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 #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 #18: I suck at sending out thank you cards

So yeah...I suck at this. It's not that I'm not grateful. I am grateful more than you'll ever know. It's not that I'm lazy...I've hand written dozens of thank you cards. I've even addressed them and stamped them. Yet, somehow along the way I forget to follow through. I either can't find the stamps, don't make it to the post office, lose the cards along the way, or forgot your address. Then weeks and months go by and it seems absolutely pointless to send them out. It's wrong I know. The upmost etiquette fail that would make Emily Post very disappointed. So I guess what I'm trying to say to all of those who have showered me with love and gifts, support and encouragement in so many stages of life is THANK YOU!!! Thank you for the wedding shower gifts, graduation gifts, baby shower, first birthday, ministry support, and help with all my crazy ideas. Thank you!!! I can't thank you enough. You've made me cry and feel all the feels in every important milestone in my life...and in just the every day moments too. Take this as my virtual hug, my public display of appreciation, and ULTIMATE THANK YOU CARD! 

'Cause this is all I got and it's everything all rolled into one. And don't be surprised if years from now you find an old thank you card in the mail from me...that's just how I roll!

Much Love, 

Cristina

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

Confession #14: You can keep your casserole...'cause I don't want it!

As you can probably guess, this post really isn't about casseroles at all. Okay, well maybe just a little bit. To be perfectly honest I have nothing against casseroles. I find some of them delicious, though I don't care for green bean casserole. But I digress, as that is a post all its own. This post is more about what the act of bringing a casserole to someone represents. 

Problem is that tonight I find myself fighting the fatigue that sucks my energy to the point where I actually weigh the option of whether I will shower tonight or wait until the morning. YEs, tonight it's that bad. Thing is, this confession has been stirring inside of me for a few days and I want to commit to writing this post. So this is my place holder, my commitment, my to be continued post. I'll pick this topic up tomorrow and unpack it because tonight I'm just too tired to. 

I appreciate you stopping by and don't want you to leave empty handed, and for this reason I share with you an awesome casserole recipe!

Much Love, 

Cristina

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

Confession #10: I have a tattoo...ok, maybe have 2

So I have a tattoo...well actually, I have two. Both of my tattoos represent very different moments of  my life but they have one thing in common, I got them to commemorate a life change. And that's where the similarities end. 

The one you see in the picture above, I got about three years ago.The anchor represents the security and love I found in my relationship with Christ. Having had gotten a tattoo while I was in college and in a different mindset, I struggled with the thought of wanting one as a born again Christian. I had no judgment towards Christians who did, I just wondered how God would feel about me permanently marking my body again. I was raised to believe that tattoos were a form of mutilation. So between those thoughts (though it didn't stop me before) and me just wanting to live a life that honored God, I found myself in a juxtaposition.

Trust me when I say, I didn't take the decision lightly. I knew what I wanted and where I wanted it. I wanted an anchor, based on some scripture I loved.

We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure. It enters the inner sanctuary behind the curtain, ~ Hebrews 6:19

I knew I wanted it on my wrist because I wanted a constant reminder. I knew the day would come when I'd need to look down and be reminded of God's goodness; reminded that when the waves of life crashed on me and tried to sway me to and fro, that God was my anchor. I knew my faith would want to waver, or that I'd forget in the moment how much He loved me and that I was secure.

I know not everyone needs permanent ink on their body to be reminded of this, but I did. So how did I come to the conclusion that it was the right thing to do [for me]? I asked God and then, I waited. I waited for weeks before that one day at the beach when I finally felt it was time.He gave me the okay and so I went. It's nothing fancy or special but it means so much to me.

Let me tell you a little something about this tattoo. While my other one is hidden and was never meant for the eyes of anyone, this one is just visible enough for the right people to notice. When I get asked about it, it's an open invite to speak life into a person through scripture.See, people can argue about many things but they can't argue with your story. As they ask me, it's because they want to know the story behind it, my story, God's story. 

