Confession #28: Some days I feel like a phony...FAKE

I sit here surrounded by beauty and writers. I sit here in silence as over twenty people are quietly creating, editing, revising, and crafting with words. I sit here in awe as I see them each engrossed in their own world with such focus and purpose. Or maybe not, maybe they are fighting the thoughts of their everyday lives to creep into their heads. What they are thinking about, I don't know. What I do know is that from the outside looking in they seem to be so much better than me, so much more focused than I am, so much more talented, so much more of a "real" writer than I'll ever be.

My day started after a two hour drive to come here. A write away day. I didn't know what it was all about, I just knew I needed to be there (here). Working a full time corporate job along with being a mom, wife, and friend leaves little time for what I believe God called me to do a couple of years ago, and that is to WRITE. When the year began and I sought the Lord to give me a new direction and purpose, I found that He wanted to show me new and creative ways to do it all. He wants us to renew and abide in Him, not running around like a chicken with its head cut off. Part of this journey of finding new ways led me on a search for a writer's retreat.

So here I find myself. In a beautiful home surrounded by beauty, nature, and silence. As I walked in there were already several writers gathered around a huge table. One of them was giving out general housekeeping instructions. I snuck in the back and got settles as I listened in. The sweet lady interrupted what she was doing to tell my friend and I that there were two seats available next to her. Just like that, insecurity and doubt crept in. I felt called out, exposed, and insecure as I took my place in front of everyone. Then I settled in, she continued to share how the rest of the day would go and which areas we were allowed it write in. But before any of that we had to introduce ourselves first. WAIT...WHAT?!?

I slowly and subtly tuned her out as I prayed not to go first, as I was sitting right next to her. What would I say? Who would care? I'm not a real writer...I'm just a girl that piddles away at her blog. Damn, I'm not even good at that. I started this write 31 days challenge in October last year and I'm still not done. Say what, she wants us to share our writing goals?!? Oh man, I'm in way over my head. No place to run though and I was two hours from home and I didn't bring my own car.

I pause to say as I type this out, I am taken back to a memory of the last time I found myself in a room full of people, far from home, not in my own car and wanting to run out. That was right before I encountered the most beautiful and powerful spiritual experience of my life up until that moment. Yes, that last time I wanted to run but didn't I encountered the full and perfect love of Jesus and found my freedom from fear, depression, and anxiety. So there truly is something about staying when all you want to do is run. It can be life altar-ing. 

So here sit and there I sat a few hours ago. Did God answer my prayer of not being first? Yes, of course He did; and be careful what you wish/pray for. Our leader for the day started with my friend who sat on the other side of her. After my friend went, we went around the table and room. By the third person, I was officially freaked out. These were REAL writers; poets, academic writers, screenwriters, novelists, playwrights, even a photographer and journalist. I let the voice whisper into my ear and sink into my soul that I somehow didn't belong. What would I say? I don't belong here. 

After what seemed like an eternity, it was my turn. I was the last one to go. So what did I do? I introduced myself, shared about my blog, why I was there, and my writing goals. You see, along the way as I was freaking out, I felt like God said it's ok, just be yourself, you belong here because I've brought you here. So I did. I was myself. I'm not gonna lie though, as soon as I got up to find my spot to write in for the day the same thoughts kept creeping in. I found myself, got settled, and began to write.

Sometimes you've gotta push past the thoughts of being a phony or a fake. In the end, they are just that, thoughts. Lies created to make us believe we cant walk out our purpose and calling in life. It's not about faking it until you make it. I wasn't quite sure what it was about when I sat down to write but soon, I would.

We took a break for lunch and had a chance to chat with some of the writers there. I sat down, ready to eat and struck up conversation with the lady next to me. I saw it as a perfect opportunity to come clean. I confessed to her, how I had felt. We talked about it and she said something, that AHA moment that comes when someone else says something you know but haven't necessarily believed in a while. She said it's an identity issue. BAM! It hit me. The reason I had felt the way I did is because in that moment I allowed my identity to lie in my achievements as a writer, which were none. They were none, not for any other reason than that I hadn't been writing for long or blogging consistently.

