all she sees is God.

she moves out of God’s way

for God to remove what’s not made to stay.

she allows the bow 

from the fouls of her hallow swallows.

she allows the scandals 

of her channels to be dismantled.

she allows the clock to stop.

she allows God to cancel her facades.

these are ruses that feed fused abuses.

there’s many reasons in this trying season.

her heart isn’t right and full of strife.

she sees plight in His Sight.

He sees the Light of Jesus Christ.

He sees reprieve to believe.

He sees deliverance in forgiveness.

she sees toxicity and rejects this prospect.

she struggles and crumbles in fumbles 

of her specifics in prefixes. He wants her to let go.

but if she lets go then she won’t know:

what happens next?

what was the purpose of Saturday’s encounter?

that encounter doesn’t fit her ideologies 

that she will never see that he again.

she sees he’s a lion’s den that doesn’t want more.

so she let go of that being God’s Glory 

in her story, because she desires to go Higher in God.

that he has been so scary and a liar

that created an unhealthy space of hidden disgrace.

that he has a mutant community

that falls in line to his slimed life of no light.

she just wants to see what God needs,

but she doesn’t want that he because he’s scary.

she doesn’t want his lies or fiscal lullabies.

she doesn’t want his harmful flirtatious charm.

she doesn’t want the demise of his wandering eyes.

she doesn’t want the half-assed commitment.

she doesn’t want the half-assed attempts.

she doesn’t want his up and down sounds.

she doesn’t want his confusion delusions.

she doesn’t want his immaturity.

she doesn’t want his excuses: they’re useless.

she doesn’t want his mind-games: they’re lame.

she doesn’t want his empty words of dirt.

she doesn’t want his cheap creeping cheats.

she doesn’t see the hype of this man:

he’s nothing but painful quicksand.

she stopped pretending being okay with God’s Stir.

this he + He + her shouldn’t occur, it’s a choking joke.

this he is a bloke that’s selfish and inconsiderate.

this he is heartless and focused on what’s best for him.

this he doesn’t care about who gets hurt.

this he has a billion dollar reasons for his treasons.

this he only cares about tangibility and what’s the scene.

this he only cares about ugly popularity.

this he doesn’t desire Higher in God’s Purpose.

she doesn’t want this he to come near her ever.

her King that makes her soul sing 

won’t guarantee that he isn’t staying away.

there’s nothing but messy decay’s and delays. 

his way is his highway of puppet strings and stings.

foolishness is the ready rings his way not God’s.

lukewarm is his storm and his only conform.

she’s not interested in his deliverance.

she’s not interested in seeing he’s changing.

she saw enough and gave up.

she made a switch 14102017.

she boxed him and his nonsense. 

the switch should be the only see.

she wants to move on and be uplifted

without this he being apart of her story.

the actions that he showed is his permanent go,

and that’s the flow she will forever go with.

she will continue to reject his nonsense.

there’s no deliverance in this he’s messiness.

actions speak louder than words.

this he’s actions are not of God.

confusion is not of God.

wandering eyes is not of God.

lying is not of God.

money being the workaholic hideout 

is a cowardly cop-out and not of God.

she sees he’s not of God.

she wants only God.

it’s hard to believe what God sees.

she doesn’t want anything to do with this he.

he’s illogical, messy, and can’t be trusted.

he can’t cover or protect her who is me.

this he never covered or protected anybody.

this he thinks blood family is all that matters.

when blood family could be the most dangerous.

the Bible teaches believing souls Jesus came to separate:

mother and daughter, 

father and son,

brother and sister.

