Dear Dad,

I don’t like that I’m capable of speaking life in one breath, and in the other I’m shooting daggers of death; when it feels like my back is against the wall. I don’t like that God. It’s not Christ like and I’m not representing your Kingdom, to your children who struggle to believe like my brother. I’m so bothered by where my brother is. I’m so bothered by who my mother chose to be. And I’m so bothered by how my father just decided to walk defeated and not fight to be set free. 

I’m bothered so much. I’m so bothered by the fact that everything is up in the air, and December 1st is only days away. I know by the grace of God you gave us so much time. Time is running out. God you’re making this walk on water, by fixing my eyes on you so rattling. You’re not telling me anything, and you usually keep me in the loop God. Everything is so uncertain. I don’t operate well in this space. I usually do really self destructive things. But I’ve been surrendering all my self harm. I’m glad. Hurting myself is hurting you. As hard as this is, I choose to trust you. 

This past week has been so intense with all these revelations, and walk throughs your way not my way. It’s just been an intense couple a weeks. Just when I think that I can handle this Daniel 3 like season, you go and turn the temperature hotter in this fire God. And then I have this peace that surpasses all understanding. Like none of this makes sense. The human you’ve been pruning, and fine tuning me to be these past three years is so unrecognizable. I’m no longer looking or feeling like the wild-horse I believed I was. I always wondered why I felt like a horse or dolphin, depending on the scenario. It wasn’t until two weeks ago, where my pastor did a sermon on wild-horses, and saying that we as man are wild-horses. 

It was confirmation for me, and Jojo* to write her song: wild-horses. I pray this blog post pushes her to write that beautiful song, as well as all the other songs she has hiding inside. I look in the mirror, and I’m like who the heck is that chick? Seriously I know the broken Crysta, and her tactics. I would’ve totally jumped jobs, went back to sales so that I can save the day with money if I didn’t say yes to you God: on 4.4.14.

But that’s not an option for me. This is a very stressful environment to be in. I don’t understand why you’ve hardbody nipped Jojo* and I moving away from our unhealthy environments. I don’t agree with this pruning process. My family and their dysfunctional brokenness brings out the worse in me. I stopped cursing for two years straight and now I slip up far too many times for my liking. My mom makes me see red. My dad’s discouragement makes me so disheartened, but it also makes me see red too. Like they just gave up and stopped fighting. I’ve been through a lot too. I didn’t witness my favorite uncle be crushed with a car like my mom did. And I didn’t lose my dad at 11 from a car accident, on a night my grandfather didn’t want to go out but was pressured into going, like my dad did. My grandfather was the only one that died that night from the car accident. 

My father losing his father completely changed him. No I didn’t live the hurts my parents did. But I had my own fair share of hurts. I went into pity parties too. I even went further than them both, and tried taking my life, and developed an eating disorder. But I survived all of that, because of you God. This spirit to never stop fighting above all else is so strong in me. I got it from my grandmother on my moms side. I’m so thankful and proud that I encompass the strength of my late grandmother. She was an incredible woman. I’m glad I had the years I had with her. My grandmother grew up in brokenness just like my parents both did, and my siblings and I did. But my grandmother always found a way to fight even after her pity parties. That’s what I do too. God blessed me with vessels throughout my life, that encourage me to fight and not give up. So I just don’t get why my father stopped fighting. He stopped fighting, and then my mother’s health started deteriorating. I don’t think it’s a coincidence. She’s moving around like she’s 90 and she’s only in her 60s. 

It’s hard to see my mom mirror my 90 year old grandmother right before she died. It’s hard to see my father completely defeated and no longer fighting. He stopped fighting years ago. It’s hard being around my family even though I love them so much, and I would want to walk through fire for them. But I can’t. I live for you God and not them. When I said yes, I said yes to everything your way too. Gosh did you have to make absolutely everything so uncertain!? Like seriously what’s going to happen come December 1st!? And I’m just supposed to just go back to work come Monday and “fall in line,” to teach kids in the broken system I work in? My kids need textile equipment. My kids need 1-on-1 learning. Whole group setting isn’t working for my kids. 

I’m sick of telling those *special* humans I work with the same thing over and over again. I just want to choke them sometimes. They make me doing what needs to be done so hard. I know what these kids need. I know how to reach and teach them. But all that annoying culture rules just piss me off. I see right through the power trip. What’s up with all these broken humans on this planet that are so power hungry status chasers!? Newsflash humans, earth is a pistol full of lethal poison to keep us sleepwalking in the mirage of self-sabotage, if we don’t fight to be in God’s Light. I really don’t get the hype God. I really don’t. I look at all of them like they’re so broken, and caught up in a bottomless pit rat race. These humans are untamed shameful wild-horses running in a lane of lame. The scales that are prevailing blinds them through pride, and hide all that’s inside. 

I just want to run. Far away. On a mountain. My peace is everything. I feel like I’m becoming terminally ill from all this broken chaos. There’s so much going on around me, and you’re not letting me do anything about it except pray. I’m tired of praying. Everything is getting worse and all you keep telling me to do God is trust you. Trust you God when I have no clue what the heck will happen to me, or my family come Wednesday. Trust you God when the school I work in is making the same mistakes, that got them in a pile of poop last year. Trust you God when my family is making the same mistakes, that God them in the pile of poop they’re in now. No one is listening to me. 

I really don’t get why you’re pruning me to see clearer and clearer. I would rather go back to being blind. At least then I believe I would not feel so helpless. I wouldn’t feel like I have no choice but to let something painful happen to me, because it’s better than death. I don’t like this madness in my life is taking me back to that night at 19 years old. Why the heck can’t you let me forget God?! You parted a sea for Moses why can’t you part this let me ‘forget that night,’ sea. You’re annoying God. You’re so annoying God. You’re so annoying. I’m so over you and this annoying trigger. I don’t get why you’re not listening to me. It really annoys me. You annoy me God. I love you but I’m so not happy with you in this present moment. I trust you God with everything, even that he you keep saying is for me. I fully believe now no matter what I see. So why is this night still such a big trigger in my life? I’m tired of going back to that space. 

God taking away my make it happen fiscally so that I can’t jump in, and save the day for my family; makes me feel like I’m helpless. It feels like I have to watch a train wreck or have to experience one. Like when I was 19. I realized too late what was going to happen and instead of asking you what to do, I just made a split second decision to hope for the best. I thought if I fought I would die. My parents losing me wasn’t something they could’ve handled at the time. I also thought about my siblings. So I didn’t fight. And that’s why I think what happened to me is my fault and I deserved it. I didn’t fight. That’s why I fight all the time. I am over compensating for that night, because I didn’t fight. I failed that night. I don’t know how to forgive myself. That’s why it’s so hard for me to forgive others.

I didn’t consult you at 19 and that was my mistake. But I’m consulting you now and you’re silent. Why are you making everything, feel like I’m that 19 years old all over again reliving that night? I’m consulting you now. So why can’t you just tell me how you’re going to make a way for all this madness!? Your silence feels backwards. Your silence feels cruel. Your silence feels like a twisted joke. Your silence makes me feel like I haven’t grown, or learned anything since that night at 19. Your silence makes me feel like I’m never going to escape “The Alice in Wonderland” loop drone clone flesh god facade. I don’t want to be in this toxic, robotic, and chaotic place anymore. I want what happened at 19 to stay there. I don’t want dilution of your wine to play a rewind of yesterday, and not the present of today as a solution anymore. I truly want your freedom. I just don’t like the way you’re doing it God. You’re making me face stuff I don’t want to face. It’s not fair.

That’s so not cool to me God. What’s the point of all this shedding!? I feel free. I feel the peace that surpasses all understanding. I feel your anointed oil cord and covering. But why are you making me face the stake of my fake I created in my self-made discovering to do things my way? I get it, things have to be really extreme for me to fix my eyes on you. Like you showing me I do care about my grades, when I fell into a depressing rut in October. My self-made fading away which isn’t suicide, because to me I wasn’t harming myself like before. I was just willing an Enoch type of experience. I was just willing for the world to end and rapture to come now, because humans choose to lose in the world coldly not boldly be set free in You God. There’s a high stake of fake, break, and take. There’s a high stake to blind, and crush humans because of the brokenness and pain humans don’t want to surrender to you God. That’s why that hurt has no worth. 

Only through you all has worth. And after that co-worker blindsided me, I just shut down. It was a struggle for me to believe, and my grades suffered. God I just got tired of fighting. I came out the womb fighting and rising above. I’ve been dealing with blindsiding, backstabbing, dysfunction, and all that encompasses walking through the wilderness of our wild-horse transformation. We are all wild-horses that want to run in the sun, having fun effortlessly because we are free. I love horses so much. I always did, especially black stallions. There’s something so beautiful and majestic about a horse. That’s my favorite animal. My second favorite animal are dolphins. When life got hard like it’s getting right now, I always went to my safe place: the sea or running free. 

I never got to ride a horse. When I came close with a few guys it got blocked at the midnight hour. Back then I thought it was weird, but I get it now. There’s a lot of things I want to do, and love doing but I have to wait on my soulmate. How you blocked me God, and I’m reflecting on that blocking!? It’s clearly why you’ve slowed me down so drastically. The favor on that he you say is for me, is so real. Like wow. Where’s my favor!? Why can’t you just let me fix this problem? Like seriously God. My parents don’t know what to do. But I do. Why did you expose me to sales, fundraising, the real estate world, the legal world, the fashion world, and now teaching which I love the most because I’m working with kids, only to have me be still?! I have all these skill sets and you’re like on this trust me be still command God. It annoys me. 

I truly feel like a pissed off wild-horse that wants to go buck wild. But it’s like you’re stroking my beautiful black mane as this wild-horse, and lovingly telling me to be still and trust you. And I’m listening. That also blows my mind. I’m listening to you God. I don’t listen. It’s very hard for me to listen to humans, especially when I see their nonsense and lies. And then the Holy Spirit, and how the favor comes for these humans, with my silence to not flip out?! The favor is so real for these *special humans.* Feeling like a wild-horse, I just want to find land to just run as fast as I can. But you God have me in this quicksand, on my Cornerstone Best, without distress or hesitancy. Just your straight confident consistency. I’m not sliding, gliding or hiding in this quicksand. I’m united with you, because you are true and I stand on your command God. 

Dad this is hard, it’s hard to trust all of this when I want to say case dismissed, on to the next, because these humans want to press play in the decay of yesterday as a defect. As your wild-horse, I cannot neglect that I said yes to your command and demand. So keep training me your way and not my way. I have to keep fighting and being your bridge in these gaps. My flaws tell all, that we all have pitfalls that only you God can meet us, to show us that you can set us free. Man cannot confirm what only you God affirm, that’s His Return. Your way, not our way; and definitely not fighting to lie and die stuck in a rut of yesterday. 