Ugh! I believed the lie...once again, I let my identity lie in something other than being a child of God. It happens. It happens a lot. It happens to all of us and sometimes we just need someone, even a stranger to point it out. Isn't God good? He didn't allow me to wallow and sit in that puddle of self-doubt and belittling. He knew it would have been a waste. It would have been a  waste of a day away from everything, a day of silence, a day to create, a day to pour out my soul on this keyboard, but most importantly a day to be still enough to encounter Him and His love for me.

God can pour out His love as you write, sing, work, cook, or do just about anything. So I sat and wrote, and that makes me a writer. Pretty simple, eh? I found a spot, one of the rooms where I was close to the main room but at the same time away from everything. I would write and take stretching breaks. In one of those breaks I took a peek into the main room and I saw all these different people working away on their short stories, novels, poems, dissertations, and screenplays. This time, instead of feeling like a phony or fake I felt like I belonged. I was inspired by their silent creativity, their passion, their focus.

I'm sure there are times when you've felt like a fake or a poser. Maybe you didn't feel like that but maybe you let self doubt creep in to the point where you didn't even put yourself out there. When this has happened in the past, have you asked yourself why? Wait, maybe that's not the person you should ask. Have you asked God, the Holy Spirit why it is your feeling the way you are feeling? If you haven't I invite you to do so right now. No need to make it complicated, you can just say, "Yo God, what's up with this?"

He's good to respond and the answer may surprise you. Now, if by any chance (and it does not necessarily have to be this) it's a case of mistaken identity, I am here to remind you of where your true identity lies my friend. I promise you that no outwardly imposed label is as fulfilling and purpose filled as knowing that:

YOU ARE A CHILD OF GOD.

Much love,

Cristina

**This is part of the 31 day series: Confessions of a Faithonista**

Confession #25: Let God be the Curator, not just the Creator of your life

For we are God’s masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things he planned for us long ago.
-Ephesians 2:10

Have you ever walked into an art museum? Have you ever been impressed by the sheer beauty and magnitude of the space you were standing in? Not only are the pieces of art displayed, beautiful and unique, but usually the building and interior space is too. It can be one of the most breath taking experiences you can encounter. This is one of the reasons I decided to get married in an art museum, El Museo de Arte de Ponce in my hometown of Ponce, Puerto Rico.

It was truly a dream and God ordained. We were surrounded not only by amazing architecture but some of the most amazing and valuable pieces of art. It was this image, the museum of my wedding, that God used to speak to me on friendships during a season of feeling much isolation (check out the first part of this post here).

As I cried out to Him, wondering what I did wrong and felt so alone, He was quick and gentle to answer. He showed me the beautiful art museum and said to me, "Cristina, let me be the Curator of your life and your friendships". It clicked. I got it. Well, I thought I did because the more I prayed into that simple image and phrase He gave me, the more I began to understand all that it encompassed. See, I never thought I would share this with anyone. Some revelation is meant just for us. Us and God, to be hidden in the secret place. I must tell you though, as the weeks went on and I saw this come to life in my friendships and relationships, the more I knew that when the time was right it was meant to be shared.

The image above encompasses the message that God wanted to get across to me, EXCEPT, and this is a big except...He wants us to let Him edit our lives. He is the Curator. Yes, not only the Creator but the Curator of our lives if we allow Him to be. The most important role in a museum is the Curator. It's defined as someone who manages an art collection or exhibit. They are paid to decide which piece of art goes where, how it will be displayed, if it will be a temporary exhibit or a permanent fixture. Do you see where I am going?

Every person in your life is a masterpiece. God created each and everyone of us. We are unique, one of a kind masterpieces. Our lives, our friendships are kind of like the museum. Our space is filled with people and relationships. They cannot all be in the same space at the same time. Can you imagine a cluttered museum? Not only can't you observe its beauty but you just don't have space for every piece of art that is out there at the same time. Sometimes some exhibits are temporary, some pieces of art are on loan from other museums. Some get lent out and then come back. Some pieces of art are fixtures that will be highlighted and on display for the life of the museum. Does any of this take away from each individual piece of art's beauty? No, not at all. That's just the nature of museums. Some pieces of art never see the light of day...hidden in a back room being restored for years and years. Still yet they are there, adding value, being worked on, part of the story.