God tells us who’s family not the world.

this he has worldly views and ideologies.

this he doesn’t love biblically. 

this he only cares about his money.

she only trusts God not that he,

because he’s grim, slim, and a liar.

she’s in the wings of God. 

he’s in the stings of his facades playing god.

to her she sees the two shall never meet.

she sees he’s nothing but defeat, 

and she will never let him lose her peace.

he’s not worth the risk or the leap of faith in. 

that’s what she sees and believes.

his actions hasn’t changed in four years.

there’s trails of tears and secrets he keeps.

he’ll never change and continue to arrange

tear-stained pain with no godly gain;

and insane hurt with no worth all in vain. 

she was spared by walking away from that decay.

she wants to see a different story than this he.

this he is incapable of being apart of His Glory.

she’ll never stop seeing mind-games and lies.

that’s all this he has displayed as his broken lullaby. 

she sees and pays attention to what’s not said.

she sees and pays attention to what’s not done.

she pays attention to consistency. she sees that’s key.

money will always be this he’s funny honey.

money is all this he counts on and trusts.

money is temporary and empty combust of distrust.

money will never fix his heart.

money will always keep an unsafe space

between him and God. money is empty confetti.

money will never buy love of real God-friends.

money will never fill the void in his heart.

this he works all the time in vain.

there’s still pain in his hiding shame.

that’s his problem. she sees she’s free.

she’s moved on from this he’s stagnancy. 

it’s a blessing he’s scary. she stays clear away.

God backs her up on keeping her away from him.

she sees she can only count on God not humans

in the intrusions of delusional solutions. 

she sees things are healthier with her parents.

she sees things are slowly coming together.

she sees her life is starting to get on track 

from all the back to back setbacks 

in this heartbreaking soundtrack.

she’s thankful for everything,

because she sees she’s where 

God needs her to be faithfully.

she sees everything differently. 

this he wants lies that make him die. Okay.

this he wants his messiness of loneliness. Okay.

that’s not her see or her belief in that carnal grief.

she wants Higher as His Lighter.

this he’s empty flesh is brokenness, and 

has nothing to do with her supernatural deliverance.

they’re from two different perspectives and worlds.

she finally wants nothing to do with this he.

she sees this is the best space to be.

she sees she’s at ease with all of this.

 Love she.



Dearest Abba,

Oh how I love you. How I love to love you. You are the embodiment of love. Because you are love. Everything about love is beautiful, especially the trials; they are used to edify how great, and big you are. True love only exists, when you are at the center. When you put, your Holy Spirit stamp of approval.

There is nothing that you can’t overturn.

There is no life you don’t protect.

We are all your chosen ones.

Abba, I love you so much. I can’t stop saying that, or feeling my increasing openness to love you boldly. To love you supernaturally, and fearlessly.

I’m no longer afraid of this side of my heart coming to the surface.

I’m no longer afraid of seeing everything and anything you show me anymore constant one.

It’s not an accident, I watched Hallmark Movie channel all day yesterday; and that completely mirrored, or triggered emotions that I feel walking in this season. Watching one movie, triggered a desire, I didn’t realize I longed for, and it was an eye opener.

I want and need love declared to me the way that female character did with her true love. She corrected her error of not realizing he was always the one by speaking a language he understood. That melted my heart.

It’s probably not an accident, that she realized, the right guy was the one at the midnight hour. As she was scheduled to leave the country permanently, with the wrong man, which she was in a relationship with.

It’s also probably not an accident, that this wrong relationship and guy turned her into an unrecognizable human. She stopped being herself. Where she started chasing money. In this path called life, that belongs to Jesus Christ. Money is a god that we can’t afford to be fogged by.

Biblically there’s one master: God or other. If God doesn’t ordain your wealth, or he’s not in the center of that pursuit, then you’re serving the wrong master. And it’s suffocating your Holy Spirit. That’s worse than being unsaved. Knowing what you’re doing is wrong, and still doing it. It’s worse than being lukewarm.

That movie triggered a deep desire, that I wasn’t aware consumed me. In fact all the mushy love movies, that I watched yesterday, triggered deep desires. And all these movies had the same recurring theme: true love always wins no matter what. It doesn’t matter, how impossible the situation looks like, moments like that you bask in constant one. You are walking me through an insanely looking season that doesn’t mirror what you have been telling me for the past two plus years.

