I Thought I Was Ready

"It's ok to say 'I'm not ok with this' when the pain is fresh and you don't know what to do. But also be kind to yourself and remind yourself that someday…it will be."

I'm currently sitting in an airport in Mumbai, India, about 12 hours post leaving my kids and family for the second time. And everything has been going fine since this morning. I was able to leave the school this morning after hugging all my kids and family and not shed a tear. One of my oldest boys and I went to the airport and I didn't cry when he left. I didn't really even cry when the plane took off. I think its because I left so many times for small trips here and there this year. It was a busy time in my life. And honestly I feel like i'll be going back in a week tops.

But then I got on the plane and got a little bored with the flight. So I decided to take out the cards that some of the boys made for me that morning in my house. The funny thing is that the arts and crafts stuff that I left on my table was for the sake of writing and decorating letters to them. They ended up using all the stickers for my own letters they wrote to me.

But when I started reading their messages to me, I realized I was not ok. I realized that these new kids had opened up and occupied a certain spot in my heart that can't be filled with anyone else on this carnal planet. I realized that even though I was able to hold it together when I left this morning, I may break down later. I may wake up in the middle of the night in America and realize that I'm in America and that I'm not waking up from a dream, sleeping in my mosquito net too small for my large body. The boys won't be beyond the wall sleeping or being loud or wanting to squeeze themselves into every single part of my life. The girls won't be across the hill. They won't be able to wish me good morning and they won't tell me about their exercise that some of the other girls laugh about and call "simply stretching"

The boys won't knock on my door and ask me how I slept. They won't try to jump on me. They won't call me to go for food and I won't have bread for breakfast. Many things won't happen as they have for the past year and I'm simply not ok with it. I thought I would be. But I'm simply not.

I don't know how life is going to be when I get back to America. I'm sure ill eat my cupcake and have my pizza and burritos and see my family that I have missed over the year. But I can't promise that the high associated with being back in America and having good cell phone service will last very long. I've realized it's going to be a little lonely on that side of the pond. I won't be responsible for 39 boys of various ages. I won't have to tell them to get up for food or go to class. I won't have to make sure they're not roaming around at night time. I won't have them inside my personal space every waking moment of my life, which I actually didn't mind. I won't have any of that and it will last more than the usual week when I was away on work.

And all these things and more remind me that I'm actually not ok. And I don't know how long it will take me to recover, to get through this reentry into American life and working in a structured environment and all the other things that come with being back in the land of the free. I don't know how many times ill cry. I don't know how many days I will want to do nothing but just sit at home looking at pictures of them because i'll miss them so much. I don't know how many functions i'll miss back in America because i'll be busy trying to call my kids and see how they are doing.

I don't know how long i'll not be ok.

But even in all of this, I know that I will be. I've been listening to one of bae's favorite songs by Tori Kelly called "A Soul's Anthem." Its her rendition of the hymn "It is Well" which is a powerful hymn to start out with. But I've been singing it to myself for about a week now as I got ready to go. The song came with its inclusion of tears and ugly faces but I still kept listening to it. I needed to know in my mind that it was well in my soul despite the myriad of emotions and personal things going on in my life right now. I needed to know that it is well with my soul even though all I want to do is lounge in one of the boy's beds reading them a bedtime story or listening to them tell me something and touch my hair as if they are still completely fascinated with my style of curls. I needed to know that even if for some reason I don't ever come back to this country, that it was well. Do I want that last thing to happen? Of course not. But do I have to always be ready for the possibility? You bet your sweet face I do.

So I've been trying to be ok. And I will keep trying. Will I reach that point soon? God only knows. Am I ok now? No, and thanks for asking. Will I be ok? I suppose so.

But for now I think I haven't come to terms with the fact that It may take me a little longer than I expected to be ready for this part of my life.

But It's Worth It

"Do a work that's worth it. This way, when it batters and bruises you, or maybe hurts and uses you, at least you can say you counted the cost and it was worth it."

I never thought I would return to this jungle "paradise" for a second time. Even so, here I am for the third time. I use the word "paradise" lightly because some wouldn't believe that everyday life here is equal to any paradise they've ever known. Yet, it's works for me. 