God showed me that the relationships and friendships in my life are the same as the masterpieces in the museum. He wanted to show me that what seemed like isolation and loneliness was just a shifting of art. He showed me if I allowed Him to curate my friendships I would be able to see the bigger picture. He reminded me of the friends that no longer were but made my life beautiful at one time. He showed me the faithful friends behind the scenes, the ones that hadn't left but were just in another exhibit room. He showed me that sometimes He highlights and puts the spotlight on other friends so that they may shine and they can see their true beauty. Others are in the backroom being worked on as we speak, I might not even know they are friends yet but they are being polished into their glorious beauty soon to make a grand entrance. He showed me that if some of the masterpieces weren't "removed" for a season I wouldn't have space in my life for new works of art. What a beautiful illustration of what a good, good Father He is!

He was faithful to show me in such a tangible and gentle way how wrong I was. At that moment, the lie of loneliness lifted, the perception of rejection gone, and a new sense of hope and love stirred up inside of me. I stepped back and looked at ALL the masterpieces in my life; the new, the old, the temporary, and the works in progress. I then realized how beautifully perfect His design was. Will you allow God to be not only the Creator of your life, but also the Curator? I promise you you'll be surprised at the beauty you'll find in your life because, you see the masterpiece's beauty is brought out in how it's displayed in the museum and the museum is nothing without its masterpieces.

Much love,

Cristina

**This is part of the 31 day series: Confessions of a Faithonista**

Confession #24: What God told me about friendships

"I don't know if I've ever been in a clique. The older I've gotten, the more I've realized what a true friend really is. So my friendship circle has changed a bit." 
-Aimee Teegarden

The quote above I came across in the most ordinary of ways. Honestly, I don't know who this Aimme Teegarden is (but as soon as I'm done writing this I will do my due diligence with my mad Google research skills) but she's right on the money when it comes to what I want to share with you today. I was looking for a deep quote on friendship and yet I found exactly what I'm about to say in a couple of sentences. See, a couple of months ago I was really struggling with this whole friendship thing. Trust me when I say struggling what I really mean was that I was hurting and hurting bad.

If you've known me for a while or read some of my other posts, you know by now that overcoming people pleasing has been a hard one for me. It was hard to admit to myself that I was placing people and relationships before God and though living to please God above all was a very freeing feeling and the best way to live, it came with many bumps and bruises along the way. When the Lord makes us new, it's up to us to lay down old behaviors and thought patterns and after years of being a certain way, it's not always easy.

Fear. It all boils down to the fear of rejection. Somewhere along the way I became so afraid to let others down that I aimed and strived to make everybody happy. This came at a steep price. Yet again I digress, back to friendships. So, a couple of months ago I found myself in a strange place. Convinced that I had overcome my people pleasing ways, I found myself feeling very, very alone. Now it wasn't an all of a sudden thing. It was slow, almost undetectable. Friends that I usually spent the most time with weren't around as much (or at all) anymore. There had been no misunderstanding, no blowout, or strife. It just seemed like everyone was off living their life, doing their thing and I was no longer a part of it.

Now don't get me wrong, I still had plenty of friends, invites, get togethers, and women I loved surrounding me but all of a sudden it felt like I had been abandoned by EVERYONE. Yes, dramatic I know but that's what it felt like. I'm not a high maintenance friend and my long term friendships have always ebbed and flowed. I have friends who I don't speak to for months or years at a time and then when we do connect it was like no time had passed. That made it even harder for me.I started to second guess myself, wonder what I had done wrong...I started believing the lie that I was being rejected.

Why do I share this? Why so much detail? I share because I want you to understand the place I was at when I finally gave it over to God and asked Him what He wanted to teach me in this season. You see, it wasn't about them, it was about me, the condition of my heart, and peeling the layers of my soul to discover areas where I still needed healing.And guess what? When I asked, He was good to answer. His answer made so much sense and gave me so much peace. It forever changed the way I look at friendships and all the people He places in my life.