You train us all, as wild-horses to be tame no longer running on this land, thinking in a sinking quicksand, and hidden shame, to address what we fearfully do not want to confess. Instead, we stress in our pitfalls covered in pale scales that fail to be the see of your Kingdom. Only you God can set us free. Thank you for loving us all this much God. You are such a romantic. The greatest man ever. The only true love that teaches all of us how to love. Because all good things come from Above. Thank you for reaching all of us so faithfully, by teaching us to love one another deeply. Love covers over a multitude of sins. God loves y’all SO much saints. Push through and fight to cling to His Light. Trust the process. God truly has us all. Fight to see His Hidden Details. Love your sister Crysta. 

Love your daughter.

*names changed for privacy reasons. #TeamProPrivacy 



Everything involving God is so sacred, and so sensitive. God wants us to pay attention to the fact that we as man, are so sensitive with what we wear, what we eat, and where we worship. 

Why do we not take the same sensitivity to the temples of our body? Why is it that society has made a mockery that’s followed by many, especially privately to disgrace the space that God is saying to be still & wait? 

Sex before marriage will always lead to the savage of damaged; even if the said couple falls into a legalized lie called marriage. 

This hit it and quit it misfit will always be a deception and misconception. This two strand quicksand will never be lasting, because a marriage is an edification, not a check list or fashion statement. Marriage is God’s Ministry.

Marriage is an edification to minister to the world: God is the third strand that connects the land of two flesh becoming one. 

So they are no longer two, but one flesh. Therefore, what God has joined together, let no man separate. Matthew 19:6. 

Two flesh will only be the see of one when God ordained and blesses. God will never bless fornication. God will never bless sex before marriage. And God will never bless when two go into a union unprepared and unaware:  leaning on the glean and mean of man, and the lies of popularity, who missed the mark in the dark of purpose.

Finding a leader that’s a bleeder to this wrong seed weed in a church, doesn’t make the stake of fake holy. And finding a leader that’s a bleeder to justify that suffocating lie, doesn’t change this hurt will never have any worth, no matter how much man puts in work. And a false prophet who makes it hobbit, in a messy no unity community, is not of God; that false prophet who made it hobbit is just a flesh god facade preaching the leeching of mirage and self-sabotage. 

This legalized two flesh never coming as one, is hypnotized and paralyzed by the lies that hide well inside, and were swallowed in a hallow sorrow of no tomorrow. Today is a present, which makes this day a scared place and a gift. satan is the stealer of joy, and the stealer of real, which makes satan the stealer of today. satan pushes the rush and fuss of always decaying in the yesterday of delay, dismay, and disobey to never enter better together today. There is security in the purity of God. So we as man must reject the worldly prospect of flesh god facades. This space is a disgrace of lying chaotic, robotic, and toxic logic.

That choice is the wrong voice, and will always bleed wrong seed weeds. This bleed in wrong seed weed will never replace the space of empty, with this toxin popularity of “The Alice and Wonderland,” loop of droned cloned troops to regularity being the blind prideful in corruptive confetti. 

A stone that causes people to stumble and a rock that makes them fall. They stumble because they disobey the message–which is also what they were destined for. 1 Peter 2:8. 

Disobeying and delaying our destiny to press play on the eject of purpose, and to play the forced course of popularity, doesn’t make the routine of mean, lean, and glean featuring a wrong she God’s Regularity. That’s just a faded lust turned to rust in a secondary expiring reasoned season, that will eventually be history in that man made misery. Misery and sharing that decaying company, doesn’t make the stake of fake forever or better together. 

Only God prunes and fine tunes, not the cling to put on wrong rings or to feed a bleed of wrong seed weeds. Lust will never be love, it’s a hype that fades faster that a rushing wave, that sucks man in like the vortex of a rabbit hole crazed in a hazed maze. That’s a reel of suffocating stings. Choose to lose the world to rise above in love. Fight to cling to sing in God’s Wings. Don’t feed the worldly need to be trapped in the zap, of dead lead wrong pair of wedding rings that will always sting. Or even that backwards hat that will always feel like a trap that makes one want to forever nap. 

satan is on a mission to steal the permission to have man be quicksand in sleepwalking. This is the space of fake break and take. satan cannot afford to have man awaken, the world must be shaken and paralyzed by lies that hide well inside. Wrong couples in wrong hues of two, wearing wrong wedding rings makes managing chaos easier for satan. Wrong couples in wrong hues of two, is the army that satan wants to rise and hypnotize, by the persistent assistance in false prophets who make it hobbit: to press play in the decay of yesterday to never be better together in today. 

If all else fails in His Hidden Details, God still prevails. God will go in the rabbit hole to show the truth: we all need God. We as man will never survive in the divide of dying lying quicksand. No accountability suffocates the integrated necessity called maturity. We all have to show up in the place called grow up. Immaturity is no productivity, connectivity, or sensitivity to the Holy Spirit. 

Maturity only comes when we as man stand in the quicksand to hold God’s hand above man, and accept humility will always be a godly unity. Not a no unity night community, that is an ugly backwards hat, and an opportunity to feed the bleed of wrong seed weeds. That is an ugly that’s funky, and will never be better together or forever, because only God can make the stake of fake into all things new. Only God is true. Only God can say: today it’s not too late, do not hesitate to take my hand, and stand in my Kingdom Land. 

Survival will never be God’s revival. We must thrive in the rejecting of our neglecting to no longer be stronger in hiding what’s inside. We must be in pursuit to refuse the ruse of coldly not boldly. 

The stone the builders ejected has become the cornerstone. Psalm 118:22; 1 Peter 2:7.

That maze fades in a radiating rust of dust, and in the thrills of no gills with cheap lemonade. Only God can breathe life into the nostrils of dust: He is the Great I Am. The loop of crazed daze will never be: Jesus as The Renegade. Follow the bow, and allow the show of pretend to finally end. 

Every knee shall bow. Every tongue shall confess that Jesus Christ is Lord. Philippians 2:10-11.

Be still beautiful saints it takes time, and great courage to let go of what society has marked man to be the standard go in never growing. Man’s go will always be God’s no. Pay attention to the details: that’s God’s greatest reveals, and hidden conceals of satan’s red flags. satan is glad to create hesitate in pale scales prevail. 

We can do all things through Christ who strengthens us. Philippians 4:13.

Let go and grow into the image that God created all of us to be. We are all His Chosen, and God has a plan for all of us. It’s up to us as man to take a stand, and allow the bow to let go of the show called status and money chasing. Let go of the no to the unknown. Reject the yes to distressed droned clone of known. That choice will always be man’s voice, leaving the peeling feelings of confused, fearful, and alone. 

That is a pale scale that blinds the need to release the displease of the wrong seed weeds. Growth is hurt but growth has worth only when God is going before us. The worldly hurt is suffocating, isolating, and manipulating. 

But how is it to your credit if you receive a beating for doing wrong and endure it? But if you suffer for doing good and you endure it, this is commendable before God. 1 Peter 2:20.

Through God pain has gain only. So pause the cause of leaning on man’s limited mind and words. All that does is create the buzz of rewind in time and cultivate hurt with no worth. 

Who has ever heard of such things? 

Who has ever seen things like this?

Can a country be born in a day

or a nation be brought forth in a moment? 

Yet no sooner is Zion in labor 

than she gives birth to her children. Isaiah 66:8.

Giving all to God is key, it gives room for God to fight for us, and to make a way in today; not the sorrow of no tomorrow. Pain has gain through God only saints. Accept godly respect and His Intellect. Decide to no longer hide in the cry to neglect: no respect is a hurt with no worth prospect. The self inflicts of those wrong rings, mutes the voice to sing in His Wings. The disrespect in that two strands ugly backwards hat, is a disgrace space that will never replace shame or lame. That will always be a worldly tranquil and dying trap. The two wrong hues will never be true. Only God can reveal the concealed to fully heal. Man will always break, take and suffocate when the hearts are far from God. It’s the modern day Pharaoh hardened heart. Only God can turn a heart of stone to flesh.  Not popularity in regularity, and not a routine that’s mean, lean, and glean. Only God can set souls free in faithful belief to finally see.

God ordained is never arranged after premarital sex in a hush hush to never discuss rushed wedding dress. The Pearly White doesn’t negate the sinful internal fight. God makes all new not man who ignores what’s true. Repentance is the gateway to His Inheritence. The wrong pair of rings will always sting. Marriage after premarital sex will always be savaged damage, if God is not behind the two that decide to do what’s best: in a distress under pressure. Planting seeds that’s weeds still burn out, and fade to clear the foggy haze in the daze that’s crazed. 

Only God keeps the flame of love strong and going in growing. Nothing survives without the strand of God’s Revives. The mismatch that man said go, will always be the decay in disobey when God will always say no. Thinking in man will always create the sinking of quicksand. Quicksand will always be damaged savage wrong path math of two hues that will never be true. God has better, so take His Hand to see His Forever. God loves you so much saints, so do I because He taught me to. And I want to. 

Love your sister Crysta. 


her He healed her heart 

her is me & correct she

her He & correct she are now never apart

her He has her walking through her past

her He is showing the growing will last

this her is me

this her can now see

this her is now set free

this her truly believes 

what her He sees

he + He + her

will always be God’s Stir

Two weeks ago, 

the blast from the past 

zapped me in a tranquility,

that’s still lasting on sound blast. 

I saw another ex boyfriend that wasn’t my sixth jar, that made me see I needed to be set free. This ex was jar number four, there were two more to go. This she who is me, has truly been set free from the urge to no longer be purged from fleeing. My King who makes my soul sing, holds my ready ring, and needs me to walk through my talks in my stings. This jar number four verbally abused me, and who is her in God’s Stir: he + He + her. 

Seeing this ex had me reeling from the pain, that I refused to make a gain. I went to the past as if this ex I saw as jar number four, wants back in my door. As if number four didn’t let me walk away seven years ago. As if number four didn’t contribute to my muted, saluted tribute. As if number four didn’t impurely floor me with the meanness he expressed in his confess about my body. As if number four doesn’t see his words forever changed me. 

When this number four saw me two weeks ago, I was with Jojo* he didn’t know how to act, and looked like he was calculating how to come back in my life. I forgave him but I didn’t forget. This number four forgot his words made me cry and die to hide what’s inside. I don’t think it’s coincidence that I was thinking about this he who God says is for me, and completes His Stir: he + He + her, when I saw number four. I was so unfazed by seeing this ex. I’m so unfazed by any man that isn’t this he, who God says is for me. All I see is this he, who God say is for me. All I want is this he, who God says for me. 

I’m in the space that cannot replace this he, truly is for me no matter what this he does or makes me see. What this he projects does not neglect, that I respect what God biblically expressed about our flesh shall be one. Three strands for His Kingdom Band: he + He + her. Currently this he has two strands, in the quicksand of the world coldly not boldly. Currently this he wears the gear of that ugly backwards hat, he picked up from that trick, and hiccup of his wrong she who will never ever be me: correct she. This wrong she is the flee who believes she who findeth not he, is the see this he will stick to and cling to. 