I assist in caring for 30-45 boys ranging from ages 9-22 years of age. This includes some students-turned-staff who I cared for from before, who although older and juggling more responsibilities, still require guidance as they navigate it all. The job can be taxing, as my own responsibilities seem to multiply with each passing day: covering cuts and bruises, leading expeditions of discovery, responding to every question and concern the boys can possibly think of. 

Caring for them has taught me numerous lessons, like the need of structure and discipline in the lives of children, or that sometimes kids don't need anything except to know that you are there. Sometimes they just want to be around you because they know that you care. And for these kids, thats goes a long way. 

Living with these boys, especially, has given me some understanding of the nature of parenting. Do I have all the answers yet? No. Have I made many mistakes? Yes. Am I on my knees enough asking the Lord for continued wisdom and guidance? I know I should be in that position more often because this job is hard. Eating last or sharing your food because you want them to be fed is hard. Disciplining behavior that is not acceptable hurts more than I thought it would. Staying up late or losing sleep so that they can rest and be well taxes the body. Its a sacrifice.

Yet, its not a true sacrifice in comparison to Christ's that He made for each and every one of us. It wasn't convenient for Him to give up His place in heaven to save retches like us. It was difficult beyond compare to walk the life of humility and self-denial. It hurt to have His people deny and crucify him. But to Him, it was worth it. For the chance to choose Him, He took each stripe willingly. For our salvation, He died our death. 

Likewise, it's worth it for me. To see their smiles, it makes the thousand questions worth answering. To see them happy, its rewarding to adventure even when tired . To know they feel loved and cared for, it's worth it to give what I can. 

My prayer is that I never grow tired of doing for them what the Lord has done for me. He never gave up on me; so by His grace, I will have the strength to never give up on these kids. For if I have learned anything from my many escapades to my little paradise, just being loved by them makes it one hundred percent worth it. 

Hobey ho

Sir Kam 

Debt free, broke, and a world traveler

It's better to have no money but have experience be your currency than for you to be rich, ignorant and lifeless.— quote


In 17 days, I'm going back to my second home again for the third time. India, for periods here and there, felt like my first home because of all the family I had made and all the experience I had. It has that way about it, where the people there reminded me of my home family with all the traits that come with home life: love, trials, frustration. I just rounded off my third full year back in America and in February of next year, I will have known my kids in India for 4 years.

It truly is wild to think that 4 years ago they weren't around because they have been so crucial in the most recent years of my life. I don't say thank you enough to the Lord for allowing me a place in their intricate life and for the opportunity to be loved and cherished in this capacity. I think I'll say thank you more and maybe begin to see the blanket of blessings drowning me because of them.

Many people are surprised that I'm going back for the third time. They say, "you must really like it there huh?!" To which I reply, "oh yea, best year of my life." I really want to give a whole speech on how drastically such an experience has made me who I am today, but then I remember that most people don't really have the time nor the desire to hear the entire story. I've learned to be ok with that.

I accomplished my goal and little "plan" for my life since I came back the first time. I spoke with the Lord and told Him how I wanted to come back to America for the purpose of getting my nursing experience and paying off my loans. Those were my two biggest goals. I knew I wanted to do this mission work overseas thing for the long term, and I didn't want to be held back because I had to pay off school loans for the rest of my life. Not about that. But the funny thing is, the Lord orchestrated my life in such a way, even with the occasional bump in the road, that this dream became a reality in seemingly record time for the amount of debt I had.

Sure I'm broke now, and never had such little money in my working life and it truly makes me depend on the Lord for supplying my needs from His unseen treasury; yet, I'm ok with that. I have a sense of purpose at my young age that many don't feel they have by the time they're fifty. I've lived in many ways, more than others, but have so much more to experience; and that's the exciting part. And it's this experience that has truly shaped me from the Kameron of 2014 to the Kameron of 2018. My world travels and have opened up the doors of life with abundance and shown me that there are plenty out there who need to know Jesus. And not just know Him, but know Him and be ready for the world's last closing events. They shall be rapid ones as we are told. Therefore, I have grown ok with not living the typical American life where it can be very easy to find comfort and security in what one can do for oneself. I think I'd rather live my life trying to do what I can for those who need it and counting on God to do what He does for me, for them, and everyone else.

