Tag: Year of Jubilee

Year in Review: A Look Back at 2023

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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. 😉 

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 environment working for Nancy Alcorn and her Finance team. No doubt, the experience, highlighted by the Merry Mercy 40th Anniversary Celebration earlier this month, has been a breath of fresh air. 

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

Right Up My Aili: The Final Small Fry (Part 1)

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It’s another sultry evening in west Nash as I type this. I don’t speak on my behalf when I say I’m glad recent storms have finally subsided.

For most of you reading this, you know how much I love storms. When I’m in one, I’m one step closer to awe – one step closer to life making more sense. After all, the winds within are never far away.

Of course, you wouldn’t know it given the script of 2023’s first half, a stretch in which the theme of forced rest amidst evolving pursuits have re-emerged. While the in-house volume has emphatically increased, in several areas of life, Lys and I have been forced to mute the noise to maintain heading.

And so it is, I pen this post during the last normal weekend for the foreseeable future. Houston, start down the countdown. We’re less than six days away from the final small Fry making her arrival.

While much attention this year has been given to the Juby Journey book, occasionally, it helps to zoom out to 20,000 feet and refresh a different page. Personally, I find the practice not just helpful but vital – a necessity during such disorienting days.

This dichotomy, man. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt and likely will ever feel again.

On one hand, the grief of losing Juby last September has finally started to subside. Slowly but surely, Lys and I are getting there though as I’ve said before: You can’t ever quantity a journey through grief and its cycles. You can only paint a picture through watercolor language. Even then, you’re talking about a mere speck on a 10′ x 10′ canvas of emotions. We’re moving in the right direction – an oasis there, a ray of sun there. Maybe someday, we’ll be out of the woods for good.

On the other, you have the anticipation of Aili, a golden surprise in what has been the smoothest pregnancy by a wide margin. Such a sweet kiss from the Lord as part of a redemptive narrative unfolding. Who would have guessed it based on what happened two years ago around this time?

Still, when you lose a child, you’re never the same again. And you certainly feel the rift when joyous occasions are on the horizon. As Lys and I shared in our Vandy grief support group in April, when you go through something like what we did last year, an organic strengthening occurs when perseverance is compelled to a life on the lines, when hope is forced to the end of its rope. Eventually, there are moments when the despondency softens and you realize you’ve made strides in becoming the person you’ve always wanted to be.

But there is a cost, one tracing back to that same hope ironically enough. While endurance may have fortified your faith, your capacity to positively anticipate is broken, at least bent. And it’s here where the bizarre paradox starts to unveil. Yes, you’re grateful for the forging through fire. Still, you can’t help but wonder why so many shades of happiness are gone. Perhaps they’ve melded into scars and the only possible way to sense them is through the prelude of thanksgiving?

Whatever the case, while eager enthusiasm is much harder to come by, our desire to look up and receive fresh perspective remains at ease. Take it from the battle-tested: All those sermons about intentionality in referencing God, I’m telling you…they aren’t Sunday morning fluff. At some point, you grow up and realize there is no other way to find those morsels of encouragement. Sometimes, all you can do is pray. And that’s okay.

As for Lys and I, we’re doing what we’ve been doing for so long now – one day at a time, one hour at a time, keeping hearts transparent and lifelines secure. To be honest, I feel a tad guilty – I probably should be more excited about Aili’s arrival on Friday. The last time one of our own came into the world, there was so much chaos and hostility. Forgive me, Lord, I’m just a weak man walking on the sea. I believe in You and yet reserve my joy to seeing the evidence of health without compromise, your breath in her lungs as we pour out our praise. At this point, I don’t contend for normality but vibrancy in abundance. Hence, why Aili is the name we’re going with. In dark depths, when shadows are at their most opaque, there’s a bright, shining light in our midst reminding us He’s there looking out for us.

As for life itself, the internal knots will eventually unwind and streams once abandoned will be returned to. God knows what we’ve had to release in the short term and why. Certainly, where the help has and hasn’t occurred this year has been telling. Like a weather vane turning in slow motion, the signs aren’t lost on me. Glory to God, He speaks through and to voids, even ones unauthorized, to reach us with what only He can provide.

Yet, despite the mysteries and unknowns, what I can say is this: While the heart is weak and willing, as far as it be with us, we will relish the ride. Even as we pass through the turnstile of significant dates, August 21 and September 18, most notably, you can bet the joy set before Him, along with the cost, will be counted. Even though we feel trapped in a parallel universe, far removed from our intended plotline, our trust will remain anchored, our times in His hands.

