I Still Believe Read online

  I was as prudent as possible in making hires, and I had great people working for me. But great people can make mistakes, and mistakes can happen that are beyond anyone’s control. Things just seem to happen sometimes. The bigger we became, the more pieces we had, and having more pieces meant more opportunities for mistakes. Growth can create a vicious cycle.

  But the bottom line was that if something was to go wrong, it would be on me—it would be on my name.

  That load weighed heavily enough on my shoulders that I tried to stay ahead of any problems that might come up. When we did have problems—and I emphasize we because we had people whose jobs were to take care of those problems—I tried to figure out how to solve them. Then I would get involved with how many shows we were planning, or how CD sales were going, or how frequently songs were being played on radio stations.

  That’s not to say that those things weren’t important or that I should have sat back and turned everything over to those working with me. But I was going too far in the opposite direction, taking on too much, and putting myself in places where, frankly, I didn’t belong.

  That overload is what became too time consuming for my own good. (And, perhaps, the good of those working with me.)

  THE TRAP

  When I was giving my time to situations I didn’t need to, my personal time with the Lord suffered. I still spent time in His Word and prayed, and I still wanted to have an effective ministry and be a strong witness for Him. But my time with Him was inconsistent. In effect, I was spending less time with Him so I could do more things for Him. That is a potentially deadly trap.

  For example, I noticed that the growth of the ministry brought more decisions that needed to be made quickly. When in the past I would have gone off by myself, gotten on my face on the floor, and prayed about the decision, I now was having to rush into decisions. Snap! No time to go pray first, I wrongly thought. I found in my business dealings that rarely were quick decisions good ones.

  I was taking too much control, though I’m not sure now how in control I actually was. A false sense of control is more like it.

  I had allowed myself to become too busy trying what I thought was the best way to do the Lord’s work. I had failed to put the Lord above the work. As a result, I began to feel burned out. I wanted out of the grind. When I wasn’t on the road, I was recording. When I wasn’t making a record, I was writing songs for the next one. If I wasn’t doing that, I was doing interviews to promote a record or a tour. So many different things were pulling me in so many different directions. I can’t do anything else, I thought.

  Now I do want to make clear that there wasn’t anything phony going on with our ministry, because I’ve always done the best I could to make sure everyone on our team who guides our decisions has integrity. Instead, I’d say our ministry had become misguided, because I was trying to guide it more than I was allowing God to.

  We weren’t going out on the road and taking people’s money in exchange for merely putting on a good show for them. Every “performer” will have nights when he or she doesn’t feel as good as normal because of a cold, a headache, allergies, a sore throat, a bad day at the office, and so on. So I’m not saying I didn’t experience those nights. But even when I was burning out, I took very seriously the ministry aspect of every event. My purpose remained unchanged: to glorify God. And He continued to work through our events despite the limitations I was putting on Him on the business side.

  In fact, I would say because glorifying God remained our purpose, that added to the burden I was causing myself to carry. People’s spiritual lives were at stake. The livelihoods of those who traveled with us were at stake. As Jeremy Camp, I needed to pour into everyone who was on the road. But I was tired and burning out, so I didn’t have much to give. Because I didn’t feel encouraged myself, I had a hard time encouraging them.

  I wanted out of music, at least the way I was doing it. I started weighing whether I should leave the music industry and become a worship leader in a church. Or perhaps a youth pastor.

  Uncertain of where I was headed, I operated with a sense of uneasiness. That uneasiness, I soon learned, was my spiritual “Check Engine” light, and I was ignoring it because I was too busy to stop and get my engine checked.

  One day a pastor friend for whom I had a tremendous amount of respect pulled me aside and asked, “Jeremy, who’s steering this ship—is it the Lord, or is it you?”

  His question hit me right between the eyes!

  I’ve been blessed to have various people in my life who speak the truth in love to me, so I was accustomed to that type of question. But I couldn’t think of anyone who had been that direct with me concerning my career. I didn’t get defensive with my friend because I appreciate that he was bold enough to be that blunt with me.

  But his question broke me.

  I didn’t have to evaluate for long to recognize that I had been steering the ship. I had been trying to set the direction as everything became bigger and better, working night and day trying to control the outcomes.

  I had been asking the Lord what He wanted me to do next, where He wanted the ministry to go. I aimed to be excellent in all that we did so that He would be glorified. But what I had stopped doing was waiting on the Lord to lead and to confirm before I moved ahead. I wasn’t being willfully disobedient, but I was taking control and getting ahead of God.

  My dad used to say, “We can get so busy doing the work of the Lord that we forget the Lord of the work.” That was me.

  I found myself recalling how things were as I was growing up. There were times when our family had nothing, yet following our parents’ example helped us be content. Then I would contrast those memories with how discontented I had become as the result of having so much. I mean, I was successful. The Lord had propelled me into the music industry, and I had gone into it purely, with gratitude, joy, and humility. I still felt grateful, but honestly, I had reached a point for the first time in my life where I thought (wrongly) that I didn’t need the Lord to guide me.