This wrong she, didn’t calculate this he’s mind rewinding time, to comprehend this wrong she’s pretending came to an end. This wrong she didn’t calculate she will never be enough, because the lust faded to rust and all this wrong she is to this he: is dust he no longer wants to be stronger in the delay of this decayed disobey. Lust will never be a wrong strong enough to be forever, or better together. Lust will always be a hit it and quit it misfit. This wrong she pushing to make this deception a legalized misconception, will never change this was a multiple voice in the wrong choice arrangement when both parties ignored God’s voice.  

her He healed her heart 

her is me & correct she

her He & correct she are now never apart

her He has her walking through her past

her He is showing the growing will last

this her is me

this her can now see

this her is now set free

this her truly believes 

what her He sees

he + He + her

will always be God’s Stir

All I want is this he who God says is for me to take my hand, and stand better together, as three stands, and be happy. I want this madness all over. I just want His Stir to occur already: he + He + her. I want us to be above and beyond the safe copestic, this he is used to clinging to. If the highest grade to receive is a 4, then I want me and this he that God says is for me, to be 4 trillion times more. I want infinity with this he. I have infinity tatted behind my left ear. Three strands is engrained in my veins to never settle for less no matter what transpired or what this he confesses. It’s year three it’s still me, and I’m glad I walked through my hurt to have worth. I’m glad I’m no longer mad and sad. I’m glad God used the ruse my he is in to set me free and so he will be too. Because I’m the path that’s correct math in this pending aftermath. I’ll always be the hue that’s true: blue times two.

I want it all with only this he who God says is for me. This pruning process is like a slow churn burn that’s painfully, yet gainfully hard to overturn from pending to now. Why can’t this he just take his bow, and allow God to move in this hallow swallow of only sorrow and no tomorrow?  Like I want to snap my finger and begin with this he who’s for me. But I have to keep walking through all these weeds, that make me bleed like this jar number four; and how his verbal abuse caused me to project my fearful ruse that made my he who is for me so confused. 

I shut down and played safe like this he who feels stuck in this rut with this she who he wishes was me. I condemned this he without expressing my provoke that made me choke. I ran just like this he who God says is for me. I suppressed my deep distress of all the stings from my past. I cannot blame my shame on this he who God says is for me. Not anymore, plus I don’t want to. I’m not a pending confused girl anymore. I’m an arrived woman of God, ready for God to do what needs to be done as I sit in His Stillness and wait as His saint, for this he who is for me.

her He healed her heart 

her is me & correct she

her He & correct she are now never apart

her He has her walking through her past

her He is showing the growing will last

this her is me

this her can now see

this her is now set free

this her truly believes 

what her He sees

he + He + her

will always be God’s Stir

This jar number four did hurt broken Crysta. Broken Crysta is dead. She didn’t know her worth. But the woman I am today, knows my identity is found in Christ alone. I know as the woman of God, that I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. I looked at this jar number four, and felt nothing because the broken girl that was with him is dead. That’s why he wants back in my life. And he can’t because my heart belongs to God and the he that is for me. I want my heart to always be with the he that is for me. I made the switch to stick to love, and believe this supernatural click in the puzzle is me and this he.

I’m made new and my he will be too. The dream exposed, showed me I’m no longer afraid to have this he who God says is for me in my space, because I trust him. I trust him to one day be with me intimately after matrimony, never before because doing it God’s way is the Obey in today. I walked through the aftermath of my stings, from verbal attacks that gave me insecure setbacks. Jar number four is out the door and is not my he who God says for me. God is key to set my he free as God prunes and fine tunes this son of God’s who was made for me. Because only God makes all things new. God has already ordained our path, and our math will always be he + He + her. That’s the only equation without any hesitation, and will always be a godly celebration. As His saint, I wait for my king and my rings. 

God continue to find tune me to be the woman that will always be free for my he and for your edifying Kingdom. God thank you for protecting my he neglecting of his mind and heart to never be too far from you God. God thank you for loving him through this season full of reasons to rise above and choose love always. God thank you for reaching by teaching this son of yours that there is no fear in love. Thank you for reaching by teaching this son of yours that love only comes from Above. Continue to walk this he into his revival and restoration to be set free. Amen.

I’m done with reacting from this he’s retracting.

I’m done with crying from this he’s lying. 

I’m done with making my gauge based of this he stage of caged rage.

I’m done with staking my faith on his prisoner mate of choosing to lose in self hate.

I’m done with using the excuse to not refuse, to defuse by rising above and choosing love.

I’m done acting like I don’t love him and like he doesn’t matter because he does and always will. 

I’m done with making this he bigger than God, because this he is walking through the bondages of his flesh god facades.

It took me years to acknowledge my fears, and hidden tears so that means this he has a similar confessed process. 

I’ll be stronger in this pending walk with this he, that God says is for me no matter what I hear or see. 

I choose the gear that births the seeds, which will propel us into prosperity and holy matrimony when you say God.

I’ll be the neck while this he continues to be pruned, and fine tuned as the head of our future household God always had in store. 

I’ll be the iron sharpener that makes this he, who God says for me to awaken from his deep sleep of shaken. 

I’ll be whatever His he needs, because I’m set free to be the rib to this ribcage unapologetically. 

The puzzle is complete.

It will always be me.

The click still sticks.

I’m not a trick.

I’m real and you’ll always feel with only me. 

This he is writing through his release.

This he is identifying through his displease.

This he is delighting through His Ease.

I will always be the true her in His Stir:

he + He + her.

I decided to trust this process. 

God has us and this pending ending season.

Then this he will see, be set free and come to me.

If my faith in this truth because God’s word is my proof, makes me a fool then I say yes. I’ll always choose to lose the world to dance with my King that makes my soul sing. I only trust my King with my ready rings. I’ll never put that important decision in the hands of the broken quicksand of man. Man destroys like satan but Jesus restores and makes all new. God’s Stir will occur. 

aimez vos côtes bleu


Dear Dad, 

Thank you Jesus. Thank you God, for your consistency and your persistent purity in my security. Thank you for your pursuit of my fragile heart. Thank you for showing me, that I will never be far or ever apart from this Holy Trinity: you God, my savior who’s far greater, and the Holy Spirit that dwells within me. Your Presence is so thick and evident in my space. Thank you God for that truth by being all the proof I need. You’re everything I’m not God. You’re changing me God. I’m moved and feel you always God. In mazes like that dream I just woke up from, you will always be my gauge to never fall in a trap of fear or rage. 

You’ve blessed your vessel Anna Golden with her budding platform. And you’ve blessed me with the ability to be moved by her music. Changing Me and Take Me There are my favorite worship songs on her album. God I lift this obedient daughter to you. I pray she receives the abundant blessings that she’s walking through right now. I pray over her life, Alignment and prosperity consistently, and abundantly to overflow her cup. She’s about to blow up, and I wouldn’t be surprised she waiting patiently for your timing to have her shine. It’s her time now, and I’m so excited for her. 

This reminds me about the growing buzz of Lauren Diagle’s release last year. I remember being excited for her too. I remember that her album pushed me to choose you God. I was blessed by Jojo’s* discovery of her. Lauren Diagle’s album got me through last year. Last year was so rough and tough. A lot tougher and rougher than this year, and this year has been pretty hectic. But the hurt last year, from all that occurred between me and this he you say is for me, truly changed me. 

Along with prayer, my bible, Jojo, and Lauren Diagle’s album got me through the roughest year of my life. That’s telling because I thought year 19 was my roughest year. My assault changed me too. But it wasn’t harder than last year. That pain had gain, and my hurt had worth because I took everything to you. I held nothing back from you God. That he, you God say is for me taught me to run faster to you. I am free to rise above and choose love always unapologetically and aggressively. I will always choose to trust you God. I will always choose to lose in Your Race at Your Pace. Losing the world is the greatest gift you’ve ever blessed me with God. I wanted nothing of the world after what transpired last year. Thank God love is greater, thank you God for your love, my writing you blessed me with God, and thank you for worship music. Thank you for singing God. 

Lauren Diagle is a known worship artist that’s won Dove awards, and also got recognized by the AMA’s that’s huge for the Christian community. God you’re moving, and I see you. I’m paying attention to your details. You know how much I love music. I love singing. I love beats. I love words. I follow biblical and godly words only; everything else I neglect and reject. I love playing music, and everything else music encompasses. But I never liked the perversion of secular music. Music wasn’t designed to be confined to brokenness. A lot of secular music is brokenness. Cursing is brokenness. The emphasis and stress of sex, money, and drugs is brokenness. This wolf called satan is a wannabe sheep in cheap clothing. The world is very broken Dad. Dilution is the solution to so many, and that makes me so sad. The brokenness of the world is exposed and at an all time high.

I have so many musical geniuses in my family. Growing up I never understood why they’re not blown up by now. I didn’t understand then, but I understand now: heart checks. We must be healthy and pure in You God, for anything to occur. You also know how much I believe, we are all created with multiple specific talents, that are only meant to magnify & edify: Your Great Name only. I refused to lose myself in the ruse of this world. Although I was so mad at 13, when my mom convinced my dad to not let me go to Paris. I see now as you God, honoring my greatest desire: to only have my talents edify Your Great Name. I’m happy that the same build up is happening to Anna Golden now, occurred last year for Lauren Diagle. Anna is another amazing obedient vessel you’re working through. I’m so excited for her, and Lauren. The best is truly yet to come for the music world. Folks ain’t ready, but I am. 

I wasn’t always as anchored as I am now to you God. Who knows what would’ve happened… if Paris had a different outcome? I don’t know but you know that’s why I didn’t go. I get why you let me live, and let me believe I was done with writing and poetry. You saw I needed to see how big you are Dad. I’m seeing your details clearly now, so so clearly God. You’re bigger than big. You’re even showing me talents I have that I had no clue I had. This all blows my mind but I wait to move after you with everything. I choose love, and I choose to withhold nothing. You used my defiance all this time, to prune and fine tune my alignment in You God. 

Anna Golden’s album is the place, I go to after I have a dream that bothers me; like the dream I just had. I don’t understand, and I asked you for clarity God. Your response is you having me writing, feeling exposed so that makes me believe, that I have to walk through this unknown; but you go before me so I know it’s okay to follow. Before I had this dream, I was avoiding going back to sleep as if I subconsciously knew something is around the corner. But I still found sleep, and you are the reason I woke up God. I’m always freed from satan’s whack attempts to paralyze me, when I pray and when I sing worship music in my dreams. 

I still don’t like dreaming, because this is happening too often for my liking; so my flesh god facade was to stop sleeping, that stops the clock of dreaming. And this he you say is for me, needs me to dream. My disobey is not okay, and delays the shedding of my worldly decay. So I surrender my fears of discovering all the tears I buried through all my years. I say yes to always confess, and trust my distress is a process to see truth; so no more refuse and no more excuses to see. God keep setting me free so I can be Yours fully. 