We got this ’cause He had it first. May it be.

Until then, selah and know…

Graphic creds: Tenor; HD Wallpaper

Star Yores: The Turn of the Magi

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Scripture: Matthew 2:1-12 (AMP)

Imagine this.

You’re a renowned scholar of your time, a respected expert in astrological sciences, and in general, a maestro of subject matter.

With a mind geared towards the aerial, your intellect hits new light: A star, one you’ve never seen before far outside your scope. Your natural inclination is to pause and ponder. Could this be a confluence of planets, a comet, perhaps a supernova kissing our celestial cul-de-sac? Or is this an illusion, a unicorn moment too good to be true?

Whatever the case, there are no analogs. Whatever you’ve seen, whatever you’ve heard…for once it’s not good enough. And thus, a fire rages within to crack the mystery. but even more so to discern this urge to do something radical, something crazy.

The fork ever widening, you roll the dice and take the risk. Seeking out this angelic beam, you’re now on a camelback quest with your comrades. Advancing into unchartered territory, you quickly realize this isn’t Kansas anymore and your directions aren’t so simple as second star from the right and straight on ’til morning. Your convenient, carpeted life…now subject to the Euphrates and a Royal Road to true royalty.

Like a pre-disciple, you’ve said goodbye to home, not entirely sure if you’ll return. Risking it all to lay it all down, the gifts you bear are years from delivery but capture the source of your faith.

You’re going west, young man…with words of gratitude close at heart yet from far from optional. For this cryptic star, the one you’ll regard as of David, had once shined on a child in manger lay. The illuminating origin of eternal freedom the same origin as that still small voice compelling you to follow confidently.

But though the trek is long and arduous, despite future uncertainty, you embrace the joy set before you as a constant rising and a call to worship. One way or another, you will complete this crusade and discover a new depth of truth you never thought possible.

A once foreign light illuminating a stable place, now an inspiration for yours to walk from.

Fast-forward to present day and you are where you are. What a ride it’s been…

Unlike many, you may believe you have something to offer outside your realm of expertise, something to contribute outside your wheelhouse of benevolence. You may have that itch inside wanting to pour out in a fresh way – your modern-day equivalent of frankincense or myrrh on standby.

However, like many, you may be waiting for a catalyst to surrender and sacrifice when in reality, the time is now to sojourn into deeper waters, to try a new course. Granted, I can only speak so far into anonymous situations. Yet, I know for me, as one who anticipates burning bushes that never come, I must be ready to render those focuses off-center and recognize the Spirit as “star power” capable of illuminating the way I’m to go.

Which brings me to my point for today: You may feel depleted and broken, perplexed and confused; you may be overwhelmed or overthinking.

Yet, regardless of your circumstances, if your 3:00 am restroom break is on the verge of turning into a brutally early wakeup call, guess what! That same star of wonder, the same star of night…is still alive and well today to guide you into whatever perfect light you need to walk in.

You see…for the magi, they lived for this. Even as they (literally) contemplated their next steps from illumination, the timely cost of multiple years and the emotional cost of social and occupational inconveniences didn’t deter them from making one of the most epic expeditions in the Roman era. Put another way, before the wise men could fathom the historical repercussions of their Messianic voyage, they had to first contest the ramifications of their surrender; hence, why as brilliant as they were, their greatest asset was not their wealth of knowledge and resources, but a corporate humility to recognize eternal prominence.

And in the hustle and bustle of the holidays upon us, that’s why I’m writing this – to implore holy inventory and discourage whatever annual defaults we’ve accepted to justify idleness and self-preservation. I can’t make sense of the pain my family and I feel right now. I can’t make sense of the pain you likewise may feel as we close out the year.

But for all I don’t know, what I do know is basic spiritual probability. Specifically, if my attention isn’t anchored to holy light, then chances are my call to mobility and a humble returning will be compromised.

Yes, I miss Juby, the times life felt more stable, even the opportunities I could have been truer to my faith. Yet, amidst the chaos, I remember that stable place 2,000 years ago and those who released their inhibitions to adore what matters most in all eternity. For all of us, may this truth be the centerpiece of any Christmas stirring as we approach 2023.

Selah.

Cover graphic creds: Wallpaper Cave

Miracle in the Making: The Jubilee Journey (Finale)

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Jubilee’s goodbye letter as shared during 1:10:00-1:17:23 of today’s Celebration of Life live stream: https://youtu.be/xUD-NkRrzvk

Dear Jubilee,

For almost two weeks, I’ve been trying to find the words. There’s so much I want to say but don’t know how. So, I’ll start with the obvious.