I didn't realize the background part of this post was going to drag on so long, so I won't torture y'all any longer and split this into a two part confession. Before I go though, have you ever felt this way? How does rejection creep into your life? Is it through friendships, romantic relationships, family? I'd love to explore this with you as I share what the Lord has taught me.

Much love,

Cristina

**This is part of the 31 day series: Confessions of a Faithonista**

Confession #22: I should be writing Confession #30 today...but I'm a little behind

So today is the last day of October and that means that I should be publishing the last post of my write 31 days challenge. As you can tell, I'm only on confession #22 (out of 30), so I'm just a little behind. Normally I'd either 1) beat myself up over it or 2) ignore the fact all together and just leave this series hanging. Not this time though. I'm committed to finishing this goal even if it takes me a few extra days and rolls into November. There's just something about this challenge, this year, and this series that makes it more than just an ordinary goal or something to check off a list (I'm not a list person anyways).

Last year i think I did around 6 posts all together, and even that was huge for me. Starting this journey, I had no idea how this series would end up. I had no clue what God would lay on my heart or what I would feel like ranting about that day. I just committed to being honest and transparent and in the process I've learned and grown so much. I guess there's a freedom that lies in writing about yourself or your experiences and feelings. No one can argue or discredit you for your story and that's what I've realized I've been laying out there, my story. It's not always pretty, glamorous or uber spiritual but it is 100% me on any given day. This series has opened the opportunity for me to connect on so many levels with people I didn't even think were reading. Every comment, every message I get, all of it means so very much. Not because it meant someone read something I wrote but because it's build a bond between people who have said "me too". We've been there and we get it. 

We live in a time in history where people are quick to pick up their pitchforks and condemn and shame others from the anonymity behind the screen and our hand held devices. So, to see that some of us can come together and walk in each other's shoes even for just a few minutes means the world, a least to me it does.

So if you'll bare with me and give me a few extra days...I'll continue to write and we will end this challenge right where we started, together.

Much Love,

Cristina

**This is part of the 31 day series: Confessions of a Faithonista**

Confession #20: Ministry was nothing like I thought it would be

A woman in ministry. What does that even look like? I know what I thought it was supposed to look like. And let me tell you this, when ministry found me I was in for a rude awakening. Yes, funny how that happens. When I surrendered my life to Jesus I had a very skewed, or maybe romanticized, view of what ministry was. You see, my whole life I loved children. I loved watching them, taking care of them, and playing with them. I even worked as a preschool teacher when I was in college. I love, love, loved it! You get the idea, right? So naturally, when it came time to serve the Lord I assumed that’s where He would call me to serve Him. I put on my rose colored glasses and my first attempt at ministry was a stint in the church’s children’s ministry. Though it was fine and fun, I never felt that children’s ministry was what the Lord had for me. Then one day, our youth pastor got on stage and talked about the need for volunteers on Monday nights and I eagerly decided to serve with the youth group. I was leading a small group of high school girls and I loved it. The Lord started preparing me for what would be my true calling and life mission through this season. Each week as I met with these girls, they would shape me as much as I shaped them. I was getting close, oh so close, but still when that season of serving was over I felt no loss or longing, just a sense of mission accomplished. 

So I continued to seek the Lord. I grew in my faith. I had no expectations or aspirations to pursue ‘formal” ministry. This was probably because I was not raised knowing anything about ministry. To be totally and honest I had never even heard of the word ministry until I started attending the inter-denominational church where I met and fell in love with the Lord at. Oh but soon I would learn. I would learn quickly and abruptly that there was a line drawn in the sand when it came to women and ministry. 

You were either in or you were out.