My goal for this next stage of my life is to be more serious and work on my relationship with Him and always stay within His will even when I'm broke and living from experience to experience. Whether this next stage has me on a high of life or in the drudges of my darkest times, I want to look up and still be able to see Him. I want Him to be proud of me and me to always call Him my Father. I want to always have my name in His Book of Life and hold tight to my crown, for nothing in this world is worth losing out on that. And you can take that to the bank.

So here's to no more loans, being broke in the world but rich in the Lord and the experience of being loved by an all powerful and all amazing Father. I'll toast to that.

Hobey ho and here we go.

Kam

Uncertainties

The following is a past blog post that I never completed until now.


"We must be content with God's no's just as much as we are content with His yes's" -- Momma Jeri

The last couple of weeks and months have been an absolute world wind of emotions and events. Every time I call Ella, something else has happened at our little jungle haven. More of the kids have moved on to bigger and sometimes better things. It's uncertain what exactly they will be doing.

At the moment, I also don't really know when I'm going back to India. Not that I'm not going at all; that would be almost suicide. But with all the uncertainties surrounding my kids's locations, I have had to reconsider how much time I would need to actually go see them all.

A couple of months ago, I put in another request for an additional two weeks time to make my "across the world" trip. I awaited approval, moved the dates around a couple of times, and then waited some more. My official requested time was two extra weeks tacked on prior to my original departure date. Ella wants to come back with me, and I promised her that I would.

I waited some time from my nurse manager who makes the schedule to get back to me. I remember getting up in the middle of the night just to check online if the time had been approved, like a kid waiting for a snow day to appear. I began to get obnoxious after waiting for some time. I sent my scheduler some emails asking when the days were going to be considered. I just wanted to know what to do and whether or not I needed to buy my ticket. I needed a yea or a no so I could stop biting my nails.

After some weeks, she finally sent me an email that my nurse manager would have to approve it herself. The next day, my nurse manager called me into her office. The conversation wasn't long and I won't go into detail about what we discussed. In the end, she couldn't give me the extra time I requested because we were understaffed and it was bad timing. Even though I didn't agree with her reasoning, I said my respects and left the office.

I was angry, of course, because I didn't get what I wanted. After talking with some coworkers about it, they told me I could go through the grapevine to get some of the time back. Their original idea sounded great, a little shady, but great. However considering its nature and how it could affect me at work, destroying my integrity, my character, the character of Christ that was I was trying to emulate, I decided against it.

Instead I wrote a letter. It was sappy. I chronicled some highlights of my time there. I told a story, shared a joke and tried to pull at the heart strings of my boss and have her see things in my eyes.

After much prayer, soul searching, and weighing all my options, I sealed the note in an envelope and slid it underneath the door of my manager and walked out, not looking back.

Much like Jesus wants us to pick up our cross, follow Him, and not turn or even look back into the lives we just left. I'm 100 percent sure that what He has in store is better for us than the life we used to live. Yes there are some very big uncertainties about where he is going to lead you and what He is going to require of you; and yet, I was once uncertain about if this year overseas was a good idea. Many were. I was proved wrong of course. It was worth every leap of faith and ounce of trust I mustered.

And so now I have to wait again.

What is my boss going to say? Will she be merciful and let me have the extra time for the sake of some long lasting joy that I will forever cherish? Or will she be merciful and do a greater work in not letting me go because there is something else God has planned.

Not certain. But I'm learning to be ok with that.

Here we go.


Kameron Carter

How Will They Hold Up?

"We must teach our children to rely on Jesus from an early age when we parents are around; because truth of the matter is, we won't always be. And when we're not, we can only hope that one lesson they will remember from us: and that is to always lean on Jesus."

In 34 days I will get on a plane and fly to India, if the Lord allows. It's crazy to think that 8 months has passed by since I originally bought the ticket and was approved to go. And even though I won't be able to stay for the time I would like, I'm trying to count the blessing that I am going.

I was talking to Ella today (who is still at the school in India), like I do often, reminding her of my soon return. I know she always cringes when we speak on this topic because it sends her through the series of thoughts that I had over a year ago: my time is almost up. You see, she'll be leaving with me after my month's excursion there to come back to the states with all its contrasting cultures, sights, sounds and lifestyles. She will have been present in our little jungle school with our 27 and her 40+ children (the extra are like step kids to me that I don't know well) for 26 months.