About my other tattoo...well that one would get me attention when I wore two piece bathing suits on the beach. What story did it tell? I was young, I loved butterflies and the sun (I know...so cliche), and I thought it represented freedom. How silly I was, I didn't even feel free enough to have a tattoo in a visible place. Funny how the enemy and the world deceive us. I had a tattoo that supposedly represented freedom yet I was too ashamed of it to show it.

Yet when I found freedom, I chose a tattoo of a symbol that represents security and being grounded.

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

Confession #7: No, I'm not ok.

                           

Today I had a friend come up to me at church and ask me if I was ok and I felt free and vulnerable enough to say no, I wasn't. This friend of mine is the real deal. We don't talk every day...to be honest we haven't spoken or even texted in months. I'm not a high maintenance friend and when I say that I mean that when I'm your friend I'm there for you unconditionally whether we spoke to each other last this morning or three years ago. 

Over the years I've come to learn which of my friends are the same way. My friend this morning is one of those friends. I won't mention her name because, she doesn't need or want the attention. She is one of those people that will be your vocal supporter and a knight in shining armor on the down low. She's a hands on problem solver. When she says she loves you and your family, you KNOW she means it. It's something about the look in her eyes. She's safe. I've never seen her turn her noise up at anyone. She's level headed and wise. She's kind and generous and selfless. 

In other words, she embodies and walks out Jesus' love and I'm blessed that she pours it out on me. So when she looked at me today, after not speaking in several months and asked me if I was ok I was able to say no. That is what a safe friendship looks like. She just knew and squeezed my hand and said we would meet up this week. As I fought back the tears, I felt a huge wave of love, relief, and gratitude. Grateful that God has placed a friend like this at exactly the moment I needed it. To be able to be real and genuine and admit you're not ok is a luxury in today's society. You know it. I know it. We live in times where wearing masks and putting up the highlight reels of our lives on social media is the norm. Vulnerability many times equates weakness. And that is not ok.

Without vulnerability and taking off our masks, there is no healing. See, today's two minute encounter reminded me of another time God sent me a friend to ask if I was ok. It was three years ago at the gym. My workout partner, whom I wasn't close with asked me how I was...and I broke down. I was in tears, not knowing exactly what was wrong but knowing that I was not ok. Long story short, that day in the gym was the beginning of my journey of faith. That one conversation led to an invite to a class which the Lord would use to bring me to Him. This memory came flooding back to me today as soon as I said I wasn't ok. And then, all of a sudden I smiled and felt peace and hope. Almost as if God was sending me that sweet reminder that the moment I confront the truth that I need Him is the moment he can come in and bring the most amazing breakthrough. 

Tonight I thank the friends that have created the safe space for me to not be ok. Thanks to them I can open my heart to healing and God's grace. No need to pretend, fake smile, or live in denial. 

Much love,

Cristina

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

Confession #6: I wish that I could be like the cool kids...'cause all the cool kids, they seem to fit in

"She sees them walking in a straight line,
That's not really her style

And they all got the same heartbeat

But hers is falling behind.

Nothing in this world could

Ever bring them down

Yeah, they're invincible, and she's just in the background

And she says

I wish that I could be like the cool kids

'Cause all the cool kids, they seem to fit in

I wish that I could be like the cool kids

Like the cool kids"

-Echosmith

There are some days where i feel exactly like the lyrics of that song. Not quite fitting in, standing out, looking from the outside in. I never felt like that when I was a child or a teenager. I may have had other hangups, but that wasn't one of them. Now, I'm in my mid thirties, with child, have found freedom in so many areas of my life...yet I sing along to this song with all the passion of teenage angst that it projects. Pretty pathetic, huh?

I heard this song today and wondered why it resonated with me so much in this stage of my life. The more I thought about it the more aware of how I often I feel like that lately and how sad it made me. Then I realized that I was in a unique situation for the first time in my life. I found myself in a small and precious small town where people share common values, ideals, socio economic backgrounds, and for the most part religious beliefs. Not that this is a bad thing at all. It's just different for me.