So in this dream I missed your details, because I got tripped up in the newness of the room I was in. That was the first sign I should’ve paid attention to. Your patience and sovereignty God truly blows my mind. God you refuse to let me press play in the ruse of delay, decay, and rewind. Thank you Dad for protecting my neglecting of my mind. Thank you Dad for having my back when I think, and focus on the sink that Crysta is whack. But your love is my Sacred Dove, that shows me to grow and walk through the truth, of that being a setback though satan’s attacks. 

Spiritual warfare is not discussed enough, and that could be the very reason, your saints bleed in wrong seed weeds, to avoid supernatural and make a stake in the fake of tangibility by being: that no unity night community. Faith is not tangible. Tangibility is not humility or accountability. Tangibility are lies that hide well inside. That’s not real church, that’s hurt with no worth. Man cannot confirm. Only God affirms His Return. Man cannot do anything bigger or greater than God. Any other belief is the thief called satan having pale scales prevail in flesh god facades. Jesus restores and explores all satan doesn’t want exposed. 

But a lot of your chosen God made faith cheap lemonade; by diluting your wine into kool-aid; and idolizing your broken chosen in their role of spiritual leadership. But so many of your chosen fail to prevail, in the walk of seeing spiritual leaders can be false prophets preachers and teachers, that make it hobbit to reach delay in decays of disobey and dismay, of the reel to play yesterday and never today. The present is a gift of clarity that satan is on a mission to destroy. Saints heart check the economy of language being used and the lens that’s chosen. If it’s not present it’s not today; and you are stuck in yesterday. Be still to grab His Gills, reject and neglect those cheap thrills.

That’s why stillness cannot be a misfit, or a hit it and quit it misconception, or deception. satan is tangible, and satan rushes. satan is secretive. satan is manipulative. The same way you God have ambassadors on assignments, satan does too. This very real truth is brushed under a cloak of invisibility in the churches. That makes me see red, because Purpose gets sidetracked through hypes that fade in cheap lemonade, because man snuffed out Your Gills for popularity being the regularity. Man snuffed out Jesus as their Renegade. I’m deeply disturbed by how society thinks making Christianity a sinking lukewarm norm to conform. So many humans talk a speech that’s really a leech to not walk the godly talk of freedom. 

This happens a lot in churches. It happened in the church I grew up going to with my family, and it happened in the church Jojo and I just left. I’m tired of popularity being the regularity over purpose. That’s why pedigree pisses me off. Status is a hype that makes me so tight. And that’s why I refused to be in the ruse of that rusty and dusty rat race. My sister got caught up in that pedigree nonsense. I was like nah I’m good, this is stupid. My dad went to The University of Pennsylvania, with a double major in psychology and chemistry. He was ready to go to medical school, and then my grandmother died. 

That test was supposed to push him not discourage him. And then the whack broken people, that tried to break my dad as he grew up affected him. Every time we talk and he tells me the stuff, those whack people that were supposed to be his family and what they told him, makes me want to knock them all out. My dad has one of the biggest hearts ever. Just like my brother does. But people pick on them, and I’m like pick on me I’ll make you bleed. But God and the favor he has on these whack broken people. 

I cannot stand bullies. They shouldn’t exist according to me. I see what cruelty did to my dad. I see what it’s doing to my brother now. I cannot even talk about what cruelty did to my mother. It breaks my heart. It’s hard to discuss. I see what pedigree has done to my sister. This is why I’m determined to stay aligned to you God. The list is too long to touch what this broken world did to my brother in law, or even Jojo’s* family. I am on a mission to end these chains of generational curses. I’m too through with seeing those I love the most have scales prevailing, because of discouragement, fear, and lies that hide well inside. 

We budded heads a lot growing up, me and my family. I’m strong willed, just like my dad; and I’m not easily fooled. I’m feisty just like my sister, and grandmother on my mom’s side was when she was alive. I didn’t grow up with my dad’s family that much because a lot of them are whack. Those that aren’t I’m glad I know and love them. I’m artistically talented, and highly intelligent just like everyone in my family is. I’m quick to swing like my brother, and can hold an interesting conversation, of any topic, like he does because we grew up bored, looking for more so we looked up random facts. 

I’m charming like my dad and brother in law. So just imagine the colorful conversations that occurred growing up. Unless I fell in a slump, I always saw clearly, until the hits of the world, got too much. That’s when I wanted to fade away. I’ll never try to take my life again, but I did want to fade a few weeks ago, and I’m sorry God. I surrender that too. And Jojo crying after I admitted that to her, showed me I cannot do that to people who love me. I was sad I made her sad. And I cannot do that too you God. Even though you blocked it, I still want to acknowledge hurting you hurts me too Dad. Being this transparent makes me feel very exposed. But this is the first time I’m not afraid or ashamed because I finally see that’s a lame laced with shame, to keep me tame from freedom. Epic fail satan, epic fail. I just got started. 

I’m not going to get tripped up on not being an alumni from NYU too. I didn’t go there. I rebelliously refused to not even apply to ivory leagues. I witnessed what being an alumni to pedigree did to my sister. There’s a level of settling, after an ivory league pedigree is attached to your name. It’s the same lame I see in this he you say is for me. He has ivory league pedigree too. I love my sister, but that trip up looks so whack. No thanks. Settling isn’t what any human is build for. I was made for all, so I want it all. Those blueprints you keep showing me, that will be birthed through me and Jojo!? Let’s go. I want it now, this current assignment is whack, but necessary. I see the bondages leaving me, that I didn’t even know were hiding inside. Of course I move on your timing, not mine. I tried going ahead of you God. Jojo tried going ahead of you too. You’ve made it clear it’s not happening. So message received. 

So in this dream there was something whimsical about this room I was laying in, there wasn’t anything extravagant about it. It was just different than the room I rest in now. I can’t even remember all details. I just remember periwinkle walls. That was the same color as my high school prom dress. I loved going shopping for that dress, because I got to spend so much time with my sister. But my sister wasn’t in the dream with me, my dad was. He said something I can’t remember now. I think can you figure it out on your own today… blah something blah, and I said sure but I was paying more attention to the discouragement and defeat, I picked up from his voice. I made a mental note to discern it later, then this he that God says is for me, popped up into my head like supernaturally. And I was like oh okay this again, got it. 

I saw a glimmer of where he places his hands on me when we’re sleeping, and it made me smile. But then the weirdest thing happened: my left breast exploded. And my dad started talking, and I couldn’t make out what he was saying, because all I heard was chaos. I’m very sensitive to sound and tones. I pick up a lot from sounds and tones. Then this dude I never saw before came in this periwinkle room, and tried walking towards me, and my heart started racing. But I was still thinking about my left boob exploding. 

I didn’t get it because I don’t have a boob job. But I wanted to get one, because of my ex. The guy I helped get promoted, that I wrote about in my horde post from last year stopped me. God used him to block me and I’m grateful. I love all of me for who I am now. That was a hard journey to get to this place, but it’s the space my King wants me to sing in so I will. In this dream, this guy came closer, and fear came over my heart. Both my grandmothers died of breast cancer. Jojo’s mom has breast cancer. Two of my aunts are battling breast cancer now. One of my aunts died six years ago of breast cancer. I’m afraid I’ll get breast cancer too. God is making me face my fears whether I want to, or not because I said yes to being His.

Fear being in my heart didn’t sit well with me, so I started praying then I started singing in the dream, and that’s when I woke up. I immediately prayed, then stayed in stillness. Then I was lead to have Changing Me, by Anna Golden on replay as God leads me to write this post now. When I started falling asleep to this album by Anna Golden, when I first discovered her through Jojo, I started getting visions of the future, of what and how God will use Jojo and I. It’s exciting but frustrated, because it’s not now. I’m over how everything looks and feels now. So I was really bratty about how I handled my frustration and my impatience. I stopped listening to this album, because I figured the visions would stop. The visions did stop, until this past Sunday at church. 

I was minding my business, and listening to this daughter of God’s express her dream to open a charter school in Elmhurst, Queens. I was inspired by her passion in education, and to be a bridge. It’s mirroring to mine. I’m such a champion for the least of these, and so ready to fight. But God you’re like fight in my light. I’m not always desiring to be nice. Thank God that you run this and not me. I’m clearly a hotheaded mess. When I saw the visions came back in church, I was battling being excited and pissed. I knew a change was about to happen. I loved that no one knew me at my new church. No one knows me then no one can hurt me. But God is God. 

I signed up to volunteer for this woman’s vision, because I believe in her passion, and see her fight to obey God. Plus you told me to sign up God, and I wrestled with you and lost. I told her it’s going to happen. I told her to trust God, and to know it will be hard, but stick to God. She thanked me for the encouragement. I basically told her what you lead me to say God. Then I told her about things I had no plans on telling her: my church hurt, my fears of serving again, and my fear of people knowing me. She told me she’s glad I signed up. You’re just taking all my fears and bondages God. Wow. Even my bondage with my sister. 

I idolized my sister growing up. She’s ten years older than me. I thought she was perfect, and had the perfect life. My sister was an all state cheerleader, that traveled all over the country with her team she lead in high school, which was Brooklyn Tech. My sister did a lot of community projects, and served like a superwoman. In a lot of ways she still does. Like I cannot do what she does, I was not created to. I was created for other things. My sister is a creative genius, that’s doing a boring legal job she clings to because it’s “safe.” When I became a woman, I saw she settled and that pissed me off. I see the same settling in this he you say is for me, this he is also a creative genius that hides behind a “safe job,” too. My sister went to NYU, found her soulmate, and they were the rave everywhere they went. Like the typical hallmark movies I love watching so much. Growing up I thought all love stories had to look like that. 

My sister threw the greatest parties at NYU with my brother in law. My brother in law, was one of the most wanted DJs back in the day. My brother in law got signed at def jam when both him, and my sister were attending NYU. When that happened, my sister told him, her or the rap life. And my brother in law chose my sister. I grew up watching them, and told myself I’ll never have a love story like that. Both my sister and brother in law are well connected. That was intimidating too. My sister was recognized in so many areas of NYU, that saying she was my sister started to feel so intimidating. At one point I didn’t want to talk about anyone I was related to. I’m related to quite a few successful people.

My sister is the typical golden olden first born child. When I became a woman, my bubble popped about my sister. I realized she’s just as flawed, and very human just like me. I realized that I’m not meant to have a love story like hers. I’m not her, and she’s not me. My path is different than hers. Because we’re both two different daughters of God. And then I learned that idolize is not of God, and a bandaged facade. I also learned I was looking at my sister and brother in law, whom I love very much from a secular worldly lens. I no longer breathe or see through that stance. I’m set free and choose to lose in the world, to always rise above in love. I can’t accept being with my soulmate, in the worldly okay. No, we have to do it God’s way, or I would rather stay single and he can stay where he is. I refuse to lose in the ruse of confuse. 