That's over 2 years

That's a wow moment in my mind and I am jealous everyday that I realize this opportunity she has had.

At first when we would talk about her coming back, she would tell me how she wasn't sure how she was going to hold up after leaving those faces for the last time. After leaving the smiles. After leaving the laughs. After leaving the jokes. After leaving the good times and the bad times. After leaving the tears and weary moments. I know it's hard and I have always told her it's going to be. I would know cause I went through it. I have told her on how I handled my situation and how I am still handling the reality today.

But this time she asked, "but Kam, how will they hold up?!"

And then it hit me.

"For the kids we have together, they will be losing their mother and their father at the same time for the first time in 2 years. And the ones who don't know you, it doesn't matter because their peers will be sad and so they as well will feel the pain"

The convo went something like that.

And I've been thinking back on that convo for the entire day.

What will my kids do? How will they react?

How will they hold up?

Will the girls cry longer and harder than when I left? Probably. But who will they cry with?

Will the boys act out in some kind of anger or sadness as a result of our absence? But who will calm them down?

Will the kids believe in their abilities through Christ and continue to walk the narrow path all the way to heaven? But who will show them?

Who will hug them even when they don't want to be hugged, be that shoulder to cry on or that listening ear?

Who will love them as I hope Ella and I have?

Well of course the answer to that is: God

Seems easy enough.

But I wonder if we truly believe it. As bible believing Christians, do we believe the promises that are littered in the bible? Do we claim them with the faith of Jesus and the assurance that He will keep them as it written?

More importantly, do our kids know that Jesus is everything we have been trying to emulate and point them towards over the past 26 months?

Because if they don't, then we have failed. Big time.

Because in this time that we have been given to love as Jesus loves us, I pray that a picture of Jesus has been painted that will always been seen in the eyes of our kids.

They will know that even though miss Ella and sir Kam, mommy and daddy, are gone, Jesus will be there.

He will laugh with them, cry with them, correct them when they have wronged and smile when they have done pleasing things in his sight.

He will be the only consistent Being ever in their life and I want that to be enough.

Because this is going to be like a heart break. I know it will be for me; so I can only imagine what their little minds and hearts will be growing through.

However, I am trying to believe that we have showed them enough Jesus, that they will know He is there. Always

That He will be the shoulder to cry on when we leave. That He will be able to handle all the frustration and anger and doubt they may have in their minds and hearts about our departure. That He will be and always has been the best Father and Mother ever.

It's the only thing that's held me together, for this period in my life has been most challenging. And for our kids, after we leave, they may enter into some of their most trying times as well.

Truthfully, the only and best thing I can do is pray they will lean on Jesus. Every. Day. Of. Their. Lives.

Because He's a solid foundation. And enough. And why I live, especially in the hard times.

May they do so.

Mercy.

365 days of Separation

"Even when more time passes, it doesn't necessarily get easier. You just become more accepting of the things you can't change."

365 days ago, I was scrambling for the last couple of things to put in my bag. 

I was finishing up the final touches of the kids' gifts and putting them into a box

I was gathering the belongings I didn't want to take back to America with me. 

I was preparing to leave home. 

I remember how fast it all happened. I gave some quick hugs to the boys down in the hostel and went up to load my things into the winger. I gave the girls their pictures from me with little messages. I tried to keep looking in their faces to remember exactly how the Lord made each one uniquely different, uniquely beautiful and uniquely handsome. 

I didn't cry as I was preparing to leave even though it would happen. I know this only happened this way because I insisted/demanded that I be able to take my oldest boys (Muthu, Robert, Suban, and Silas) with me. I didn't care if I had to pay for their way there and back; I was not leaving this home alone.

In the last moments I did the one thing that was seen down upon for so long: I gave all the girls hugs. I figured it was my last day and I didn't care that it wasn't the most appropriate thing in Indian culture. I was going to hug my kids if it was the last thing I did to show them another token of my love. 