The man you said I’m promised to is completely isolated from the body. He is completely running from you, and hiding in the wrong he’s clinging to. He’s completely going through the motions doing everything in his power to numb and disconnect; from the self created vomit he doesn’t want to walk away from.

Yes, it hurts he’s still choosing this wrong decision, but what devastates me more is his dullness. It breaks my heart the most that his vertical is horizontal. His radical is clinging to his fleshly desires. It hurts so intenselythat he’s not radically serving for your kingdom, the way you birthed him to be. Or walking in his true purpose.

That is far more impossible to bear witness to, than my heart being hurt about his current choice in his personal life. A proverbs 31 wife, pushes her husband vertical. As a rib it’s our sole duty to protect the heart of our husband, and only your covering can do that Abba. Not anything on this planet or anything we chase here: just you.

That is not transpiring for the man you promised me. I don’t want to call him by the protected identity name that I created for him anymore Abba. You, him and I know his real name. That protective task went kerflooey, because it doesn’t work anymore.

This separation doesn’t work anymore, walking through this seemingly impossible season isn’t working anymore. He’s suffering, I’m suffering, and your will through our pending union is suffering. It’s time that we are one. A cord with three strings, is unbreakable so it’s time to make us one: You, him, and I.

I know you can walk me through anything. I can survive any devastating fire unaffected, and not torched because of the sanctified bubble that you have protecting me. It is the faithful fact you cling my right hand, so tightly that makes me your fearless, brave, and bold daughter I am today.

As terrifying as this turbulence feels, looks, or sounds like: I still have my peace. I never stopped floating on the water even during my slippery fumbles of my horizontal glances. I always regrouped, and completed my first downs, or field goals as my comeback. It doesn’t matter, what the aggressive winds, throw my way. I am still, because you are God.

You use storms of the impossible, to magnify your Perfect Name. Storms of insanity, according to the humanistic mind, are specifically designed to illuminate your kingdom. Impossible, is your special ingredient. You always win, regardless what we as your children attempt. No matter what mess we create, or how big we create it; you are bigger than our fleshy stubbornness.

Like the son that is promised to me, and his determination to cling to what he knows, no matter how miserable he is, isn’t bigger than you.

His fear of the unknown… Not bigger than you.

His terrible exercise to buffet obeying you… Not bigger than you.

His deluded belief where he thinks he’s in control… Not bigger than you.

You see all. You use everything for your glory; including his free will choice to run straight into the wrong arms.

It doesn’t matter what he publicly attempts to project you always reveal the truth to me Constant One. He’s not fooling anyone not her, not those around him, nor me. He’s not even fooling himself. The truth is, he doesn’t belong where he is. And he knows that God. Ignoring the truth will never change that, you can ignore piercing conviction for so long. I should know. I used to be in these shoes. The residue is so fresh on my tongue. I can still taste the poison.

The walls are closing in for him, yet he’s not taking the way out you have shown him. As a daughter to you Highest One it’s unbearable to witness this unnecessary reality.

Thank you, for trusting me with the revelations that you trust me with.

Thank you for training me to fight for your will in bold fearless prayer.

Thank you, for the S on my chest, and the armor needed for this war so that this error, of a season your son, and my future husband is in can go kerflooey.

Make it impossible for the fact to be ignored: it is done. You’ve said and shown these words multiple times. This is the sixth dip in the Jordan River for him; and the sixth man, before facing Jesus for her. The bolder you push me the clearer I see this supernatural fact.

Thank you, for making me fearful to ever rest, and trust the horizontal ever again.

Thank you, for making me unashamed, and setting me free.

Thank you, for your patience in me, to own my instinctive belief of the supernatural.

Thank you, for making my practical, logical, and horizontal instincts go kerflooey.

There is no room for that trajectory for where you are taking me; and how you are preparing to use me.

You blessed me with gifts, you are still teaching me how to edify your kingdom.

You always knew, I would get to this space. I did not.

Thank you, for graciously loving me through this unraveling season.

Thank you, for removing every residue area, of the broken girl I cling to throughout my teens, twenties, and now.