I can see. I’ve been set free. I’m never looking back, my hiccups are not trip ups, they’re just setbacks in the attacks, to make me choose to lose the world, and rise above in love. There’s no fear in love. Thanks Dad. Thank you for using the losing, and confusing ruse for Your Clarity in setting me free from all that has been exposed in me. Thank you for making me see only you God. 

Thank you for teaching me through that no unity night community, this wrong she and he you God say is for me, were used to set me free. Your Voice will always be my choice. Thank you for popping my bubble through that false prophet who made it hobbit, by trusting me and showing me, this same lame false prophet is playing delay in decay of yesterday, with a wrong she too. I chose to lose this world, because rising above in love is better together. The only strands I want to represent your Kingdom Band is three. Your Stir: he + He + her. I’ll continue to confess and express that I will never settle for less. I love you world. The dream ended with me singing as that man I didn’t know was walking towards me. Trust the process saints. We are in the best hands possible: God’s. I love you world, from your sister Crysta.

Love your daughter. 

*names changed for privacy reasons. #TeamProPrivacy 


Dear Dad,

So I’m trying to sleep, and count sheep yet this isn’t the space where you’ll slow me down in my pace. Clearly I don’t want to do this write your way, and definitely not today. But God I’ve lived long enough to be the witness, to how you dismiss my flesh god facades. The decay of yesterday was too real. Last night that best last first bite bravado that Jojo* absorbed from ms. 17 as a motto, was mean, lean, and glean. Just like this he, you God keep saying is for me, is playing delay in his decay of that ugly backwards hat, when he spat on truth to dilute your proof: in same lame shame with ms. 17, who is wrong she believes she is home free. 

What wrong she receives is an agonizing grieving worldly achieving. Two strands will never better together, nor magically become His Three Strands. The world said go in this wrong hue of two’s flow, but God said no. Wrong she is constantly fighting for God’s lighting, and delighting in this legalized hypnotized hit it and quit it misfit. Wrong she is constantly fighting for God’s alignment, in this legalized solitary confinement. Wrong she is constantly fighting for God’s path, to correct this wrong math of quicksand to be His Mastery Plan. Two wrong hues will never be His Stir. That’s only he + He + her. Her is the me as this he’s correct she, which all three in this see wrestle to believe is Your Be. I now allow my hallow swallow to set me free, and I choose love from your above, regardless what these two in their wrong hue do. It’s me and You God. 

The last six months of my life have been pretty intense, and full of suspended condensed arranged changes. This is all apart of my call with your refining my aligning, through this pruning process God. When I said yes, you’ve been awakening my taking in the distress, of wrong seeds weeds that make me bleed with worldly need. When I said yes, you’ve turned my bitter into sweet. When I said yes, you’ve showed my lies, that make me cry and hide what’s inside. 

When I said yes, you’ve shown me, that my corruptive confetti never replaced the space of my empty. When I said yes, you’ve shown me, that holding onto my hurt had no worth. When I said yes, and trusted you with my pain, you’ve shown me that I didn’t combust; but actually walked through Your Gain and Your Trust. Thank you for always being my first true love. Thank you for showing me, that all good things only come from Above. Thank you for being my Sacred Dove. Thank you for showing me, to never ever settle again in the pressing the stressing in pretend to never end. 

Work is now slowly starting to not stress me out. From all angles I was getting attacks in setbacks. I’m grateful that the two female co-workers that stressed me out, are now being handled. It was disheartening that the same thing happened here too. The grievance from achieving through my believing in solely You God. I always gets provoked, and evoked to make me choke. But Your Gills teach me to reach for Your Be Still. I reject my neglect in worldly cheap thrills.

I’ve always had issues with females. For the longest I thought I was the problem, which is why I kept removing myself but I’m the common denominator, and God is my numerator. He goes before me, and God showed me that it’s not all me in my wrong seed weeds. That’s partially why I went through so many careers. Besides the fact that I was clearly playing god in my facade. I was not okay when I always say. I was really in dismay feeling like peeling decay. I pick up a lot from people around me. I rarely said anything before my surrender, and now I can’t seem to close my mouth. That’s a God problem, and his solution is for me to no longer be stronger in my silent mute saluted tribute. 

Women empowering women is something I’m very passionate about. Hands down I walk in the belief, if a woman cannot achieve a healthy godly sisterhood, she’ll never be able to have a healthy godly marriage. We are siblings in Christ first. Sisterhood is a crucial foundation, to all healthy godly relationships. And the same process applies for God’s sons, in the context of brotherhood. Jojo* is my sister for life. Like what we have survived together, in the world and in You God, is all apart of our testimony. Our sisterhood is truly bigger than both of us, and all our fights made our bond stronger. Every time we fight, You God reveal what we both conceal. God You use everything for your glory, because we are all your story. The same way, You God is using the decay of yesterday, that this wrong she and this he You God say is for me, choose to lose in their silent violent worldly alliance, of their detached mismatched hues.

It’s neutrally and brutally painful to spiritually see, this wrong she determination, to push through this he hesitated permeated dedication, in this quicksand two strand land. What was always designed to be a hit it and quit it flee, this wrong she positioned the temporary of her secondary, yet secretive place in this he’s space; to be an acute astute fleshly ordinary. This she findeth this he, not the biblical he who findeth she. When You God had better, wrong she said never, because it wasn’t forever with this he, You God say is for me. 

Wrong she’s entitled mind game, is a lame same shame of this he is truly being an idol. Wrong she’s muted confession is an outwardly obsession. Wrong she’s swings in these heavy forced coursed pair of rings sting. Wrong she started thinking, which You God decided to no longer let this wrong she be stronger in hiding what’s inside. This wrong she’s sinking is Your Linking to be the last black tar jar. God you are using this difficult confinement to show the no, because these two do not have Your Biblical Alignment. The under the rug tug, in the hush hush fornication, was a rush down the aisle, and will never be a celebration to You God. Thy Kingdom come, Thy Will be done. Every knee will bow, and every tongue shall confess that Jesus Christ is Lord. In Jesus name, amen.

I’m so glad, I’m not mad or sad. I used to see similarly to this wrong she. Right before I let go of Crysta 4.4.14, the best day of my life. I barely survived my own reason painful season, of being a wrong she. It was all allowed for my Kingdom Bow, so I can let go of the no, You God said was dead lead; but I chose to secretly lose and cry. I chose to secretly lose and die, for all my lies with a man that wasn’t for me. All because I thought God forgot about me. So I felt I needed to play cards, I picked and I dealt. 

Crysta couldn’t be forgotten. Crysta had to have blessings too. So Crysta did her and didn’t stop until she got what she thought she wanted. But the favor of God on my life, through my own strife from my deluded and confusing version: of best last first bite. Behind what I chose to hide, were cries and internal dies. I took a lot of hits with that man that wasn’t for me, when God saw all and used it for my greatest fall. To create this current story through the woman, I now choose to freely be: Yours.

I understand why that quicksand, was the greatest blessing of my life. It taught me that man who wasn’t for me, was my sixth jar that broke. I ended up going to the hospital my last time. I also tried killing myself that last time. That’s when Jojo became my best friend, and saving grace that You God used to bring me into your loving arms. I never looked back, in all the setbacks and attacks, that I received in my bleed that pulled out my weeds. 

I still say yes and would do it all over again, if I’m the woman I am today. I know with conviction I will never settle with any man, even with this he who God says is for me. I understand that I can have quicksand with him too, if it’s not God’s Timing. I almost did but you clocked that block so swiftly, now seeing what I see that rejection was Your Protection for me. Thank you Dad. 

As His Chosen, many of us fall into a trap we can cap, or even zap our pruning process. Delaying His Obeying will never change the path to correct math: called our destiny. If God controls satan who is limited, and goes after this world; what makes us forget that God does not control our defiance too? Our sin has an expiration date too. We must keep at the forefront of our limited minds, that sin is a miss mark in the dark, but only God can spark our barks into linked larks. Only God can precinct our sink by using our think. If God is our creator then he’s our administrator too. If God is our creator than he’s our employer too. If God is our creator then he’s our artist that strokes our paintings. 

We must always remember we are saints on many assignments. We must remember we are all better together in His Alignment not worldly confinement. We must remember that our grievance is His Achievement. My eyes are redirected, and corrected to not be tripped up by the slip ups, and hiccups of this wrong she and this he, You God say is for me. I’m no longer thinking, by looking at these two wrong hues sinking or weary winking. I choose to refuse the ruse, of these two wrong hues that are very confused. I decide to fix my eyes back on You God. I no longer decide to be misguided in their hiding, dying, or lying. I choose to float on this water with You God. So trust the process saints. God loves you so much. God is in the details. Be still to hear His Still Small Voice. I love you world, because He + he taught me too. I accept my place in the space as her in His Stir. I now want to always choose love. Love your sister Crysta.

Love your daughter. 

*names changed for privacy purposes. #TeamProPrivacy 


Dear Dad,

I’m in my feelings. Like it’s just the place, and space I found ways and delays, to replace my null and void, and my wrong seed weeds to completely avoid. You know I cannot stand, this form of transform because it no longer makes me, take my stake in wrong strong living in my solo throng. I’m sick of the lies that humans hide inside. I still see what’s to be, and you’re now stopping me from my dying glee to flee. Whatever Dad, you’re persistent and consistent push to show Your Go in Your Pending Stage, is not a gauge I want to wage. Not when my heart is so fragile. No thanks. I’ll choose to lose in the decay of yesterday. Like those two wrong hues that are not true.

Too many humans choose conclusions full of the bull in their flesh god facades, with their self made lemonade, rejecting and neglecting Your Protecting Renegade. That’s okay, I choose today with just you God, not that blue times two. That two strand wrong hue, that penetrated from the cheap thrills of no Gills, doesn’t have to be at the current standstill it is now. You don’t have to demand your command, in making these two who are not true, take a bow from their follow in their no unity night community hallow swallow. The press send in never ending pretend, can be that see you let wrong she’s suggest to You God be this wrong she’s true. Stop telling this wrong she: it’s me, it’s not you, you’re not true, or it’ll never be you. Clearly this wrong she, and this he doesn’t agree with you about me as his correct she. 

I’m too tired and wired from the flesh god facades, that will never be of you God. They’re too toxic, robotic, and chaotic. But popularity is the regularity that humans choose to lose in. Not me, I choose to be set free. I’m so glad, I walked through my talk of sad and mad, about these two wrong hues, who swim in a grim, of trim skimmed depressing distressing musical blues. The constant replay in this pain will never Have Your Gain. There’s no saxophone that will ever drown out, the truth of these two never being true, or truly not seeing being a droned clone of man; making decisions over their lives, instead of you directing their path God. There’s no saxophone that will ever drown out, that flesh was the choice and Not Your Voice. There’s no saxophone that will ever drown out, that lust was the rust that created these two wrong hues, who will never be true: just cheap lemonade. There’s no saxophone that will ever drown out, that these two wrong hues ignored you God as their Renegade.