I hugged Ella last. It was tender. As my illegit wife and mother to my 27 kids, I was going to miss her most definitely. Who was going to stop the foolishness and eat pancakes with her? Who was going to make pancakes for her?? Who was going to be the pb to her J, the black to her white, the illegit husband to the family we had formed? 

I gave her a real American hug and she cried.

I got on the winger and we began to drive away and And I remember thinking this was a terrible dream. After the kids left my line of sight I remember looking up at the boys hostel and seeing Roben and Mama wave goodbye. I didn't give them a proper parting. 

The rest of the day was only bearable because I had my boys with me. They made the sting not as bad. We took pictures and laughed and reminisced. But I was crying inside. I was only going to be with them a couple more hours. Then I may never see them again. 

The airport drop off was a bit much for me. I gave them all my last pieces of young wisdom and gave them all long hugs and told them to behave. I dropped some money in their hands and pushed my bags into the airport. I kept turning back to see their faces one last time. When they were out of sight's view, that's when the realization began to hit me and I went into a state of anguish and panic. 

The tears were trying to come but I promised myself I would keep it together until I got on the plane. 

Side note: I lost it in the plane 

And so now it's been 365 days, on this blessed thanksgiving that I hit the anniversary. It's quite a way to spend thanksgiving seeing as how last time I was traveling during it and this year I have plenty to be thankful for even with them alone. 

I am thankful I had the privilege to teach and be taught. Thankful to love and be loved seriously. Thankful to be called their "sir" their "dad". 

Not everyone gets this luxury you know. Not all persons get the opportunity to love and be loved by such a great group of people. Not everyone gets the opportunity to see Jesus in such a way 

Being back in the States is still no easier today than it was at day 1. I think I'm just learning contentment with the way things are. Many days, things are falling apart overseas and I want to just play the hero and help Out my kids and family there. But then the Lord reminds me that He holds them even more closely than I do. He loves them even more deeply than I do. He's so much more for them even than I am. 

And while being here may some days be the worst, I'm learning a daily lesson that God is writing my story and right now, they just aren't in the chapter the way I would want them to be. 

Don't worry, they are still a part of my life. I have never tried so hard to stay in touch with a group of people. Calling, FaceTimeing and sending packages to them are some of my favorite pastimes. I am determined to let them know that just because I am physically gone, I am never really gone. I think it paints a faint picture of How even though Jesus isn't physically with us walking and talking with us, He's even more present in our lives than the person on the other side of that thin wall... If we let him be. 

So with that, I'll keep pushing and pressing on the upward way, and with Christ at the center, I'll make it.

I am going to see my kids in a few short months and that keeps me going too. However I am praying that the promise of seeing them in heaven forever if we all choose Jesus is a bigger push for Christ like perfection and surrender. 

Because then the only separation we'll have is one of how long it takes our wings to get us back together. And I think I can deal with that degree of separation. 

Hobey ho and Lord come quickly and grant us mercy 

6 months

"Your children growing up is one of the most tragic things a parent can face....but a far greater tragedy would be them never growing up and making their own mistakes and using their own wings. You may never have them together again in the old ways, but the new ways are just as beautiful and perhaps you treasure them more because you know how fleeting they are."  -- The Marie Tenold

I have a little less than 6 months until I get to return home. I know using the word "home" may be strange because I have been back in America for the same amount of time as I was originally gone. And that is kinda scary. Scary because it's surreal to know it actually happened. Also surreal to know that it could happen again. That I could go back. That I could see my kids again. Very surreal.

I haven't written a blog in over 8 months. That's more than half a year. I'm not really good at this blog thing. But I'm going to try to post things here and there until my return to India.

I've been talking to my kids per usual and it's still the highlight of each week when I get to hear their voices, see their faces through FaceTime, or just knowing they are alive and well. I stay pretty updated with Ella still being there. I can't imagine how different it would be if she was not around. I wouldn't know anything. The kids tell me stuff sometimes, but normally I have to ask them about subjects that Ella gives me the scoop about.