“Say what?!” you ask. I know, I know … I was a little confused too. So let me back up a minute and give you the background info. How can someone go from never even fully understanding what ministry was to feeling totally unqualified, excluded, and shunned from what I now call the Sorority of “Women in Ministry”. It all started innocently enough, with a Facebook post. Like most modern day dramas, it all started with Facebook. I remember the day so clearly, that as I sit and type this I realize that my heart must still hurt over this. That there’s more healing that must need to take place. But I’m rambling, so let me get back to my story. I was scrolling down my newsfeed and a friend of mine (a pastor’s wife, lovely both inside and out) posted about an upcoming conference; she shared the details with the link. I can’t remember who the main speaker was at the time, but I do remember that it was a speaker I had told my other friend about. I was excited to share with my friend just to say, “Hey, this is that lady I told you about”. So without thinking twice, I tagged my friend in the comments with a note along the lines of, “so and so, check this out”. I proceeded to log off of Facebook and go on with my day. When I did this I didn’t think anything of it or the other women that might have been tagged in the post. Nor did I notice who was hosting the event. All of that was irrelevant to me because like I said earlier, I was just pointing out something to my friend, kind of like how I would point out a car, handbag, or beautiful house I like with no actual intention of buying it. No foul, no harm. Right?

Wrong. 

Oh boy was I wrong. Little did I know I was about to be schooled in the Sorority of “Women in Ministry”. Later that evening I saw the red dot of suspense, I mean the notification dot. Facebook so kindly informed me that a prominent woman in ministry in my community had tagged me in a comment. I was curious to see what she had tagged me in, as we weren’t close but I admired her greatly. And then came the burn. She had pointed out very publicly and pointedly (remember she tagged me with my first and last name) that the event I had commented on was ONLY for pastor’s wives and “women in ministry”. Ouch.

I was confused, mad (fuming actually), and hurt. I had no clap back. All I had was the feeling of being sucker punched and the conversation in my head that went something like this:

1. Who are you to say I’m not a woman in ministry?

2. I didn't know there was a special club for these “special women” and the rest of us    were not invited.

3. If my place in the caste system was so low that I’m not even allowed to comment      on a post, why would I want to do ministry anyway?

4. I didn’t want to go to your stupid event anyway!!!!

These four thoughts went in and out, up and down, and around my head for hours, maybe even days. Then I realized something, my anger was just masking the very real and raw emotion that I didn’t want to face, REJECTION. I had come from a community of believers that were accepting and loved and celebrated me just as I was. A community where I didn’t even realize that what I was doing was “ministry”. I just wanted to serve the Lord and the church gave me the opportunity. Other than passing a background check to be able to work with kids and youth, nothing else was required of me. But now, now I found myself wading in unknown waters. I never in a million years would have thought that the Body of Christ would be so exclusive, elitist, and clique-y. So what was I to do? How was I to reconcile this rejection with my heart’s desire of serving the Lord? More importantly, how would the passion I had to help women discover their true identity in Christ, be affected by this? How when it was the same women who I thought were on my team were the ones to reject me? But God.

God. G-O-D. My Father, My Redeemer, My Healer, My Vindicator, My Hero, and My Everything. He was so good to me. If He loved me, and I knew He did, I could face anything. I could move past this rejection. He could heal the wounds from that painful sting and use that very wound to start a fire in my soul. You see, instead of allowing that seed of rejection grow and fester into bitterness, He changed my heart. He gave me grace. Grace for me and grace for those who never realized they had hurt me. And that fire that began to burn that day was the fire that fuels the passion for my life ministry, helping women know their identity in Christ so that they may live the purpose and call God has for their lives. I learned something so vital and so essential from the moment of that pivotal Facebook post: 

Ministry is not something that you do. Ministry is not something that you are in. Ministry is a way of life.

You beautiful woman of God, child of the Most High King, have been called to a life of service, a life consecrated unto Him, a life of ministry. What does that look like? It’s not Wednesday morning Bible Study, it’s not greeting at the church, serving in the kid’s ministry, attending conferences, writing a blog, speaking, preaching, or singing on a stage. I mean it can be all these things but sweet sister, it is SO MUCH MORE. It’s the way you smile at the new girl who just walked into church for the first time, it’s staying up late to help your husband study for his Board Exams, it’s feeding the homeless, it’s taking your daughter shopping or drying her tears after her first heartbreak, it’s praying for your coworker who doesn’t know the Lord, it’s giving a check to the family in your community who just lost it all, it’s loving on the unlovable, and sometimes it’s just making it through the day when you think you can’t go on. 