Don’t you see, this wrong she managed to convince this son of yours, to press play in this decay of yesterday; and to never ever be in the present of Your Today. Don’t you see, this wrong she managed, to make this son of yours believe and receive the corruptive confetti, replaced the space of this son of yours agonizing empty. Don’t you see this wrong she gathered a throng, through this wrong she’s silent song, in the night no unity community they’re in now; this wrong she clung to be this he forever be to press play in decayed replayed sing; yet this will always make this wrong she sting due to the wrong hue of those wedding rings. 

Don’t you see this wrong she, had big support in her abort to be set free, so this wrong she played on the dismay, of this son of yours pale scales in the momentum of last summer’s continuum pendulum. Don’t you see this wrong she, prevailed in this son of yours pending veil to never tear. So don’t you see, this wrong she’s forced a course of a lace veil. Don’t you see, this wrong she believes you God should receive her flesh god facade? Don’t you see this wrong she, wants to keep getting away with making Your Wine kool-aid? Don’t you see this wrong she, wants to not say yes as Your Renegade. 

Don’t you see this wrong she, made this he an idol? Yet this son of yours was worried about me as an idol. What man avoids, man always walks into and gets destroyed. Man is these two as wrong hues: this he and wrong she. Both these broken chosen, had hidden fears that both are walking through their no talking now. Don’t you see this wrong she, wants to keep this he even if he is an idol? Wrong rings still sting, and will never have Your Wings God, especially if this he for this wrong she is an idol. Wrongs will never be made right according to You God. 

Don’t you see this wrong she believes she’s entitled, not in the space of idol, because this wrong she believes in tangibility, and in the life this wrong she worked hard, to tangibly have all starting in her mad land of quicksand. Don’t you see that this wrong she, truly believes the two strands in this hit it and quit it misfit, should last. Because this temporary confetti went this far, this empty should be the forever be, according to this wrong she not be her sixth jar. 

There’s only three strands in your Kingdom Band. Not one strand, and not two strands like this wrong hue, that’s currently pressing play in the decay of never today. The path to correct math, you keep showing me, who is this he’s she as me. Not the facade of flesh god wrong she and this he projects, you truly reject God. According to you God this wrong hue of these two is a facade. According to me, I’m free. I’m away from this decay, of never being better together, through their no unity night community delayed dismay. Don’t you see, this wrong she is committed to the overcompensation of no love, of never seeing Your Dove, because this wrong she truly believes, that this wrong she is entitled to this he. This wrong she does not want to receive this he is an idol. This wrong she should be the path in what You God achieve, is correct math with this he, who You God say is for me.

I’m finding it easier to believe I’m cool with these two fools, thinking their sinking is actually factually cool. Just because a night no unity community, laughed and ate at their forced silence alliance celebrate. When two or more are gathered to lather, the soap of fake dope, fake love, and fake godliness, because of the hush hush fornicate could not be the see; will never make it a permeate, but according to this wrong she: she’s home free. Don’t you see, this wrong she worked hard, sucked up years of tears, and ignored your truth, all to make her pitfall break and take, be this wrong she’s self made cheap lemonade after all those law of averages chases: man after man concentrate. This he, was the no that turned into yes, when this he was lower than low. Hook, line and sinker to prevent this he to be a godly thinker. Two years of planning and positioning, until the perfect time, to be in this son of yours mind, to have a moment as a key to play rewind in time. 

Don’t you see, this wrong she is this son of yours poisonous throng, and the wrong seed weed? Well I see, and you see God, even that false prophet saw the cause to pause, and to press delay in decay. To play up the make up of saying it’s today. To play up the make up that this wrong she is the soulmate of this son of yours. When tangibility is the faith in your heart, than man can make you believe anything is three strands; exactly what happened to this son of yours God. Because this he sees faith as a stake of tangibility.

That same son of yours who hides behind his pride, and in his lie that makes him internally die. There’s no love, in this legalized, hypnotized, and magnified hit it and quit it misfit. Just because it’s a legal legit there’s still cheap thrills, there’s still no Gills. There’s just brokenness. There’s only flesh god no confess looped trooped professed facades. Everyday is the yesterday, of never better together today. The best last first bite is now this wrong she’s bow to her knees, in all her sinful strife. In this wrong she’s hidden pleas, to make this wrong math the path to your craft God. But that’s not how you role Dad is it? If you blocked my clock to stop this click to make me have my own path? Then I have no idea why this wrong she’s delusions, are being replayed as factual conclusions. Isn’t the definition of insanity doing the same lame over, and over; and expecting a different result, even if this wrong she found a cult in this no unity night community? 

This same son of yours that you keep saying is for me, and I’m the she in your path to correct math: he + He + her, also does not agree. I battle in my agree, because of this current tangibility. I battle in my agree because I’m tired. I want this all to end. I no longer want to be stronger in pretend. I no longer want to be stronger in my flesh god facade; because my hurt has no worth. It took this mountain to take a hold of me. So please don’t let go Dad. I can’t survive without you God. I have no clue what to do or what’s next. I choose love no matter what. I say yes to whatever impossible you will part as a Red Sea to: I’m Possible. I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. Phillipians 4:13. I choose you God. I choose to rise above and fix my eyes on Your Dove no matter what, this wrong hue of two believes is true. Neither of these broken chosen, who walk in their talk flesh god facade, are still not bigger than you God. I love you Dad. I choose to see You as my Truth God. Amen. 

Love your daughter. 


Dear Dad,

2 Corinthians 12:1-10

God you just blow my mind. I can’t hear, my ears are clogged. I bought medication and they’re still clogged. That means this is a God problem. I’m so over you, God and your supernatural interruption of my life. Yes, God the same life I know you run. I’m too through. I’m in church right now, and you’re like just in this vessel right now, preaching my season. Just stop. Like my dude just stop. Like you’re just ruining my tough girl act to be completely dismantled, because me being fragile opens the hearts of those around me, I don’t care anymore. Let those hearts stay closed and discouraged. When I cared I was shunned. 

I cared last week, but you’re clearly telling me that I still care, because I’m in church right now, listening to pastor just confirm everything Jojo* and I talked about this morning after our morning prayer; and everything that I ranted to you in the shower, is coming out of this pastors mouth right now. He doesn’t know me from the fly on the wall. Yet he’s talking about everything. I’m tired, and I wanted to quit all of this. I had a plan that you’re telling me, I cannot quit this. I cannot quit this assignment. You won’t let me God. You keep blocking my self sabotage. 

That drives me up the wall. I’m so upset with you, yet you’re just THE amazing beautiful God that loves me. I’m not worthy of your grace. Stop protecting me. That’s how discouraged and broken I feel. I see that nothing will change at work. These people are broken and want to stay broken. This feels like my old church all over again. And I want to fade away, because I’ll never make a difference. You blessed me with this iron sharpening new church, but you’re still making me see, and face my hurts from my old church. I don’t want to. I just want to move on. But you have other plans God.

My notes from today’s sermon….

Limits are a Door to:


-Communion to Jesus

-Revelation to learn more on Jesus

-Direction to the path God needs me to walk

-Mission a key way to discern where God takes us

“The weaker I get. The stronger I become.”

“Limits we run from, God puts in place of His Power.” -Pastor

“You have to be so Still, the ocean moved us. We have to sometimes sink so that God catches us.” -My Best Friend.

My pastor encouraged us to write what we’re tired of and what we believe our limits are and my list is below:

I’m tired of lesson planning for a broken system

I’m tired of my hearing leaving and my clogged ears not getting better

I’m tired of my inability to run or quit this

I’m tired of my cough making me feel like I’ll lose my lungs 

I’m tired of knowing I can’t save my family 

I’m tired of knowing I can’t save the one God keeps showing me 

I’m tired of knowing I can’t do me

I’m tired of this season becoming crazier and crazier 

I’m tired of seeing what will occur, and I can’t prevent the ugly from going down 

I’m tired of my resentment for seeing so much; and not being able to do anything, because I keep being removed

I’m tired of feeling not worthy of such a high level of protection 

I’m tired of being mad I failed at leaving earth

I’m tired of my sexual assault, making me be so easily triggered by everything 

I’m tired of having talents, I have to wait to execute, because of God hardbody blocking

I’m tired of my fine tuning removing weeds, I want to keep

I’m tired of my job 

I’m tired of being me 

I’m tired of my tough girl act 

I’m tired of my positivity being abused 

I’m tired of my kindness being abused 

I’m tired of my love being abused 

I’m tired of feeling like I’m being used all the time 

I’m tired of being blocked from punching people in the face, because it’s not Christ like. So what, so what, so what. People are cruel, rising above in love isn’t working. Maybe a punch will work.

I’m tired of loving people that crap on me 

I’m tired of praying 

I’m tired of church 

I’m tired of the Bible 

I’m tired of doing the right thing 

I’m just tired

I’m not tired of loving God

I’m not tired of trusting God 

God knows I need grounding, because I’m a hot mess, without all these struggles. Humans bother me, their brokenness bothers me. I’m so ready to pounce on a mean person. I see them so vividly. I can see bull from a mile away. And I see red when a manipulator gets away with their mind games. Like ms. 17, I want to knock her off her high horse, and that god complex she has, needs to be crushed. It’s just like that idiotic false prophet that tried to break me. I want to knock his teeth out. That false prophet shouldn’t have been able to ruin church for me, but he did. 

The co-workers, who also tried to break me should have their teeth knock out too. They all failed. Man cannot break me. Not when I’m so anchored to you God. I tried to not come to church today. You would not have that God. Jojo wouldn’t have that either. I can’t believe I’m being so transparent. I’m over being polite; and you’re allowing this space that I am in to be expressed. My politeness is my control. I liked believing I can control being polite to an imbecile, that I want to punch in the face. I have severe control issues, and you’re taking them all away, one by one God.

Limits set us up through our limitations, as a platform to open the world’s hearts; so that their fragile hearts are no longer closed. I don’t like how this testimony you’re writing for me looks, through these kooky looking tests. This is all insane, and it looks so whack Dad. So whack. People are whack. I’m whack. I’m tired of whack. I’m just tired. I don’t like any of this. I do feel the least blessed, but the pastor just said that I’m the most blessed. That feels like a joke. But yet you’re walking me through my limits. God you are showing me that you’re in control of my rebellion too. Even my rebellion has limits. That’s ridiculous. I can’t disobey in peace. That’s so annoying. Why am I so set a part!? That bothers me. I’m not special. I’m not enough. That’s what I heard so many times, and saw that so many different ways in the last two years, it must be true. You’re blocking my plans to be out of my job. I’m so mad you keep botching my self sabotage. I can’t stand it God that you know me better than I know myself.

