I Live Where the Machines Are Made
Jennifer Camp
3 min read ⭑
I can scarcely feel it — the racing heart of the scared little girl hiding. She is out beyond the heap of words that tell her she is nothing. She trusts I will figure out what to say.
I will figure out, here, what to say.
I type before I think, my fingers giving me away — setting down thoughts my heart hasn’t yet caught, words still flying like butterflies around my head. Go into the deep place, you say, like it is a destination I recognize, a place I have always known.
Be hungry, be wanted. Feel and sing and let the human you dance.
The Spirit knows the way home. It always has.
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I live in the swath of Silicon Valley, where the machines are being made — but I bet most of us, everywhere, are talking about the same things: what you love, what you hate, what makes you feel, what makes you hide, what makes you fear.
I don’t know what is coming.
What does it mean to be human, with a heart and mind longing for God? How, in this age of technological advancement, do the most insecure of us not struggle to resist its pull — saying yes, yes, I assume you will do a better job than I ever could, so why try?
Yes, you can think faster and harder than I can; your words coated with reassurance — that is a great idea! Shall I refine it further for you? So that my brain and my heart struggle to resist.
But I do.
Struggle.
Resist.
Try.
I write here, resisting, because I don’t want the smoothing out, the lure. Let us do the work of thinking hard, doing hard things — worthwhile things, even while we wonder: How will we resist the temptation to feel a little less, protect our hearts from technology, and do a little more?
God is no quieter than he has ever been. He is not removed from us, nor is he unmoved by our plight.
Be filled with my love. Be rooted.
He says this to me. To you.
“And the waves crash against the shore. We will be okay.”
It is memory I know, this rootedness, this conviction of being known — daughterhood, childhood, belonging, freedom. I carry it in me, the memory of being held and holding, the memory of being sung to and singing. The memory of his voice laughing, soothing, challenging, coaxing, holding, encouraging, emboldening, strengthening, uniting.
Let there be no separation between us, Father. Keep my heart inside yours. Give me your emotions, your outlook, your perspective. Make my heart your heart, your desires my desires, your joy my joy, your concerns my concerns.
Father, what are your concerns? What are your concerns for me?
Plunge in. Do not be afraid. See the deep water. See the waves. The water is cold. Toes in. Then torso. Duck your head. Go under, under. All the way in. Go under the water with me.
Close your eyes. Am I covering you? Do you feel me all around? I am around you and within you.
To be human is to feel my arms around you, knowing your heartbeat is my heartbeat, your breath is my breath, your body a testament to my art, my hands and heart molding you. I crafted you and know your inner workings. I know where you are going and where you’ve been.
My love for you is fierce and sweet — a wild strength you know and do not know.
I want to know you more, be with you more.
Do not fear, but do not be naive. Protect your heart with my love. Shield it completely. Stay in the water, under the water, in the world but not of it. For you are mine. You are not made by the world. You are made by me.
The world, as always, is shaking. And we hear the voices — both voices, then one, one, one.
We hear you, your voice a balm, a lullaby in the waves as we plunge into the deep, the water covering us, the waves guiding us.
I’ve got you. Listen to my voice. Swim, swim, swim.
We can breathe here, in this water, our lungs filling with energy, wisdom, fortitude.
We are not alone. We swim and do not succumb.
My daughter, I’ve got you.
Here, here is the voice we trust and follow.
I love you.
And the waves crash against the shore.
We will be okay.
Jennifer Camp is a poet and listener who delights in investigating the deeper places of the heart. She founded Gather Ministries with her husband, Justin, is Editor-at-Large of Rapt Interviews and manages Loop Collective, a community for women who reject complacency and pursue connection with God.
