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 #26: Traditions were meant to be broken

See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.

-Isaiah 2:10

I am writing this coming off the holiday season and this in itself is an important part of the lesson I'm learning.  The idea for this post started off as a God whisper in the midst of the Christmas hustle and bustle. Something about this season in my life was different. I couldn't pinpoint what exactly what it was but none of it felt exactly like it had before. This was unsettling and freeing at the same time.

I had pretty much settled in to my new home town for a couple of years now, I've been with my husband for two years, my daughter is two, and I have been at the company I work for for over a year. So after several years of lots of new and different experience for the holidays, it finally seemed like we had our own little family and friend traditions pretty set...and when I say set I mean pretty much set in stone. And there my friends, lied the problem.

All of a sudden the expectations, the rituals, the self imposed traditions started to feel stifling, forced, almost as if we were enslaved to them. If it didn't fit into the many traditions we had, we tried to squeeze new experiences in, This led to arguments, burn out,and boredom. We all know that boredom can be the worst as leads to apathy. Honestly, I didn't want to spend my holidays like that anymore. So, I cleared my calendar (for the most part) and decided to go with the flow.

I had to wrap my head around it because for the most part, I'm pretty chill and go with the flow. So why all of a sudden did I cling so much to the traditions of the holidays? What about it made me cling on for dear life? Would Christmas not be as special if I deviated from the plan? Of course not. So when I got quiet enough to listen, the Lord clearly spoke to me the following:

TRADITIONS WERE MEANT TO BE BROKEN.

It was as if a huge burden had been lifted off my shoulders. I felt at peace with my decision and so I waited. I waited to see what He had in store for me. What would He bring me when I broke away from the bondage of traditions and do Christmas, His way, by His design?

Please don't get me wrong, I love the traditions of Christmas and I'm not saying to ditch your traditions. What I am saying is what would happen if you pulled back for one second and asked yourself WHY you are doing it? How do you feel when you participate in them? Does it add stress and strife? Are you so busy in the holiday season that you wear yourself out trying to get it all done and being everywhere you need to be? Maybe that's not you at all, and that's great! It is something to think about though.

I'm blessed with the opportunity to talk to so many people from different walks of life on any given day. You know what? Most of them were stressed out around the holidays. These weren't people who are depressed and hate Christmas, just people who were tired, doing too much and spending more than they should in the name of tradition. Yet, many too afraid to break from the comfort that is tradition. Why? That's probably a topic for another post.

God is not about traditions. God is about creating. God isn't about staying in the old. God takes the old and makes something new and beautiful out of it. He did it for me this Christmas and He'll do this for you. Not just on Christmas but everyday of your life. So, what did my Christmas end up looking like? What was so great about skipping out on that family party? Well I'm so glad you asked...as usual, this post went long and what He did was AMAZING! Yes, full CAPS AMAZING!!! So amazing it needs its own post ;) Once, Confession #27 goes live just CLICK HERE and come along the journey with me.

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 #21: I know my purpose...and I want you to know yours!

I do not say this to be cocky or come across as presumptuous. I didn't always know my purpose. I many times wondered if I even had one. Have you ever had one of those days? You know the ones where you're not even sure if you'd be missed if all of a sudden you ceased to exist. Well, I have and it's not a fun place to be.

It's so sad that so many of us can go for years or our entire lives without knowing our purpose. That is not how it's supposed to be. God wants us to know our purpose so that we may walk confidently in our calling. And don't for a second think you don't have one, because you do! 

So how do you go about finding or better yet discovering what your purpose is? How did I find mine? I'll tell you the short version in this post and I'll invite you to dig deeper into this topic with me. It's something I'm passionate about. Purpose is all about identity. If you don't know who you are and whose you are, there is no way you can discover what it is you're here to do. It sounds simple but it truly is fundamental.

I began to comprehend and believe I had a specific purpose in life and in the Kingdom of God the moment I knew who I was in Him. And let me tell you it's not about just singing "I am a child of God" at church. You have to know that you know that you are His. You need to know where your identity truly lies.