I’m pushed to be humbled, through this cough and not hearing, because of all the gifts you trust me with God. I’m not worthy why me, other people want them, okay have them other people. I just want Jesus and a mountain. This world has nothing I want. I’ve been there, done that. It’s whack. You keep showing me God, I can do a lot. It blows my mind sometimes, and I think I’m crazy and tell myself, ‘no I didn’t just figure that out.” Just like Paul had his thorn, because he was so talented, he needed that level of humility. I am by no way saying, that I’m even a slither of having the intelligence Paul had, but I am saying that I’m as sinful as Paul was. I’m definitely capable of being that destructive. I am an emotional hot head. Like that needs constant prayer. 

I get why my grandmother, when she was alive told me she was always on her knees for me. Like I so get it. I am a hot mess. I also get why my aunts tell me all the time why they pray for me. No I didn’t do what Paul did, but I’m always wanting to punch someone in the face. I always want to knock someone’s teeth out. But you’re teaching me God, through my limits that you’re turning these passionate emotions, into your glory because I’m your story. Thank you for your faith me God. I don’t have the faith in me the way you do. Thank you for my limits. They show me how strong you are, because I could never do any of this without you. I am weak and you are my strength. I love you so much God. Amen.

Love your daughter

*names changed for privacy purposes. #TeamProPrivacy 


This he is my mountain.

I don’t want this mountain to be moved by a mustard seed of faith.

This he is my mountain.

The mountain that crushed my faith.

This he ignored what’s at stake. 

The mountain that bruised my love.

This he ignored His Dove.

The mountain that spat in his ugly hat at you God.

This he that chose his flesh god facade.

The mountain that turned a hit it and quit it to a legal legit.

This he that’s in a yesterday not today stance in his misfit dance.

The mountain that’s in a counterfeit transit, because he’s a selfish bandit.

This he that’s caged in a man made stage, just full of rage.

The mountain that created his flesh god facade that he walks his talk in now.

The mountain that keeps running in his drumming of never taking a bow.

The mountain that allows the hallow swallow to be his poisonous choice. 

The mountain that won’t press play in today to hear His Voice.

This he that won’t flee in the decay of yesterday.

This he is my mountain.

This he is not a fountain of youth.

This he is just a broken boy that abused truth.

This he is just a broken boy that played refuse and ruse Your Proof.

This he is my mountain.

I don’t want this mountain to be moved by a mistress seed of faith. 

I don’t want my heart to no longer be at stake.

All this he does is break and take.

All this he does is passively aggressively leave pale scales of failed hearts and a lot of ache.

This he is just a broken boy that rants in his pants.

This he is just a broken boy toy that makes fun of biblical ants.

Because of their size. 

This mountain thinks that’s a way to play hypnotize. 

Ants store and prepare.

Ants are very aware.

This he is just a broken boy walking through fogged unaware.

I am the she that is just a broken girl talking through clogged ears.

I am the she that is just a broken girl crying from hidden tears.

I am the she that is just a broken girl lying through my fears.

I am the she that’s a broken girl that doesn’t want to see I can no longer be in this sea.

I am the she that’s  a broken girl that cannot breathe.

I am the she that’s just a broken girl that cannot believe.

I am the she that is just a broken girl that doesn’t want to achieve.

I am the she that’s just a broken girl that wants to keep hiding what’s inside.

This he is my mountain. 

God you keep showing me it’s time to grow and be set free.

God you keep showing me he + He + her is Your Stir.

God I want a new he.

God a new he would see me.

I am the she that cannot believe that this mountain is a part of my path to correct math.

After all that went down in this frown crowned pitfall.

I am the she that is just a broken girl with so much rage.

I am the she that is just a broken girl that feels stuck in a cage.

I am the she that is just a broken girl that never wants to step on a stage.

Ever again.

I am the she that is just a broken girl that wants to play delay in pretend.

I am the she that is just a broken girl that wants to fade in a daze.

I am the she that is just a broken girl that feels crazed.

I am the she that is just a broken girl that moved with time but choose to press play in the stress of rewind in my mind.

I am the she that is just a broken girl that tries to replace the space of dying and empty with lying confetti.

I am the she that is just a broken girl that sees her King heals her stings. 

I am the she that is just a broken girl that needs her ready ring to stay on His Wing because that pain has gain.

I am the she that is just a broken girl that only believes in this He. 

I am the she that is just a broken girl that doesn’t want to receive the other he, in my equation. 

I am the she that’s scared of this he’s abilities over me.

I am the she that sees from this he and who he chooses to be, makes me want to flee in hesitation. 

I am the she that sees this he doesn’t want me. 

So let him be. 

It’s okay, today I say, the Obey in just You and Me. 

That’s my math.

That’s my path.

This is all according to me as she.

God will never be a facade.

He’s the He I freely believe.

God will never be cheap lemonade.

He’s the He I freely receive.

God will always be my fighting Renegade.

He’s the He I freely achieve.

God will always make me believe.

God will never hurt this she who is me. 

This he made the voice of man, lead his bleed in his wrong seed weed choice.

This he made man bigger than God.

This he pressed play in decaying fading lust.

This he is silently, and violently pouting in his sometimes shouting.

This he sees his now makes him want to take a bow.

This he hides behind his pride.

This he legalized a cheap thrill, and snuffed out His Breathing Gills.

This he deleted free, and played flee from God to choose the lose in this chaotic and robotic facade. 

This he deeply hurt me as this she who is me.

This he didn’t see my worth, and decided to lie, which made me as she who is me cry and die.

This he should not have what he didn’t want: my heart. 

This he is my mountain that doesn’t want the worth of she who is me. 

This he made me see he wanted to flee, when he stressed what he confessed to me.

So then let this he be, in his mess with muted diluted protests.

Because this he sees his legalized misfit is no longer stronger as a hit it and quit it.

So then let this he be crying out for help, and no one listens.

This he keeps being whimsical glisten to man, especially to his wrong she.

This he chooses to lose in a night no unity community. 

This he has a hard time with humility.

No one sees what this he needs except, who wanted to love and protect him.

This he decided to neglect, and reject me as his she. 

This he decided to neglect, and reject He to be grim, slim, and trim. 

No one sees this he needs to stop the bleed and Be Still. 

No one sees this he needs someone to throw him His Gills.

So the let this he believe the lies that make me cry and die on the inside.

According to me who is she, he doesn’t want me.

I am the she that is just a broken girl that’s tired, and wired from the sleep I avoid, so God and I can’t meet. 

I am the she that is just a broken girl, tired and wired from hearing this he is coming to me.

I am the she that’s just a broken girl that’s tried of stillness. 

I am the she that’s just a broken girl that doesn’t want to let go of my fear to fully love and forgive this he who belongs to me, no matter what I see. According to God.

According to me who is she, that’s a flesh god facade. 

According to me who is she, that’s a flesh god mirage. 

According to God, it’s year three and it’s still me who is she.

According to God, He makes all things new, so it’s going to be blue times two. 

According to God, this he’s neglect in his reject to she was God’s Protect for me.

I am the she that still sees the need to be set free from this he.

I am the see that still accepts this he’s neglect to protect me, because of the pause in his cause with his reject of me as she. 

This he started his fabels to choose man’s labels in the month of April. 

2015 was the year my fears started mr. mean, lean, glean featuring a very tired and wired ms. 17.

I am the she that decided to set myself free, after the April showers caused me to fall into this current pitfall. 

I am the she that sees this he doesn’t want my all. 

I am the she that’s also not God.

Neither is this he.

I am the she that’s no longer stronger in my facade.

Neither is this he.

I am the she that has to be still.

So does this he.

I am the she that no matter what I choose His Gills.

Eventually, so will this he.

I am the she that never wants any cheap thrills like this he willed as his forever be.

Eventually, this he will no longer flee from me as his she. 

I am the she that no matter what, fights to choose to lose in His See.

Eventually, so will this he.

I am the she that no matter what, I will never stop choosing God above all.

This he will learn to earn this space, will never replace the confetti of his empty.

Only God can set this he free, not his current wrong she and not his night no unity community.

I am the she that no matter what I say yes in my deep distress of this unknown pitfall. 

Eventually, this he will give his all to His Call.

I am the she that no matter what I choose God over any self-made facade.

I am the she that sees I’m a saint on many assignments. 

I am the she that believes I’m truly in His Alignment.

I am the she that received that I’m no longer in solitary confinement. 

I am the she that deeply loves He.

Eventually, so will this he will truly see and be set free.

Aimez vos côtes bleu.


wrong she cannot see

this he will flee

wrong she cannot buy

how wrong she’s cries

how wrong she’s lies 

how wrong she’s dies

does not break 

does not make 

does not undo 

what God is saying 

despite wrong she’s delaying 

despite wrong she’s dismaying 

despite wrong she’s decaying 

this he will flee

this he now sees

this he wants 

to be set free

this he no longer 

fights in flesh god stronger 

nights in flesh god facade

aren’t better than God

this he wants out 

despite wrong she’s pout 

despite wrong she’s shouts 

this he loves the sea

this he loves to be free

this he wants and loves He

wrong she doesn’t give him Me

Me is God 

this he rejects facade 

wrong she is paper pedigree 

wrong she believes that paper 

is bigger than His Maker

wrong she believed 

in pedigree 

wrong she achieved 

this he received 

wrong she’s theosophy 

wrong she is just temporary 

wrong she will 

always be tranquil 

wrong she will 

never be stronger

or longer than His Gills

wrong she cannot control 

this he’s patrol

to Be Still

wrong she is fighting

in wrong she’s lying 

focused on the worldly locus 

to make this he forget 

and neglect His Redirect 

wrong she cannot control 

this he’s patrol 

to Be Set Free

wrong she cannot control 

God’s Patrol 

to show this he 

it’s time to go

wrong she cannot control 

God’s Patrol 

to show this he

the path to correct math 

he + He + her 

is only God’s Craft

is only God’s Stir 

two strands 

are always bland

and will never be 

the see to better together 

all commonalities between these two 

are chemically fading and delaying 

these two hues aren’t true 

there’s no prosperity 

there’s only barbarity 

there’s only stagnancy 

wrong she believed 

in pedigree 

wrong she achieved 

this he received 

wrong she’s theosophy 

wrong she is just temporary 

wrong she’s legal stance 

is not even a brutal romance 

is not even her last chance 

is not even her last dance 

wrong she cannot sleep perchance 

wrong she is in too deep

wrong she cannot count sheep

wrong she cannot make 

this he see and stay 

this he is done with disobey 

this he is done with delay

this he is done with yesterday 

wrong she is not a mystery 

wrong she is this he’s 

pending history 

her pedigree 

is not the key 

drifting apart 

wrong she’s still not 

this he’s heart 

her pedigree 

didn’t stop this he to flee 

this he’s choice 

will always lead him to His Voice 

it doesn’t matter what

wrong she does 

wrong she is a rebel without a cause 

wrong she’s hurt has no worth 

wrong she’s pain has no gain

wrong she needs He 

wrong she needs to be set free 

wrong she needs to see 

wrong she is not the key 

with her worldly pedigree 

Only His Ray

brings the joy of Today

Only His Way

brings the light of Today

Only His Obey

replaces the space of empty

never together in temporary confetti 

rust fades even in delay

lust is rust 

never God’s 

dust to dust 

lust is a flesh god facade

there’s deliverance 

in this hinderance 

called surrender 

this he will press end

in this wrong she pretend 

aimez vos côtes bleu

Poet’s Note: The Holy Spirit has me praying aggressively lately for God’s lost. This election has shocked many, but not me. The elected president is a billionaire, and a sales man that plays the game of the audience that buys his products. America is angry, and the president elect played up the anger of this country. That’s why this president elect won. No one should be surprised, if we all choose stillness and discern. Anger is a secondary emotion to pain, to a broken heart. People are hurting in this country. And people are tired of hurting, so people choke on the provoke of anger. The president elect saw that, and capitalized. The president elect is not bigger than God. I have been deeply effected by this election, because I don’t understand why can’t this world see; that love is better than anger or even hate? It truly breaks my heart. 