I love you. Not more than you know, but as you now know.

Indeed, in this moment, I write to you within the ultimate paradox. Having fought with you for 13 months along with your mom and two of the world’s best NICU medical teams, I was desperate to see you experience fullness, not just of health but of life, love, and whatever joy you could possibly know within your fragile state. Now, look at you, all smitten and sassy, safe in the Father’s arms aware of that fullness in ways I can’t possibly understand. The world’s greatest former micro preemie fighter…at peace with her Creator. His breath is in your lungs as you pour out your praise.

No question, you challenged and changed many hearts from the ones entrusted to your care to ones who barely knew you. From your primaries to prayer partners across the globe, you reminded us how special each day truly is, and how much the present is a gift you can never take for granted. Packed within a year of forced rest, you compelled us to take baby steps into unchartered belief, to ride the waves far out of our depth.

Yet, through it all, we fell in love with His might and light in your fight. Christ in you, Christ in us, we learned how to be content at the end of our rope. how to fall and press into Jesus at the same time, not to mention the technical terms, the bells, and whistles of a brave, new world.

Often, there was much to take in, much beyond our ability to process. And so, we prayed. Every day. Without ceasing…that the same Spirit behind your smile, that fueled your tenacity would be known across the hall, down the aisle, from the parking lot and front desk to each emergency, operating, and visitation room. Every day. A chance to stiff-arm the ‘why’ and embrace the strive-less rhythms of grace. Every day. An opportunity.to gaze into your eyes to find God looking back at us through them.

In a way, you inspired joy in persevering through chaos and crisis. You taught us how being still in weakness is, in fact, strength. And you reminded us how surrender must also rise with hope, how to embrace those mini-Gethsemane moments throughout each day: Not my will but yours be done.

To your mother and I, your sister and brothers, we marvel at the vessel God designed you to be, the way you took in unity, prayer, and love and churned out life upon life on the other side. Granted, your days were numbered less than what we would have hoped. Still, we know in this grand mystery, there is purpose, hope, and freedom within the appointed number of days God called to your earthly tenure.

And so, I stand here with a new appreciation of the question I must ask. For it is not, ‘Why did God let you die’, but rather ‘Why did God let you live?’

Past day 1 when you had no business surviving traumatic labor at 25 weeks. Past day 80, when both your lungs collapsed. Past days 290-340 during which you coded over 15 times.

Why did God let you live?

While your family and I will have many years to discern the answers, for now, I want you to know it is well in my soul God called you to reflect childlike faith, wonder, and helplessness for 393 precious days and it is well in my heart God anointed you to inspire NICU personnel and families towards the loving arms of Jesus, to help them consider what is it that kept you going, kept fighting, and kept defying the darkest of diagnoses.

As for ending this letter, having embarked on this joyful journey like no other, I ask one more question, one I’ll be sharing with many who know and will know your story. And that is, based on the legacy of your life, ‘How is it we must never be the same again?’ To quote your great grandmother whose husband you now know, “you were a diamond loaned to us from God’s ‘stash’, a pure, bright, beautiful solitaire to show us how beautiful heaven must be.” Of course, with your former limitations and restrictions on earth, a celestial, prismatic perspective may seem farfetched. But to me and your family and friends sitting in this room today, the metaphor hits home. Like a unified tribe, we’re all witnesses to how you reflected eternity through epic resilience. From a micro-preemie plagued by chronic lung disease and pulmonary hypertension to one born again into paradise, we celebrate not only your victory and triumph over sickness and death but relish the truth that for thousands of people, your face is now a thumbnail capturing the kind of Romans 5 endurance they want to run the rest of their life with.

Creds to the Master. Tell Him we’re forever grateful for the Year of Jubilee, for having the chance to love and support you as your immediate and extended family. True, there was a lot of pain amidst the patience and perseverance during your short life. But as C.S. Lewis once said, while God whispers to us in our pleasures and speaks in our consciences, He shouts in our pain. For it is pain that insists on being attended to as His megaphone to rouse a deaf world. So, as we say goodbye in this setting, as a community who loves you, we declare the voice you now have via the Almighty as one that will heal the brokenhearted, proclaim liberty to the captives, and announce favor and grace to those who mourn. The joy of the Lord as your strength, help prepare the way for the risen Lord.

After all, the season’s changing and God is rebuilding everything. So, we will listen with humble hearts, with gladness and gratitude, to the people shouting, ‘This is Jubilee’.

With sincerest affection and adoration,

Dad

Cover photo by Cameron J. Fry