Book Publishing Announcement

Just what you have been waiting for...

A book featuring the Poetry Collection of Annette Camp 

Due for release June 1, 2026

Book synopsis:

I’m excited to share a glimpse of the poetry collection I’m currently working on, Healing Holy Heartbreak: The Rise From Ruin.

This collection is a deeply personal exploration of identity, faith, rejection, spiritual wounds, and the courageous journey toward healing. Organized into four sections, the book traces the path from the vulnerability of coming out and the pain of losing community to the struggle of surviving spiritual abandonment and the transformative work of reclaiming one’s sense of worth. At its heart is the belief that what has been broken can still become the beginning of something beautiful.

The collection opens with “Coming Out: The Courage to Be,” a reflection on the vulnerability of embracing one’s authentic identity after years of hiding, confronting the fear of rejection, and grieving the possibilities lost along the way. It reminds us that coming home to ourselves can be both painful and sacred.

In “Banished, Yet Blessed,” the poems explore the heartbreak of being cast out from a community once considered home. Through the loss of ministry, identity, relationships, and belonging, this section examines how rejection can become an unexpected invitation to discover a more authentic faith and a purpose that no longer depends on the approval of others.

“Shattered Sanctuaries and Survival” confronts the pain of spiritual condemnation and the devastation that follows when places once trusted for refuge become sources of hurt. These poems bear witness to spiritual abandonment, fractured fellowship, and the difficult work of finding hope, resilience, and belonging beyond the walls that once confined us.

Finally, “From Hurt to Healing” turns toward restoration, inviting readers to reclaim their identities, rebuild their sense of worth, and envision a future no longer defined by shame or rejection. This section affirms that healing does not erase the past; rather, it allows us to move forward without letting the past dictate what is possible.

Following each poem, Questions for Contemplation invite readers to pause and engage more deeply with the themes and emotions expressed in the poetry. These questions can serve as prompts for journaling, personal meditation, meaningful conversations, or spiritual exploration. They are designed not to provide definitive answers, but to create space for honesty, self-discovery, and growth.

Ultimately, Healing Holy Heartbreak: The Rise From Ruin is more than the telling of my own journey. It is an invitation for readers who have experienced rejection, questioned their place in a faith community, struggled to reconcile identity and spirituality, or simply needed to find hope after heartbreak. Through poetry and reflection, I hope to remind readers that even in the aftermath of profound loss, healing is possible, faith can be rediscovered, and beauty can emerge from the ruins.

Thank you for taking the time to learn about this project. I look forward to sharing more as the book continues to take shape.

Warmly,

Annette Camp

Impossible to Forget

Impossible to Forget

By Annette Camp 

September 7, 2026

Lake Skadar was a

sheet of water stitched

together with lily pads.

Lotus blossoms rose.

Gold with endless green,

as dragonflies flickered.

Here. There. Gone.

Large pelicans and

colorful ducks made

their quiet paths

through the water,

while magpies crossed

the sky in quick bursts

of black and white.

Several blue herons stood

patiently motionless

at the edge of the marsh.

Then, with a calm

authority, they each

glided over the

shimmering water.

Among the weathered

boats, the great lake

reflected the sky.

Not far away a man

with his eyes closed,

slept peacefully and

swayed in a hammock.

Cows grazed on patches

of land and their presence

is a reminder that this

wild landscape is also

a place where people

have lived beside nature 

for generations. 

For an hour, my world

felt vastly unhurried. 

The lake was not a place

to visit, but a place to

quietly witness beauty

and come alive

in the moment.

I was exactly where

I needed to be,

exploring this

sun-kissed day.

It's forever written 

into the landscape 

of my memory.

A lasting

imprint 

on my soul.

Impossible

to forget.

Hugged and Heard

Hugged and Heard 

By Annette Camp 

May 6, 2026

Before words assemble themselves,

arms arrive. Not to fix.

Just a chosen gesture.

There is silence. Not sentences.

Being held does not mean

being contained.

I am open. Made wider.

My voice is received.

My words invited this.

There is clarity in

this moment: Love.

And something shifts.

Letting my words exist

became an invitation.

My honesty was met

with understanding.

Willingness on my part

to place my truth where

others could see it with

unmistakable care.

I feel change take root

beneath my skin.

Open to what

continues to unfold.

I stay with the

stillness of this

moment feeling

hugged and heard.

The Weight of the Wedding Ring

For those of you who know my story, I finally got the words to express what I felt that day. For those who do not know, I came out as a lesbian at 16 years old. At 23, I found myself without a home and a guy who asked me 3 times to marry him. At that time, I gave in, believing I didn't have another option. The poem explains my feelings on the day of my wedding to a man I barely knew.

The Weight of the Wedding Ring 

By Annette Camp

May 1, 2026

I stand at the door before the ceremony.

My mother asks, "Why the tears?"

I dare not say they are the release

of what I do not speak.

My words have already been decided.

I do not want myself on the stage.

Others rise around me.

Their faces blur.

Expectation pulls at my heart

as the tears continue to flow.

Inside myself, I keep asking,

"What are you doing?"

I walk forward carefully as though

the floor might give way beneath me.

My knees weaken with every step.

My heart is heavy.

My terror is hidden.

My doubts continue without rest.

I think about the permanence

of this one act.

Marriage feels like a narrow bridge

everyone told me to cross.

A husband.

Children.

A proper home arranged

beneath God's approval.

The altar waits for my approach.

The congregation listens

to words I cannot hear anymore.

The room feels distant from my body.

My bouquet trembles in my hands.

When the vows begin,

my chest tightens so violently

I think I might faint

before the words are finished.

Then the ring.

Gold shining.

Heavy beyond proportion.

The moment it touches my finger

it slips from my hand.

I want to say no.

Not dramatically.

Not loudly.

Just one honest word

finally allowed to breathe.

Denial is not holy.

Yet, I am told submission is.

Eyes are watching.

Cameras are rolling.

Someone retrieves the ring.

So I swallow the word

that burns all the way down.

I let him slide the band

onto my finger where the

metal settles like the

closing of a gate.

I stand there silently

as everyone rises in celebration.

I hide my grief and wonder

if God can feel the weight

of the wedding ring.