She doesn’t mess around, in the best way. As a sequin-wearing, homeschooling mother of four–a woman who adores Jesus, people, and words–Kris Camealy loves to go deep. In relationships. In the pursuit of Christ. In leading women to be raw and vulnerable and open to God changing their hearts. She’s beautiful in her authenticity, her willingness to surrender and trust God in making us brand new.
Her eyes are big, gentle and kind. Her music is beautiful, her fingers upon keys, her body dancing, her voice singing out. In her words, her glory–I glimpse the more that is here. But she tells me she doesn’t see it. Her beauty. Her value.
She is displaced, feeling separate from the exquisiteness of her own soul even while she creates beauty, and is loved, so loved, here.
It is in the dark that I hear him. A voice confident. Robust. Jocular even. He fills the room, his response to my simple question so immediate, it is without question He was there all along.
I leave off the lights so there is nothing else I see. I want my heart to see. I want my heart to hear. There it is–my spirit inviting my soul to wake: Wake up! Wake up!
I love that sound. A declaration of a soul awaking. A warrior call to live, to not stay sleeping. It is my favorite sound.