I did it, so your other children don’t have to. You have created a blueprint through my writing as a map for your struggling children; like the man you promised me, and so many others. I proudly say yes to being your vessel. I proudly say yes to drawing the dots so vividly.

Thank you, for transforming the fearful, closed off isolator that hid in a cloak of invisibility: into the proverbs 31 woman, I am today.

Thank you, for shifting my eyes exactly, where you need them: fixed on you to execute the tasks you command. I’m here Abba. You say jump, I say how high, and how many times.

I’m ceasing without praying.

I’m your proverbs 31 daughter.

You make ways for me, because I’m in constant conversation with you. You are already making a way regarding this humbling burden that’s a piercing surge through my heart. It’s not just an ache on my heart to be with this man that you placed in my heart; it’s about her walking in her true identity: daughter to the Highest King. Daughters to the Highest King, do not settle they don’t take just any treatment, or any behavior from anyone.

I comprehend fully why you placed the burden in my heart to pray for her. To love on her from afar, because no one is lifting her up to you outside of blood. You knew I’d see with clarity, that I don’t hate her, and I never hated her. How could I? I used to be her. I used to chase validation in a man, and convinced myself every single time it was going to work. I too, ignored your promptings, and your ways out.

I chose to ignore all of that, and swim in my own self made vomit. Until you used Anderson* as my last draw. I knew it wasn’t Anderson from day one. The empty misery, I chose to live in, with Anderson went kerflooey. You removed him, at the midnight hour, from my life. You had to because I kept ignoring your way out.

So you broke me, to build me exactly as my devotional said yesterday, and the same recurring theme in all my bible studying. I wouldn’t be the radical daughter, that I am today without you breaking me the way you did. Thank you for that gift constant one.

You wrestled with me, and won through this insane season that I see as a holography. Because, I was so convinced the son you promised to me was flesh. I’ve been down that road with Anderson, and Edward;* and I had no interest in me repeating drinking poison. It’s worse than death. I’m so grateful you intervened in my foolish attempt to take my own life. I didn’t create myself; you created me.

Thank you, for lovingly and patiently walking me through the process of forgiving myself.

Thank you, for waiting in faith that I would get to this space of forgiveness and acceptance of everything.

My actions of my past, and present. The wrong decisions that I made that weren’t aligned for your purpose on my life. All of these moments are now being used to edify your Great Name. The broken daughter that I used to be went kerflooey.

I own the proverbs 31 skin you are chiseling me to be for your kingdom, and for my future husband. The same future husband, you showed me in October of 2013. You never corrected my understanding all this time, despite my cries of petition to remove him. You consistently keep showing me it’s him, so it’s him.

You told me during power hour of last year’s retreat that this wrong season he’s walking in, without me will go kerflooey.

You also told me I know my husband by his name, and she is my sister in Christ.

For the longest I counted down until this information you told me God became a reality. The more time passed, the more my eyes saw an atomic kaboom. The complete opposite, of what you informed me. That shook my faith, and hope. My ridiculous faith, in my pending love story with this son of yours, went kerflooey.

I did everything in my power to remove, what I clearly thought was a misunderstanding, despite the consistency being channeled, it’s him. And also, through the word, and through Naomi*, Jojo*, and Daniel.* It did not work, because it wasn’t supposed to. Our faith only increases when it’s greatly tested. It doesn’t get more massive then this current season.

You are purposely allowing this season to be as far as it is, because it is designed to show all three of us, how big you are. This season, is also created to showcase only you are in control.

Not him. Not her. And not me.

You are using all three, of our discomforts and determination to snuff out what’s pending: this wrong season will go kerflooey. This season is a tool to edify your name, Constant One. When all is said and done both of them will be radical vessels. Thank God.

You have revealed to me they are both unhinged, as I was when I was with Anderson. The last twenty minutes of my wrong season, with Anderson lasted too long: two years. But you glorified your name, by making it the last wrong season that I would ever walk through, with a man. Anderson was my “sixth man,” before seeing, and falling truly in love with Jesus.