Like today, I talked with my Assam-hero son, Robert, also the pretty boy jock of my boys. He was telling me his aspirations to be a doctor and was weighing his options. To do or not to do. He knows he would be behind but I tried to assure him that if he really wanted to help ppl in that way, then he would have to be committed and just do it. Praying about it was of course my first advice concerning it all. He mentioned that if he decided to take on the challenge, he would have to live in Pune with his friend and work and go to school out there. The schooling in that part of India is better than in Kolkata or Meghalaya. Even though I was excited about the possibilities, i was reminded of another sad truth that continues to hit me again and again in the face: when i return to India, things will not be the way they used to be.

Things have been changing since the day I left because change doesn't wait to happen while you're away. It keep happening. Many of the teachers have left and more will be leaving soon. many teachers have arrived and more will come soon. Many of my students (kids) have gone to new schools, gone home, plan on going to other schools, and so on. other students, ones who aren't my kids, have showed up and changed the structure of Springs of Love School. when i step back on that beautiful red, muddy soil, the sun will be shining differently, the rain falling in a different direction, and the air will have a foreign smell, because things will not be as they once were. 

i will be elated to see my kids. don't you worry about that. however, i won't see them all at the same time. i will probably spend more time traveling to see this kid or that one or this staff or that staff than actually settling down and enjoying it all. it will be 30 days of memory-making and i plan to make years of memories in the days given. 

even though i discuss with Ella how much i wish things were back in the olden days with all 27 kids and funs times, she always prepares me with the cold hard facts that it won't be that way. "why do my kids have to grow up and graduate?" "why do they have to go onward to work and university and marriage and moving away and all the other things that life throws at you?" "why can't we all just stay in one place and repeat the same year over and over again, a vortex of time that can't be added to or taken away from?" i don't want them to grow up and leave me, even though i have already left them. i don't want to return as the missing piece to our beautiful puzzle picture, just to realize that I'm not the only piece missing.

and then Ella hit me with the deep quote from her mother, who we just call, Marie. (refer to the cat poster worthy deep quote above)

how right she is, i realize. its a sad situation but one i must accept. even though i would love to return and it be like feb-nov 2015, deep down, i know its better for that not to be the case. my kids need to move on. they need to grow. they need to fall down. they need to get back up. they need to make mistakes. they need to realize those mistakes and apologize. they need to forgive. they need to hurt. they need to have joy. they need to smile, to cry, to laugh, to sing, to dance, to live. they need to live without me. not that i can no longer be a part of their lives, but that they can do what i am doing now: living on my own trying to do this adult thing and living for Jesus the best way i know how. moreover, praying that i can do something with this little old life that has been given to me. i know my parents would hate to have me still living in the house, not making choices, and making mistakes, and taking risks, and risking my comfort, and stepping out in faith and the like. they don't like to have me or my other brothers out of the house and doing our own things; but i do know they take comfort and pride knowing that we are living. that we are going. that we are moving on, growing, falling down, getting back up, apologizing, hurting and having joy, smiling, laughing, crying, and cutting out our own path in this life. I know they pray that God's light will be what is leading me and that i will keep my eyes on him no matter what. because honestly, this is not our final home as we know. but sometimes i wonder if we believe it. 

this really isn't our final home. its full of goodbyes, and hurricanes, and death, and hunger, and crazy elections, and proud people, and pointless activities, and lacking what God truly wanted us to have: communion with Him. And since He can't go on too much longer without having us near Him, He's preparing to come back. which is more surreal than the thought that i have been back in america for 10 months. 

and considering that my trip back to india will also be short-lived, i want even more for Jesus to come back so we can all stop crying and falling down and being apart, and be smiling, and laughing, and getting up and being together forever. but in order to do that, we all have to walk our own paths, go our own ways. each one will be specifically unique and beautiful. however, for those who make it, we will see on the end that we were all just one small thread on the same rope bound together by Jesus who pulled us along the way. and that's kinda cool to think about. 

so i am learning to let go but hold on to the assurance that my Jesus will make it all right again. he will bring us back together again for longer than 30 days and we won't have to go through the turmoil of being apart. he will wipe tears, and cast our fears forever, he will tear down walls and put up ones that keep evil out. he will have us all in one place and that place will have him at the center. and what a day, glorious day that will be.

and so the countdown begins again. 6 months until i go back. ____ months until the great Comeback where we'll all be making memories and smiling and being together forever and all that jazz.

even so come, Lord.

even so…

Praise be.