We are not part of the Sorority of “Women in Ministry”. We are the community of women living our ministries. 

The other night, I was on Facebook and I felt the Holy Spirit wanting me to share on the topic of ministry. If I can leave you with one thought on ministry it would be this:

As I sit here I reflect on this thing we call "ministry". Man, this is totally not what I signed up for. It's harder, messier, more complicated, and absurd than I could ever imagine.

It's also the most beautiful display and dance of God's love I've ever seen in action. So now what? So now I dance. I dance in the sunshine. I dance in the rain. I dance in the storms. When I'm drowning I give in and dance in the water until He gently and so gracefully lifts me up. I float and bask in His presence until he gently brings me to shore. And then? And then, my friends I get up and dance again. But this time I find someone to dance with, someone who hasn't heard a song in a very long time, the one who needs to dance the pounding of the heartbeat God has placed in the core of their being. And then we dance and dance some more. We bring others along with us as the love of the Father shines down on us all. And this, this is the beautiful imagery of ministry in action.

It's not about a 501c(3). It's not about a building. It's not about a board of directors or trustees. It's about relationship. It's about love. Our relationship with our Father overwhelming us to the brink so that nothing but love can pour out to those around us. It can be your family. It can be your workplace. It might be your sick husband or the mother in law you think you hate. It's the smile to the stranger. The sandwich to the homeless man lying filthy on the street. It can be all of this and so much more. It is all of this and nothing less. 

Do not despise where you are at. Do not crave position. Do not orchestrate a platform. Just be. Receive. Dance. Love.

This is ministry my friends. Nothing more and nothing less.

Don't love to be loved. Love because you are loved.

It’s messy, it’s rewarding, it’s complicated, and sweet. It’s not a club, sorority, or clique. It’s me and it’s you. Don’t give up. Keep on truckin’. Keep on keepin’ on. You are worth it. You are called. The world needs you because the world needs more women living in ministry, not just “women in ministry”.

Much Love,

Cristina

**This is part of the 31 day series: Confessions of a Faithonista**

Confession #17: How stuffing myself with food deafened my ears towards God

So in my last post I shared how food was the #1 thing separating me from God. It might sound dramatic but it's 100% true. Food is that one thing that I have yet to overcome. Food is harder than so many other obstacles because of one simple fact: You can't just stop eating! Admit it, you can't.

Partying, wine, worrying, compulsive behavior, drugs, medication, shopping, exercise, gambling, and fill in the blank are all things that you can survive without doing. Now, don't think I'm saying giving up any of these behaviors are easy. They aren't. Every struggle is unique and should never be minimized as we don't know what it's like to walk in the shoes of someone else. But food, you can't avoid. You need it for survival and you can't escape it. FOOD IS EVERYWHERE!

I first noticed that we were bombarded by food options when I did my first fast. As I vowed not to eat for spiritual purposes, I started to notice for the first time how overwhelming food choices were. The simple act of walking into the gas station convenience store would turn into a spiritual and physical battle as I was surrounded by both salty and sweet, hot and cold, crunchy and soft food choices. And that was just the food, let me not even start on the drinks and aromas...

It was hard, but fasting is supposed to be. It's not natural to not hunger and to switch the mindset to hunger God more than food, just goes against our fleshy nature. I was able to fast successfully though. It gave me taste of how clearly I could hear God. I saw Him in everything. I wasn't distracted by food or anything for that matter. I had to rely solely on Him to get through every second of the day. I was close to Him, because I was so aware of my need for Him. He had to sustain me and nourish me.

I pause here to say there are several ways to fast, some don't even involve fasting from food. I am not endorsing or encouraging fasting for health reasons. I have my views but I am not an expert on the topic nor am I a health professional. So please do not take this post as advise on whether to fast or how to fast. I am just sharing with my experience as it helped lead me to the realization that food is a hindrance in my spiritual life.