This is a crystal clear blueprint, designed for the children you called me to be an example for. It’s not just for my future husband. He’s only the beginning. Without experiencing Anderson, I would never be the radical lighter, who unravels not wraps bandages, that I am today, because that terrible storm needed to occur.

Because I know with conviction after my “sixth failure,” Jesus is the only man who can ever satisfy my heart and who truly validates me: because he’s the greatest man I know. There’s no one greater to chase or cling to.

Thank you, for trusting me to illuminate the darkness as your lighter.

Thank you, for trusting me to spark the necessary areas of your community that desperately need revival.

I say yes, to being your compass.

I love loving you. I love loving your people. It no longer matters, if I’m loved back; because you’ve proven how much you love me God. You let your perfect son die for messed up me. Flawed, bratty, fearful, insecure, obnoxious me; there isn’t enough words to describe what a hot mess I am. But God, then you spent the last two plus years: transforming me into, the fearless, bold, and brave daughter.

I will never stay silent again.

I will always absurdly follow your command.

I will always submit to your will for my life.

Keep speaking to me Abba, in every area. I’ll keep saying yes, and I’ll keep going to war for you in prayer. I’ll keep my armor in place in every facet you deem fit to use me.

I heard yesterday that it’s foolish to wait for passion to knock you in the chest. Then call me a fool. I’m waiting for that passionate true love to knock me everywhere in my chest, and off my feet. I’ll never settle again. You’ve already shown me true love, through Jesus. My first real love. So I’ll wait for my second real love, to enter my life: my future husband. In the mean time, I’ll stay prayed up in stillness for my Prince Charming, to come to me.

Love, your daughter, thank you, for being my Highest King.

This path called life, belongs to Jesus Christ.

Happy birthday little brother, I love you, beyond expression.
*names changed, for privacy purposes, #TeamProPrivacy


I’m making the eudemonic decision to elevate my psyche and walk in the level of peace you see I’m capable of living in Abba. It’s a blessing to be entrusted with the beauty of free will. Your monumental trust in us is breath taking. I am halted to a standstill, in the midst of my thoughts, stopping the transition of formulating words. I’m choking into utter silence. How much you love us ceases to amaze me. I will never get enough of your deliberate determination to show out. You are just so majestic.

I’m waiting. The flag is up, and I’m breathing in stillness. The questions I have, only you have the answers to them all; and you’ll reveal to me should you choose, to answer any, or all areas. Your way, not mine, and your timing, not mine. With everything. You deliberately have what makes no sense to me, looking how it looks. It won’t change my quest to chase you, and my determination to zero in on you; existing solely in the vertical. Regardless of my struggles Abba. I’m never going to stop running straight to your arms, or stop dancing with you. It’s been an incredible ride these past couple of years running straight in your arms. Growing forward.

The best eudemonic choice I made in my life, was choosing to follow your perfect son publicly on April, 4th, 2014. It demolished my buffet of convenience. It halted my nitpicking the bible, and choosing what to follow regardless of my brokenness. It killed my social relationship of being a believer, and my personal relationship with Christ was born. You want our relationship with Jesus personal, but you never intended for it to be private. There’s power in the name of Jesus to be bold not silent. It was still my choice to selectively live for you, because it allowed me to feed my brokenness, and live in my ugly known.

I controlled my ugly known as empty as it felt, as suffocating as it made me; or no matter how trapped, and unhappy I felt, I still knew what to expect in my broken loop. The replay was a blanket to me. A filthy soother like an ill dog going to it’s vomit, because of the broken habit of perspective, and familiarity. My misery was what I had control over; my paralyzing depression, and suicidal fight, was a black abyss of eternal falling, to the self made hell I lived in. I was in so deep, light was forgotten. Truth became lies, and my brokenness is what I trusted as truth. The vortex was expected, because it’s the result I came to know. That’s how broken I was Abba. Thank God you walked me away from such a heartbreaking, and self inflicting dysfunction. You telling me you’d provide the water to defeat my giants; and all I had to do was lift my hand to shovel, and dig the ditches.

