Fear Fighting...When Life Doesn't Fight Fair

Fear fighting made simple. Just do like it says above. Live life. Repeat. Oh, if it were only so simple. Fear, it's one of the things authors love to write about. There are a million quotes how to over come it and the phrase "Fear not" is repeated multiple times in the Bible.

If we are talking about battles, fear is formidable foe. He's sneaky and sly. He attacks stealthily with a unique approach as individual as the opponent. Fear is relentless. He can be irrational or totally justified. He can slow you down, fuel your passions, or paralyze you indefinitely. So how do you fight fear and come out victorious? Is this even possible?

First of all, let me tell you that yes. Yes it is possible. Now that we've gotten that out of the way, let's get real. I know what it's like to live a fear ridden life. I know what being paralyzed by fear can do because I've suffered the consequences of choices based solely on the fears that burdened me. I know that years and years of fears buried will eventually lead to full blown anxiety. You know what else I know? I know what freedom from fear feels like, what it taste like, and how amazing life can be without it.

So when a friend recommended a book by the title Fear Fighting by Kelly Balarie, I was immediately drawn to it and curious. The more I dug into this book, the more I realized how I was not alone, how far I had come, but more importantly how many fears I was still holding on to. Yes, though the Lord had freed me from anxiety and fear, the more I opened my heart to the message that Kelly was sharing, the more I realized that there were these "little" pockets of fear buried deeply in my soul. And though I thought they weren't paralyzing, they were stopping me from living truly free. There were areas of my soul that screaming and yearning to be expressed.

Fear Fighting by Kelly Balarie

In my case, one of the recurring fears was the fear of what people would think of me. This one fear, stopped me from writing, creating, and expressing myself. I allowed it to silence my voice. And if I'm totally honest, it stopped me from writing this post till the very last minute. How many other opportunities would I miss because of fear disguised as being socially graceful? If there were only one thought that I could tattoo into heart the way Jesus has my name engraved in the palm of His hands, it would be this:

"Sometimes you have to keep on marching into what God has promised you even when life wants to make a fool out of you" - pg.83

That's my invitation to you my friend. Keep marching into what God has promised you. Soldiers march. They are relentless. They are equipped for the battle. They are fear fighters and SO ARE YOU!

Much love,

Cristina

xoxo

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 #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 #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 #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 #15: I wrote this post from my cell phone...

This is a first. I'm attempting to totally write and publish this post entirely from my phone. On most nights I sit in bed and type away on my laptop, but tonight that just wasn't cutting it. I was tired and wanted to lay on my side. I just couldn't get comfortable enough to type in bed.

Have you ever tried typing while you are laying on your side? I promise you it's not easy.so I'm quite excited that so far this little experiment is working. I think I might be faster typing with my thumbs on my phone than I am on a computer.

I'm so in awe that I can do this, that I can't think of much else to write about than the fact that I can. I know I have a post brewing in me...yes the one about the casserole. But then once again I find myself too exhausted to think, too exhausted to face the feelings and emotions that go along with it. So until tomorrow, I will just bask in the fact that I can just post from my phone. 

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 #8: I never know what I'm going to write about...until I do.

Yes, it's true. I'd love to say I have this great plan and an outline for all my posts for this write 31 days challenge, but the truth is I don't. Dang, I'd wish I had a centralized theme or a few funny stories to use as material but I don't. The Confessions of a Faithonista is an idea that the Lord gave me a few months ago. It was just a title and I had no idea how I was going to use it. When this challenge came around a lightbulb went off...and this blog series was born.

To be totally honest, I thought it would be much easier than it's turning out to be.The word confession seemed to be perfect. I could just write about anything that came to my mind, giving me the freedom to create a story, share my heart, or speak my mind. Although all of that is true, there's one thing I wasn't counting on. One word that would creep in and throw my game plan into a tailspin. That word is:INSECURITY.

Yes, funny how it found its way into this precious space. How hard could it be to come up with things to write about? Well, just add some insecurity and second guessing and mix with a little overanalyzing and this whole project could come to a standstill.

It starts simple enough, I get an idea and I want to write about it. I can feel the words wanting to ooze out and then it all comes to a screeching halt, the wheels start turning and these are some of the conversations that I have:

• Is that too deep? 
• Is it not deep enough? 
• Is that really my story to share? 
• Will people think I'm weird? 
• What if "so and so" reads this? 
• Do I sound dumb?
• Is this blog becoming too much of a downer? 
• I hope people don't feel sorry for me. 
• I'm usually a very positive person. 
• Why do I sound so pathetic? 
• Why even bother? 
• I'm too tired to write anyways. 
• Ugh!!! 
• That sounds stupid. 
• I hope I don't offend anyone.

I could go on and on but you get the picture. I'm sure you've been there too. You don't need to participate in a blogging challenge to encounter insecurity. I have some good news for you. I want to share something really simple but profound and powerful when it comes to facing and slaying the monster of insecurity. I'll start by asking you to look at the word a little differently. Look at it like this:

"In" security instead of insecurity. Why look at it like this? What difference does it make? As I squeeze out some time each night write each night and ultimately hit the punish button, I have found that I am in the most ultimate security there is. I'm in His Security. God has me in His arms. He's wrapped every word I type with grace and healing. And just like that all the insecurities start to melt away. 

So if tonight your feeling insecure, you're in the best position you could ever be -- ready to be held in the secure arms of Our Heavenly Father. He's the only One that won't let you down. Let us face our insecurities tonight with the reminder that we indeed insecure...In the secure arms of the God that gave it all for us.

Much love,

Cristina

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

Confession #3: Tonight I don't feel like writing, like for reals!

So umm...yeah. I kinda don't feel like writing tonight. Like not at all.  I don't care about punctuation or grammar or any of it. I couldn't think of a specific thing I wanted to focus on, not anything confession worthy anyway.

I'm exhausted, worn out, fatigued, and just plain tired. But for some reason I felt compelled to write just that. For the first time ever I'm committed to this process. For the first time  ever I'm pushing through the exhaustion to do something just for me. No deadline at work, no one waiting on a response, no one to jump my butt if I don't get it done. As I sit here and type this out, I must admit that I honestly thought it would be a couple of sentences and a meme like this one:

But to my surprise I'm coming more and more alive as I sit and type. It's weird, and fun, and amazing all at once. I feel like I've finally get what this whole writing thing is all about. It's not about being the best, most eloquent, admired, followed, or witty writer. It's not about how many people even read what I write. It doesn't really even matter if not one person does.

God told me very clearly a couple of years ago, to write. I did not obey. I allowed every single excuse get in the way. I didn't understand why He wanted me to write. What did He even want me to say? So instead of digging into prayer and asking Him, I took the path of less resistance. And oh, how I've paid for it! If only I had known the release, the healing, the rejuvenating, and freedom I am finding at this moment by just jotting down my thoughts, I would have been ALL IN! I guess God really does know what He's doing...Oh when will learn? 

So yeah...tonight I didn't want to write, but as I did God brought a little part of me back to life. Ahhh...and it feels so good!

Much Love,

Cristina

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