So for the first time, it clicked. I saw the Biblical importance of fasting and why it is necessary in the spiritual life of a Christian. But it wasn't until a few days ago that I saw that God calling me to fast was also about this moment. This moment of personal revelation. An altar of faith, one to look back on and be reminded of how clearly I heard Him when I removed that distraction and how close I felt to Him because of it.

I will leave this post here for now. I ask you, has there ever been a time where God (or you) removed something from your life and you were able to hear Him clearer or feel Him more? What was this? Were you able to remove this from your life permanently? Let's explore this together...I feel like this confession/topic will be one we will dig in deep with and I would love to know YOUR point of view.

Much love,

Cristina

**This is part of the 31 day series: Confessions of a Faithonista**

Confession #16: Food is the #1 thing that separates me from God.

That has been the most difficult title to type. I came to this realization today as I was talking to God on my drive home. Now I know I've had an issue with food for years. I won't go into all the details,  but it's not an issue that has gone unnoticed by me. I consider myself as someone who is pretty self aware and though I realized the psychological effect food has on me perfectly, I don't think I fully understood the spiritual hold it had on me. And I for sure did not realize that it was the #1 thing that separated me from God.

I started this post last night but I stopped. Not sure why. I wasn't overly exhausted. I had peace and quiet. There must've been something, something deep in me that I didn't want to share or maybe even worse, something I did not want to face. 

Over the past few months I found myself growing further and further away from God. It's not like I started a downhill spiral of poor behavior and bad choices. It was nothing like that but more of me slowly tuning down the radio of God's voice. There are many factors that contributed to this subtle and slow slippery slope, some of which I'm sure you've picked up in as I write in this series. Yet there was something about yesterday. That "AHA" or lightbulb moment came to me as I drove home from work. 

The Lord is faithful and good. He knows my love and passion for Him. He heard my desperate cries and prayers. He was not going to abandon me and let me continue in that season of silence. He is true and faithful. He needed me to be awake and attentive to His voice. He had things to tell me and I needed to be ready to listen.

How did He get me ready? How does any of this have to do with food? I'll share that in my next post. Until then, I ask you: has there ever been a time where food had separated you from God? Let's explore this together, let's  lean in and listen to what He has to say. 

Much Love, 

Cristina

**This is part of the 31 day series: Confessions of a Faithonista**

Confession #13: It's all about the fight...song

So David arose early in the morning and left the flock with a keeper and took the supplies and went as Jesse had commanded him. And he came to the circle of the camp while the army was going out in battle array shouting the war cry.

1 Samuel 17:20

When I think about the battles of life, I think about how music and song have gotten me through some of the toughest battles of my life. One day as I was journaling the Lord revealed to me why this was. He showed me that throughout history, anytime a soldier went into combat, there would be a battle cry. Battle cry is defined as:

bat·tle cry

noun

1. a word or phrase shouted by soldiers going into battle to express solidarity and intimidate the enemy.

   synonyms:

   war cry, war whoop, rallying call/cry;  rebel yell "the army's battle cry"

Like the lyrics from the song by Rachel Platten, we all need a fight song. Something that reminds us and incites us into motion, into action. It gets you pumped up, it reminds you who you are, and that you can do it. I've had more than one battle cry throughout the years. Almost as if God gives me the perfect song right when I need it. 

Lyrics from "Fight Song" by Rachel Platten

Yesterday I discovered a new song. I half listened until the lyrics just shook me. This is the part that stood out to me:

We'll walk through fire and ice

Come out the other side with diamonds in our eyes

[Chorus]

So princess, hold your head high

Even if you have to cry

Don't let your crown fall

Don't let your crown fall

Your script is in the making

You can hold the aching but

Don't let your crown fall

The lyrics get even better, just take a listen for yourself...

So tonight, if you haven't yet ..find you're battle cry. Find your fight song. Life hits hard and you're gonna need it. And remember sweet sister...Don't let your crown fall.

Much love,

Cristina

**This is part of the 31 day series: Confessions of a Faithonista**

Confession #12: What I learned sitting in my dark closet tonight.

