I stared at the dozens of cardboard boxes stacked up to the ceilings of my garage. They had been sitting there, gathering cobwebs, for months. I had moved most of the other materials to a storage unit almost a year earlier, where I had stashed all of my extra unsold boxes. There were still some boxes stacked up in my garage, a daily reminder of what a wonderful dream it was — and still is, somewhat.
I started the company CampKit in 2020 at the very beginning of the pandemic. It began as an idea — literally a dream I had one night, and woke excitedly to scribble it down. I called my friend Jordan to partner with me, and in less than 6 weeks we pulled together a product and launched a business. It was exhilarating and exciting, and we got off to a strong start. We shipped out dozens of boxes on our first official day, and continued to ship out boxes throughout that first summer.
But neither of us had really thought past the pandemic, or the viability of our product after. We created CampKit in response to a need: kids weren’t going to be able to go to camp, so we would send camp home to them.
But what would happen when kids started going back to camps and life returned to normal?
Jordan and I played around with several different product ideas, and eventually launched a Thanksgiving-themed box in November, hoping to test the market to see if there was interest in continued products that offered camp-at-home experiences. We sold a handful, but we knew we needed to figure out where to go next.
In 2021, we had Zoom calls and slide decks and gathered a steering committee. We met for brainstorms and did our best to pull together another exciting product that we could launch to the world. But we were both getting back to our busier, pre-pandemic lives, and our ideas weren’t sticking. We did our best to keep the vision alive, and adapt it as we went, but we weren’t coming up with much.
We were also dealing with a huge oversupply of inventory. We had no idea what the demand would be for our first run, so we significantly overshot and prepared nearly double the number of boxes we ended up selling. On top of that, we had an excess of other supplies that we needed to deal with. And those supplies were sitting in my garage and in the storage unit down the street.
For months, I wrestled with what to do. In a last ditch attempt last summer, I set up a booth at a homeschool expo in Atlanta, hoping to garner some interest. We sold a handful of boxes, but the investment didn’t prove to be fruitful for the long run. I needed a new approach — but honestly, I was tired.
The same evening of the expo, I went on a date. It was my second date with Josiah (who I am still dating, to my delight!). Unexpectedly I began pouring out my heart about CampKit. I expressed my pride and love for what we had created, and I shared my fears and insecurities that it was all a waste. I felt like it had failed — like I had failed. I felt like I hadn’t done enough or tried hard enough to make it succeed. Had I truly committed to making CampKit thrive? Maybe if I had invested more in social media or online marketing? Maybe if I had quit my job to work on it full-time?
Walking with me as I talked, Josiah listened carefully to my woes and cares. He asked questions and let me talk, until finally he asked me something that stumped me: “What if only one kid got to hear the Gospel because of CampKit? Would it be worth it?” I stared at the ground as we walked. I wasn’t sure if I could honestly say it was. I wanted to do something big and important. I wanted CampKit to be remembered by many. Would it be enough if just one kid heard the Gospel?
Josiah followed up: “What if the one kid who got to hear the Gospel was you? What if the whole experience of creating CampKit and watching it grow and die was about you experiencing the Gospel in a new way? Would that be worth it?”
I spent the rest of the night — and the rest of last year — thinking about that question. Would it all have been worth it for just one kid to experience the Gospel?
Standing there in my garage, looking at the stacks of boxes filled with my dream, I wondered about that question again. I looked at these boxes in my garage every day, reminding me of how I had led a dream die. Suddenly, I felt a strong compulsion that it was time to move all of the extra CampKit supplies from my garage to the storage unit. Moving them would feel cathartic, like a release from the shame of failure. I loaded up my car with all the extra supplies, and drove over to the storage unit.
I have visited that storage unit countless times in the past year, and I have never seen another person there. But as I pulled up and began unloading, another car pulled up, and a woman walked over to the door where I was unloading. We greeted each other, and then she walked right up the unit directly below mine.
“I guess we’re neighbors!” I said.
She looked at all of the boxes and supplies scattered everywhere. “I’m sorry if I’m in your way! I’ve just gotta put this one thing away.”
“Not at all!” I said. “Take your time.”
After closing up her unit, she looked around curiously and asked, “So what is all of this, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“These are CampKits!” I replied. “It’s everything you need for a summer camp at home in a box. There’s Bible lessons, games, crafts, and all kinds of fun stuff inside.”
“Wow! So, what’s the age range for it?”
I told her and she lit up. “My son is 9, and he would love all of that. I work a lot, and his sister just got a job, so he’s often home alone with his grandma and is always looking for fun things to do.”
“So,” she asked, “how do I get one?”
I paused. I thought this might be where this conversation is going. I had shut down our LLC a few months earlier, so I couldn’t accept payment. I thought about asking her to Venmo me, but I felt the Holy Spirit nudge me.
“Honestly, you can just have one!” I climbed into my storage unit and grabbed a box from the stack. She was thrilled.
“He’s going to have so much fun with this!” she said.
“My name is Kate — what’s your son’s name? And yours?” I asked.
“I’m Holly, and my son is Carson.”
“Tell Carson to have so much fun and enjoy it.”
She nodded, and walked back to her car. If only one kid hears the Gospel…
As I kept packing up my storage unit, I reflected on the encounter with Holly. It was a reminder of why we created CampKit in the first place: to bring the joy of camp to the kids who couldn’t go to camp.
In the world’s eyes, I failed. My business didn’t grow. I lost money. It launched with a bang, and ended with a whimper, leaving me with a pile of useless inventory.
But my experience with CampKit has also redeemed my perspective on what success looks like in the Kingdom. It’s not measured by how many boxes I sold or how much revenue I produced or even how inventive or creative my ideas were. Success in the Kingdom is about simply being faithful to sow seeds, trusting God will make them grow.
I wanted CampKit to succeed, but more importantly I needed CampKit to fail. I needed it to fail in order to learn that its success doesn’t define my value. In its failure, God can do that work of the Gospel in my own heart — so that I can see that He is pleased with me, no matter the metrics of success of this world.
COMMENTS
4 responses to “Letting a Dream Die”
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This is wonderful Kate! So much beautiful gospel-filled counter-culture in this post. Thank you so much for sharing!
Well said, Kate.
I went through a similar experience. Although it’s really hard to convince myself that one client heard the lost the gospel because my law firm existed for a year. I think the thing I would say after my experience is that God is doing a work and us in our failures as well as our successes. The kid who needs to hear the gospel is often times you – the person who thinks they are bringing the gospel. So what is the gospel to you from this experience?
Can I order your kits?
I love your story, Kate!
I empathize with you on what the world deems as failure as I had an idea for sophisticated triathlon and marathons. My problem was I set my sights on financial success even though I had never been driven by money. On the days athlete3 made thousands of dollars I felt greedy, but when the company went bankrupt it was defeating. In retrospect I gave away as much as I sold to the disabled, children, pets, and practically anybody who couldn’t afford a cool tee shirt after spending thousands of dollars to experience a race. When I realized that I changed my way of thinking what success and bankrupt really means in the light of Christ.