I didn't go to the local high school. My lifelong friend that I went to kindergarten with doesn't live down the street. I didn't grow up in church going to Vacation Bible School or being part of a youth group. My high school memories have nothing to do with homecoming, football games, or mums. And what is cotillion? Don't get me wrong, I love Texas and I LOVE the small town I live in. I love the community and the familiar feeling it offers. But to be totally honest, on some days I feel like don't fit in.

On most days, I'm totally ok with it. I know God made me unique and special. I know He placed me here not to feel left out but to be a part of a beautiful community. But oh, how the enemy of my soul loves to mess with my head on this one. When I don't get a joke, when the pastor sings some hymn that everyone else seems to know and I don't, when I find I just don't get the latest "fashion" trend everyone loves, and when no one gets why I can't find a local hairdresser to do my hair I feel like an alien in a foreign land. 

The people in my community are some of the most loving, giving, welcoming, and hospitable that I know. I will never be quite like them, and that's ok. How boring life would be if we were all the same. On most days I love that we embrace each other's differences. I laugh how different our quirks are, like what we consider being on time is. Other days though, it weighs on my soul. There are days where I feel like a misfit, excluded, and an outcast. It's not a reflection of anyone other than myself. Today I tapped into a new area of brokenness that only God can heal. 

Most days I feel like I'm part of a tribe, sisterhood, community, and family. But every once in a while...on days like today...I wish that I could be like the cool kids...'cause all the cool kids, they seem to fit in.

Much love,

Cristina

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

Confession #5: To all my friends that no longer are...I love you

They say that some friends are for a season, and that's so very true. They come in and out of your life at exactly the right time, then life takes over and for whatever the reason you drift away.These are not the friends I am talking about.

I'm talking about the friends I've lost not from death, distance, or moving. The ones where you can recall the exact moment you realized it would never be the same. The ones that when the friendship ended, felt worse than a breakup. Sometimes life sucks and losing a friend is one of those moments. It hurts, and I've felt all of the emotions; sadness, anger, betrayal, shock, disbelief,sorrow. And the aftermath can be even more brutal. From navigating with how to deal with being excluded from the social circle you took for granted,to the aftershocks of comments and running into people who inform you that "they said this or that about you". 

It's tough...and in the age of social media is so much worse.At any given moment you can see pictures of your ex-friendshaving a blast without you or be on the back end of a status, meme, or tweet you just know was directed at you. 

Truth is, I've lost more than one friend over the years. And each loss has been uniquely painful. Sometimes I have no one else to blame but myself and my brokenness at the time. Other times, it's been a boundary I've had to set because my well being was at stake. I've lost more than one since I found my faith, which was very hard to understand as a new Christian who just wanted to love anyone. But you know which ones hurt the worst? The ones that I have no idea what went wrong. They ate away at me for a very long time. The not knowing played on my insecurities and I would replay every word I said and everything I did to try and understand how I pushed them away.

Funny thing is, as more time goes by and the more I heal from my own hangups and hurts the less I dwell on the ending part of the friendship. I look back on each and everyone of those people with love. I appreciate the time we spent together, the memories created, and the lessons learned. The laughs, the late nights, and the heartache we faced together. In all honesty, I'm so grateful to social media like Facebook. I've been able to reconnect with some of the friends that no longer were. And maybe we aren't the friends we used to be, it's ok. I'd rather have them in my life in a new way than not having them at all. 

To all the friends I've lost, I'm sorry. I'm sure no matter whose "fault" it was, my brokenness was a huge part of the outcome. I wasn't good at communicating, I was paralyzed by fear and insecurities, I avoided my problems at all cost, and sometimes I was just a jerk...and for that I'm sorry. If I ever let you down, if wasn't there when you needed me, if I was self-centered and hyper focused on my situation...I'm sorry. I love you. Whether we come together as friends again or not, I want you to know you are a part of my story, my triumph, and you occupy peace of my heart.

Much love,

Cristina

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