Tonight I sat in my closet and did something I've done so many times before, I sat and prayed and talked to some of my favorite peeps behind the screen. I was using the app called Persicope to livestream some prayer time with others. Truth is for a season the Lord had me wake up every day around 6 am for this very purpose. It has been one of the greatest blessings of my life. 

My prayerscopes were a crucial part of the birth of my ministry Women's Night of Prayer, also known as WNOPtribe. In all honesty Periscope was an amazing tool and vehicle that the Lord used to bring together some of the most amazing people I've ever met. We are family and friends in the truest definition of the word. After not being on regularly in months I wasn't sure if anyone I knew would be on tonight. But then all of a sudden a familiar face popped up, sweet Marlene.

We also had some new people on tonight. Some from Turkey, a lady from Chicago, and other lovely people that came in to say hi.One thing I've always done on my scopes is be truthful and honest. That honesty became a huge blessing. When Marlene asked how I was doing, I was honest. I was good, but I was exhausted. I am in a rough season where I feel very isolated. We talked through it, we prayed through it...and then all of a sudden:

THE LIGHT IN MY CLOSET WENT OUT.

Just like that, no warning. I opened the door to let some light in and prepared to hop off. Oh no! God had another plan. The light going off,instead of discouraging Marlene it reminded her of the scripture below.

When she shared it, it hit me. This is the season I am in. This is the lifeline verse that I've been asking for. God used this moment to remind me that yes, I have fallen...but I will rise. That I might be sit ting in the darkness, but that He is my light.

It gave me a sense of relief. It was a reminder of everything that is true. That I am not alone. The darkness on the scope tonight only lasted until I opened the door. Once I did that, the light flooded in. 

It's time to arise! It's time to open the door!

Much love,

Cristina

**This is part of the 31 day series: Confessions of a Faithonista**

Confession #11: I drive 4 hours to get my hair done...

Call it craziness, call it blonde ambition but every 3 to 4 weeks I travel about 4 hours to get my hair done. There's no logical explanation for this other than I haven't found anyone in my town or nearby San Antonio to do my hair the way I like it.

It hasn't always been this way. I actually stumbled upon the colorist hair genius that is Ana, very randomly. A trip to visit family and a casual conversation in a mall led me to elements salon. The rest is history. Well, maybe not history but certainly the most perfect platinum blonde hair to ever grace my head. 

.

This was a few years ago, before my wedding or having a baby. I continued to see Ana for a while, but as the wedding grew near, I had to find a closer option for my beauty ritual. After the wedding life got busy as a newlywed and soon to be mother, and platinum wasn't practical. My blonde ambition got shelved as I delved into motherhood.

Then one day, I awoke from the slumber and my soul cried out summoning the blonde that lived inside of me. I actually found another angel/hair stylist. Her name was Kim. She is  a pastor's wife I met during a conference. A woman who loved women and I was blessed to have known her. As she dyed and cut and styled my hair each month, we would share stories of our toddlers and the messiness of ministry. Until one day, the Lord called them back home...to Virginia!!! Ugh!!! I had finally found some one local I loved and the Lord sent her away. What was a girl to do?

It took me a while, but for some reason I felt like I was supposed to find Ana again. Go back to Houston. Crazy as it sounds, I knew that whatever it was that the Lord had for me at that salon, it was way more than my hair. See, I'm sure it might come across as high maintenance and pretentious to drive 4 hours because there's no one good enough here. I would think the same thing. 

But God. God had a plan.

I slowly got back into the rhythm. Ana got my hair on track and I got to know her more and more with each visit. Hopefully one day I'll be able to share a little bit of Ana's story and how it's blown me away and blessed me in so many ways. But it's not my story to tell. And since I'm the ultimate procrastinator, none of these posts are planned until I sit down each night to type them. In other words, no time for me to ask Ana permission to share a glimpse into her life.

I will tell you this...I drive 4 hours to get my hair done...I drive 4 hours because my soul gets filled with life, love, and laughter with every visit. It's not about the hair...it's not about my appearance...it's about the beauty that's created between the women that sit around Ana's table each time I visit.

Much love,

Cristina

**This is part of the 31 day series: Confessions of a Faithonista**