Identity isn't about you trying to live up to the labels and roles that the world has placed on you. Your identity has nothing to do with the car you drive, your profession, who your married to, where you work, where you live, how you look, who you know, how tough you are, hoe much money you make, or the sins you've committed. It's none of that.

Now the enemy four souls would love for you to believe that, and let me tell you he has many convinced. He wants you to believe that because if you believe your identity is based on anything I've mentioned before than he has kept you focused on striving and living up to that standard and no matter whether it's labeled a "good" or "bad thing, it is exhausting, time consuming, and futile.

When we start to believe our own true identity, the striving stops. We can slow down, we can receive, and most importantly we can listen to what God has to say. When we listen to what God has to say, and I mean really listen there is nothing we can't do and nothing He will hold back from us, including our purpose.

A huge part of discovering my purpose came when I was able to develop my personal mission statement. This was birthed from a place of prayer, encouragement, and being open to listen to what the Holy Spirit had to say. In order to do this I had to identify and abolish beliefs I had about myself before I knew Christ. That exercise alone was so powerful, almost like losing into the clearest mirror and then looking into what God had in store for me in the future. If this is something you'd like me to do a Facebook live or Periscope  broadcast on, leave a comment below and make sure to follow me here or here. This isn't something God wants to keep hidden from you or have you spend your whole life searching for. Truth is, whether you know it or not, you are very much so living out your purpose already. Now, once you know what it is and you walk in the steps that God has aligned for you, the power is so much greater.

As for me, my mission statement which I wrote 3 years ago was this:

My mission is to bring defeated women to know their identity in Christ by sharing my story and bombarding them with God's truth.

Wow...and once again, I just realized how sweet God is! That is what this blog is all about. It wasn't planned, it's not about branding, it wasn't intentional to tie this all in. I honestly write what's on my mind and make no edits as I go. Afterwards I only correct typos (if I find them). So here I find myself living out the mission statement the Holy Spirit gave me 3 years ago in a whole new way. It's exciting and amazing and you can have this too...will you join me?

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 #19: I've always wondered, what would happen if...

I have to say I love the "On this day" feature on Facebook. It's fun to see what I was doing or what was on my mind last year or six years ago. Some days I'm surprised by how much I've grown in my faith. Other days I long for the days where I heard so clearly from the Lord. Sometimes I see God's grace and His hand over my life and other times I just laugh at the silliness of my friends and myself. It can also be a not so fun feature, like when I see how much thinner I was five years ago or when I see reference of a friend that no longer is. But no matter what memories or feelings the trip down Facebook memory lane, it serves as a virtual scrapbook and let's be honest, ain't nobody got time to scrapbook (well, at least I don't).

One year ago today I posted a series of questions. Questions that were birthed out of a place of anger and frustration, a place of disappointment in how we treat each other as women. It was birthed out of love. These questions weren't hypothetical but more like a challenge for us to step up as women. We are failing each other and I believe these questions are still worth asking. We need to explore all these "What would happen if" scenarios. So as you read my Facebook post from a year ago I invite you to ask yourself "What if?" but more importantly ask yourself "What now?"

What would happen?

What would happen if women came together and supported each other? If they would encourage and uplift each other? If they would celebrate each others gifts and celebrated each other talents? What if they didn't feel threatened by each others successes and mentored other women so they could also succeed? What if they pulled their resources together and worked along side of each other? What would their ministries, businesses, legacies, and families look like if they did?

What if WE as women committed to try to do some things? If we were intentional on liking, sharing, and supporting the ventures, businesses, and ministries of the women in our sphere of influence? What if we were intentional to include people in our tribe and make them feel significant loved and included? What if we stopped idolizing celebrities and leaders and we celebrated the stay at home mom doing everything to keep it together,the homeless women just trying to make it another day, the teacher that loves and instructs your kids everyday, the beautiful lady that greets you at church, or that one that posts exactly what you needed to read on FB or Instagram? What if???

#womenneedwomen #celebrateeachother

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 #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**