we bearing (or forbearing) along the way?

While I’m still seeking God for solutions, what I can say is sometimes all we can do is stay the course and know God will set our paths straight. Especially in a time when many are forcing restarts, from marriage and relationships to work and church life, we can be prone to manufacture tranquility. Why we’d rather rush to refresh and blank our slates as opposed to conquering with confidence? Honestly, your guess is as good as mine.

Yet, as I continue to struggle amidst the unrest, I will gladly embrace a holy dependence that isn’t withdrawn like the trends around me. What I’m learning in my walk with God, with Lys, even at Foundation Group, is the sweet reminder the greatest victories are shared and beared. As much as we want to thrive, as much as we crave a new chapter, we can’t possibly ‘get there’ without partnering in weakness with what and whom God has already established.

My charge to you, dear ones, is two-fold:

  1. Keep heart, take heart…but don’t lose heart!
  2. You can struggle and live abundantly at the same time.

Don’t disengage what your challenges are tied to; rather engage the reason you’ve been entrusted to overcome them. Sure, it may take some time. Perhaps a year or two or ten. But together, we will ‘get there’.

‘Til then, don’t sign off yet. At least until God says it’s time.

Selah.