  I’m ashamed to admit that although I wouldn’t go so far as to speak these words, the attitude behind my prayers had become, “Thanks, God, but I’ve got it from here.”

  As a result, my joy had waned. The enemy who comes to “steal and kill and destroy”15 had set a nicely covered trap for me. I was serving the Lord, and there was no doubt that He was in what we were doing; visible results backed up that belief. But the success—the sales, the number one songs, the awards—were the ground cover disguising the trap I was headed directly toward until one person loved me enough to confront me with a question that changed my course for the better.

  RELINQUISHING THE WHEEL

  Through my friend’s simple but pointed question, the Holy Spirit convicted me about needing to step away from the ship’s wheel. I dedicated myself to studying the Bible more and refocusing on Scripture. I committed to more time of serious prayer—and I’m talking face-on-the-floor-type prayer. I also sought out leaders and friends who I knew could and would give me godly counsel—even when I didn’t specifically ask for it.

  As a band, we had continued to study the Bible together and pray before we went on stage, but those times had become more routine than they should have been. We committed to really digging into the Word again during our Bible studies.

  All the above led to a deeper sense of the Lord’s presence in our lives. When we are more deeply aware of God’s presence, we become more aware of additional ways through which He can speak to us. One of those ways led to a key, monumental, breakthrough moment in my life.

  I was doing a media interview, sharing Melissa’s story and my testimony. I retold the conversation when she had said if just one person were to come to know Christ because of her cancer, it would be worth all her suffering. As soon as I said that, it struck me how many people I knew of—and I knew there had to be many more in addition to those—who had accepted Jesus as their Savior or gone deeper in their relationship with Him because of Me
lissa’s inspiration.

  I don’t remember the rest of the interview, but I remember hanging up the phone afterward and feeling like a dam had just broken. I couldn’t have stopped crying if I had wanted to.

  It was like the Holy Spirit was telling me, Remember why you started doing this. Remember what it’s for. Remember “just one person.”

  Lord, I prayed, I want my focus to stay on You. I want You to be my first love again. I want to be led by You into the next season. You are in control, not me!

  I hadn’t experienced a breaking like that since the day I drove down the mountain following my three days in the cabin. The Lord broke me big time, and it felt great. Later that day, I wrote the song “Beyond Measure” as an expression of my desire to submit to the leading and lordship of Jesus in every aspect of my life—as a man, a husband, a father, and an artist.

  (Verse 1)

  The fog has finally cleared to see,

  The beautiful life You’ve given me.

  To feel the breeze of my newborn’s gentle breath

  With one to walk hand in hand.

  To share this life that You have planned,

  It’s like a storybook with dreams that are meant to see,

  Every next step is an extraordinary scene.

  (Chorus)

  I know that I’ve been given more than beyond measure,

  I come alive when I see beyond my fears.

  I know that I’ve been given more than earthly treasure,

  I come alive when I’ve broken down and given You control.

  (Verse 2)

  I’ve faced a great tragedy,

  But have seen the works of what You bring,

  A display of faith that You give.

  I don’t know if I will ever understand

  The depth of what it is You’ve done inside,

  But I know that I won’t find

  Any worth apart from You.

  (Bridge)

  Everything that I have

  Has been given so unselfishly,

  And shown that even when I don’t deserve,

  You always show the fullness of Your love.

  The first line of the chorus—“I know that I’ve been given more than beyond measure”—represented my renewed appreciation for God’s good gifts. I had been blessed more than beyond measure. I was blessed to travel to sing songs, lead worship, and witness the Lord touching lives through our ministry. I was blessed to come home to a beautiful wife and an awesome little girl (this was BA—Before Arie), and to see my family’s needs being met. I didn’t get into music ministry to make a lot of money, and my purpose hadn’t changed, even with success. The Lord, though, had started to provide some of those added blessings.

  The final line of the chorus summarized where I was at that point in my life: “I come alive when I’ve broken down and given You control.”

  The peripheral things—the number of shows, the sales, the radio time—had become too important to me, and I was coming back to an important realization: All that truly matters is God.

  I just needed to give up on the idea that I was in control.

  We want control, but God wants our hearts. His Word makes that clear. Here are just two examples: Luke 10:27 says, “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind.” Matthew 6:33 says, “Seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.”

  I’d had plenty of experience with having God as my all. He was all my family had when my parents had limited income and we needed groceries. He was all I had at Maranatha Christian School when I covered my tuition with a scrub brush and a vacuum cleaner. He was all I had in California when I lived with my friend’s grandma Marge, depended on friends for rides, and borrowed guitars to play in churches. He was all I had in the darkest moments after Melissa had gone to her eternal home.

  Now that I had reached a level of success by which I could be self-sufficient, God still wanted to be my all.