God has been trying to show me, as I was trying to reject that ungodliness is at an all time high. It’s deliberate who won, God is still in control. I didn’t agree with God but I’m not God. I’m his daughter that fights for obedience, in a very dark troubling world. I’m tired of choosing the road less travel, but I’ll never be tired of loving or trusting God. Everything is hard now. Everything, but loving God is effortless, fellowship with my King always makes me sing. God wakes me up everyday early in the morning, and we just hang out. He’ll always be my compass home. He’ll always be my heavenly dome no matter what. 

I woke up prompted to write this poem. God reveals a lot to me all the time. I always discern on how or what God needs me to express; because I’m a woman that stands strongly on order and God’s Timing. God is always on time. With that said, God reveals what goes on with his chosen, whether I know them or not. My poetry is always based on his people. 

I pray Lord, these children you pressed on my heart, pause and choose your cause. Your love is the only way, to be set free from bondages and chains. Oh Lord, I pray that your children you pressed on my heart, understands that you are the only way. You God are the only truth, you God are the only definition to true love. To true happiness, to true peace. I walk on water like your vessel Peter, and I choose to believe these children of yours will be set free, the way you set me free. Thank you God. In Jesus name, amen. I love you world, because He taught me too, and because I want to now. Love Crysta. 


Dear Dad,

Delaying my obeying through this dismay, in the popular decay around me, moves the ground and makes me want to flee. I’m over and under, in this drowning plunder, of cheap self made lemonade. Those call your chosen, allow in their hallow swallow, avoidance to their bow. Worldly confinement is in the space of the place to His Alignment. I’m tired, and wired because sleep is deep, and I avoid counting sheep where God and I meet. There’s a heavy lead of dread, from my residue of what’s simply not true. Corruptive confetti will never replace the space of empty. A hit it and quit it will never be made legit, through the protest of no confess and the distress of a last dance becoming a legal stance. There’s no tomorrow in the choice in the voice of sorrow. False prophets made it hobbit to peel the reel to never feel. Wrong rings will always sting because God said no in the go of man. This will never be a biblical stand. 

I am really tired God. This wilderness is so real. There’s no breaks in what you’re constantly showing me is at great stake. That’s okay, I choose your Obey, but your wrestle with me, prevents me to flee from what I don’t want to see. This is career five or six, you’re removing my groove to move on, and create a new song. You’re retuning my pruning, to no longer be stronger in my redirect to neglect your fine tuning. In my gauge I usually turn the page, and quickly disengage. To my dismay, I can’t delay or turn from this stage. You reject my rage. I must face what makes me feel disgraced. My salute can no longer be mute. I must express my defense and what greatly makes me stressed. 

My obsession in my lack of confession is being dismantled by you God. My flesh god facade can no longer be my mirage of self sabotage. You God let me live, for a very long time, in my sorrow to avoid tomorrow. Today is the way, to face my dismay, and no longer be stronger in disobey. It’s not okay to call out the fall outs of my screams, shouts, and hidden pouts through me, that I sometimes see. It’s not okay to be in dismay, to those that choose night community in no real love unity. Especially when, you’ve ruined my running zen God, and my ability to press play in pretend. 

This is the hardest season I’ve ever professionally had to walk. Not because I’m an apprentice reacher through my current assignment as teacher, but because all the issues I’ve avoided in past careers, are coming out full throttle in this current painful season. There’s so much going on that’s case sensitive where you’ve changed my ability in transparency, to stay in my desire to be biblically aligned to order. Thank you for my growth in writing God. Sometimes I can figure out where you’re leading us through words, and other times like now, I just walk through the unknown knowing you go before me. Like your three vessels in Daniel 3. That’s one of my favorite references of biblical faith. I feel very closely to that journey now. I feel like I’m walking through a scorching fire from all angles and three people are here: me, Jojo and you God. You keep covering us in the madness of our lives.

I’ve been in and out of having a head cold for about two months now. I’m struggling. It’s really hard. I have no insurance, because I have no time to actually fill that stuff out. I had to wait until November to come, now it’s here but my health is just not something that’s a priority to me. I’m not a priority to me. It’s kind of hard making me important, because I’ve been effected by so much that went down in the last two years of my life. That this recent pain, triggers pains from my past. I just want to keep moving, and leave New York completely. 

I’m over everything. I’m over the politics at my job. I’m over the politics of church, which I learned about from my old church. I’ve been deeply affected by my experience of my old church, that I’m so traumatized to serve at my new church. Acts of service is a strong love language for me. I love showing people how much I love to love by serving. But I don’t want the insanity of my schedule to clear, because then I’ll no longer have the legitimate excuse to not have time to serve. I no longer want to serve because of my old church. It’s sad that I like no one knows me at my new church. It’s even sadder I’m so happy to no longer be at my old church, because I will never see some of them ever again. With the exception of the few gems that showed me love. I’ll be okay with never ever seeing a lot of them ever again. 

I went to an event last weekend, where I encountered a lot of people from my old church. Seeing the rare gems that showed me love was nice, but I was very concerned with seeing those that weren’t so nice. Thank GOD it was just a wonderful worship experience for me. Thank GOD that in my mind it was a lot worse than it actually was. Going to this event brought me great anxiety. I was so stressed out about it. And not being a hundred percent doesn’t do any good to my health. 

I have this cough that deeply stresses out my dad and Jojo* to the point they’re on my case and it annoys me. They are both getting on my nerves, like why can’t they just ignore I’m sick like I try to? I don’t get it. But then I have to remember, that not everyone deflects like I do. And I have to remember people love me. I have to remember despite everything people care about me. I’m so happy that the event last week, was all about Jesus and worship for me. I love Jesus and I love worship. I love singing. I miss singing sometimes. 

I used to be apart of a music honor society as a child in my community, where I played the congas and xylophone. I also sang in this community. I got invited to play, and perform in Paris when I was 13 years old. My mom is super paranoid. At first my dad was on board with me going to Paris, but then my mom convinced my dad I’d be kidnapped, and sold into slavery so my dad didn’t allow me to go. I stopped talking to my mom the whole summer, because I was convinced she ruined my life. I’m alignment to God now. I realized I was being protected, from the unknown confinements of the world. My mom was protecting me. My mom is one of my protectors.

When I was a part of this music community, It was the best traveling all over with my band that was my family to just be free in music. It was the absolute best. But the meanness of this world, and getting hurt by pockets of so many moments in life, made me pull out from singing and playing instruments. I was done. I put down a lot of my abilities, because of discouragement. The brokenness of this planet to just break a human, and take without letting up is real. That’s why I don’t trust easily. That’s why it’s hard for me to forgive and forget. Because I refuse to feed the weed of ruse, and let any human think they can make me sink ever again. I’m upward falling in the wings of my King who makes my soul sing. 

That’s one of the many reasons why I left my old church, and why I want to leave my current job. I just want to move to an isolated mountain in the middle of nowhere, and be around no one except for God and Jojo* people break, and take like leeches with their poisonous speeches. I’m tired. I’m just tired of the nonsense of politics, being in all facets of my life, that I don’t want to be touched: work and church. My church hurt is real. There’s so much concealed, and not revealed. I’m a woman of peace, and I’m a woman of order. There’s a serious level of delicacy that is tied to my alignment to God, and all that I walked through from the flesh god facades of so many mirages. There’s a lot going on that I must express in a godly manner. Because I’m a daughter to the Highest King. I’m a woman of God.

This election has deeply affected me. It has brought so much emotions that I’ve buried to the surface. My life forever changed the night of my 19th year of life, where I was sexually assaulted. I’m tired of being easily triggered by a moment of time that’s far gone from my everyday life. A century changed and there are moments where that night feels like yesterday. To me it shouldn’t be. I shouldn’t still be having nightmares, and panic attacks over something that happened to me 14 years ago. That’s ridiculous to me. Jojo shouldn’t of witnessed a panic attack, because this election triggered so much that’s tied to that night of my life. Before Jojo seeing that panic attack, I was able to hide them from everyone around me. The blog posts I wrote at my new church, was me working through mild panic attacks. 

I have mild panic attacks and severe ones, like the one Jojo witnessed this past Wednesday was severe. The severe ones I cannot breathe. God entered her, and she coached me to breathe, and walk through my panic attacks. We were late to class because of it. I told my professor, which shocked me and she said it’s okay she understands. I don’t talk about a lot that I hide on the inside. I don’t like that Jojo saw that. I don’t like that I’ve been fighting to regain a control, I believe was stolen from me that night when I was 19. I don’t like that God is making me face all that I see as a disgrace. God is showing me this is all a part of my pace in His Race. I don’t like that all that I thought will never be revealed will stay forever concealed. To my dismay God is no longer allowing me to believe that lie because it makes me die inside. 

This wasn’t a part of God’s plan: me dying from lying. I’m not always okay when I say. I need to take a stand, in His Land and trust that God will always be My Band. God keeps surrounding me with gems, and people I can be free around. God keeps blessing me with iron sharpeners like Jojo, as my best friend. A God fearing best friend I’ve been praying to have for years, even before I meet her. My bubbly confetti never ever replaced my space of lonely empty. Through all these years, I just got better at hiding my tears and fears. 

I became a dame in hiding my shame that makes me feel lame. Thank GOD this facade is no longer a self made lemonade mirage. There’s deliverance in my hinderance called surrender. I no longer choose worldly confine in my silence, because it’s not a godly alliance. I choose to free-fall in my pitfall. I choose to sing through my stings, and swings of the conundrum of my pendulum. My stigmas are no longer enigmas. Thank you God for being my anchor. I love you so much world, because He taught me too. Don’t lose heart saints. Remain steadfast. Remain unmoved: Psalm 46. Thy rod and thy staff comforts. Psalm 23. Love Crysta.

Love your daughter,

*names changed for privacy reasons. #TeamProPrivacy