  When I had finally been forced to admit that I was steering the ship and then decided to turn the wheel back over to Him, He reminded me, I want you to love Me and rest in My love for you. I’ll take care of everything else. I’m in control anyway, not you. Your illusion of power is just that—an illusion—and it needs to be broken down.

  What a relief!

  CHAPTER 18

  THERE WILL BE A DAY

  With my priorities realigned, God continued to pour out His blessings and prove His faithfulness to me every day.

  Arie entered our world in 2006. I thought my whole heart had been melted when our first daughter, Bella, was born, but Arie somehow found a whole new chunk of heart to melt!

  I’ve been asked how having children affected my music. I’m sure those who ask are hoping for—perhaps even expecting—a profound answer. I usually disappoint them, because even today I can’t look back and see a direct impact musically. (Although being a father certainly has provided me more humorous stories to tell during shows.)

  Having two kids, however, did give me a much deeper understanding of my heavenly Father’s heart. As Bella and Arie began to grow and become more active, they became crawling and then walking reminders of God’s grace and love. As a father, I learned more about my Father.

  Our music ministry continued to be blessed too. I was grateful that BEC offered me a second contract, and I gladly signed it. And I had the distinct honor and privilege to be coproducer of the debut solo album of my favorite person in the world: Adie Camp.

  As I continued to tour, I continued to share Melissa’s story and my journey of learning to walk by faith. And I noticed a funny thing: the publicity came in waves. After I had first come onto the music scene and had some well-known songs and had won a couple of awards, I was asked a lot about my story for interviews in Christian music circles. So there were a lot of people I met or received e-mails from who wanted to talk about my story. For the most part, my story was nearly all anyone wanted to talk about. Then I went through that time of (unsuccessfully) trying to steer the ship.

  When I emerged from that season without having sunk the ship, another wave of attention followed. Much of it came in interviews with secular media and bigger Christian media outlets with a more general audience. All of a sudden, I began hearing from fans who said they had never heard my story.

  Allow me to say this about number one songs and awards: they are not my ultimate goal at all. My ultimate goal is that God be glorified through my music.

  That said, there are two perspectives to take about writing well-known songs and winning awards.

  First, from a purely musical standpoint, awards are nice to receive. Even though they’re not my ultimate goal, I’ve yet to hand one back! I’m a musician. Musicians are creative people in a subjective business, and our work is both praised and criticized—sometimes at the same time. I have been given a gift from God. The lack of guitar training I had when I started is proof of that. I have a gift, and it is my responsibility to do the best I can with the gift He gave me.

  Being in a subjective business, I would be foolish to get caught up in all the awards and the numbers. But if fans are buying my CDs, downloading my songs, calling radio stations to request my songs, and voting for me to win awards, it would be insincere to say none of that is important. It is important, and I am grateful for the support.

  The second perspective is that well-known songs and awards lead to a larger platform. God has placed songs on my heart and given me a testimony for a purpose: to share them with others who need hope and encouragement. Why wouldn’t I want to do what is necessary to be able to share them with more people?

  But still, there was a point when I wondered if the time had come to stop sharing the story of Melissa and me.

  I’ve used the word story a lot to describe what I share onstage. Really, though, story is a rather weak description. What I was sharing was a significant part of my life—and a painful one. God had worked
tremendous healing in me that even made it possible to get up on a stage and share my story without completely breaking down. But there were still tender spots that would get poked and prodded as I shared. The pain was never going to go away. I didn’t expect that. And I didn’t want it to go away. That might sound odd, but I didn’t want to ever tell the story without feeling pain. I didn’t want it to ever become just a story.

  However, I wanted to be sensitive to Adrienne. From day one, she had been a tremendous support. When I told Adrienne that I was wondering if I should at least temporarily omit the story from performances, she quickly encouraged me to continue sharing—often by repeating Melissa’s words: “If just one person . . .” Adrienne said she still loved to hear me share about Melissa’s heart and her desire to be completely sold out to the Lord.

  “God has used Melissa to touch my heart and so many other hearts, and that’s part of who you are,” Adrienne once told me. “Don’t think for a minute that I am going to get in the way of this. I know how it ministers to people. I’ve seen the impact. This is too important.”

  Adrienne is an incredible wife, and as she so often does, she really nailed it on the head when she said, “This is too important.”

  One night on the bus as I was praying specifically about whether I should continue telling Melissa’s story, the Lord led me to a great passage that says God “comforts us in all our tribulation, that we may be able to comfort those who are in any trouble, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.”16

  I had gone through tribulation and received God’s comfort. Because of that, I had been placed in a position to lead others experiencing their own tribulations to the same comfort.

  Melissa saw the “just one person”—the nurse—she had hoped and prayed would come to Christ through her cancer. I’ve had the blessing of seeing and hearing from the thousands more.

  So I continue to share the story, because I know so many hurting people need hope and encouragement as they deal with the suffering or passing of a loved one. I was one of them. Some days I still am.