The unknown gave me anxiety, and birthed my eating disorders. Change was an infectious disease that wasn’t curable for such a long time. The idea of eating glass, or laying in the middle of the I-95 seemed more appealing. But then Anderson* happened and your Great Name was glorified. I had enough of the brokenness. The switch in my mind shifted up. And that’s when you illuminated me, because I lifted my hand, and called for help by digging my ditches.

I needed to be spit out from the belly of that whale. The overflowing water from the blackest part of the sea became too much. I was over my lungs being crushed, and I was over being away from you God. That’s when you sent out Jojo* to cross my path again. That’s when she planted the seeds of The Brooklyn Tabernacle. That’s when she was persistent to not leave my life. To walk me through ending my life, and hop to Jesus, because she unraveled me. The rest is the beautiful journey that brought us here Abba. Me and you constant one. And the vessels you want in my life. My sword is lifted as your warrior.

I never looked back to the temporary residue of this broken world. As tantalizing as anything I chased here was, whether it was men, or money; or a combination of both that created the falsified, yet empty deluded lifestyle. It always lasted a season only, and I had to find the next fix. Because delusions don’t last forever.

There’s so many times you can relive a loop before you tell God you want to tap out, and be spit out from the belly of the whale. I’m not only speaking from experience; but I was the biggest supporter of running, and being in denial. It’s an addicting brokenness to keep seeking the ugly, and keep living in that dysfunctional loop, all because embracing a beautiful unknown has no lacing of The Crysta Control syndrome.

I have no idea if my challenge of relinquishing control initially derives from being sexually assaulted at 19; or it’s my upbringing, or just even a combination of all ingredients, that make-up the supernatural map, you lovingly formulated that makes me your daughter. This path called life, and testimony you are trusting me to walk through, is truly a humbling honor. You are the only one that has the answer to this question on my wrestle with control; but I’m honestly grateful for my flaws that birthed my shortcomings and failures. They built my trust in you, and grew my faith tremendously even when it felt, or looked otherwise. Like the Harper* holography.

Holography is scientifically practicing holograms. Holograms are fascinating, because there’s more than one surface. There’s more than one way to envision or interpret the artistry. That’s real art to me: the ability to envision the same creation multiple ways.

I used to love painting and sketching. As a teenager I used to go to the park, and sketch; or stare at my mom’s fruit bowls she assembled together, and do shade ins. Drawing and painting used to be so therapeutic for me. My mom’s an amazing artist; and used to just blow my mind with her talents, but she stopped suddenly like I did.

Then I blabbed inadvertently to Naomi* about the ability to draw, and paint; and she took me to this amazing artist store in Union Square. It made my heart flutter slightly in the midst of my nervousness. We both bought sketching pads and colored pencils. I gravitated towards the black pads. I never did artwork on a black surface before.

That was a month ago, and I have yet to sketch even though I keep seeing images to draw, and create. I guess they won’t stop, until I put pencil to paper will they Abba? You’re trying to get my attention in an area I’ve convinced myself left me. Just like you’ve already shown me where I stood with my singing voice. And you have me doing something in January that freaks me out. But I’m saying yes to you, because you were patient enough to see me grasp your hand full throttle.

Changes are the unknown, and when they’re God-ordained, I will always walk in a successful victory. Because they are a testament to your Great Name. If I do anything that doesn’t magnify you Abba, immediately remove it from my life. Because I wouldn’t be here without you God. I wouldn’t be so close to you nor would I be so confident in my walk, and trust you completely with whatever comes next. Everything I’ve been through, and experienced has brought me to this exact moment of clarity.

This exact day. December 21st 2015. Exactly a year ago you prompted me to do something for that son of yours that I didn’t want to do, because it was absurd to me. But I did it because you’re my Creator. You are my alpha and my omega. The origin begins with you, because you’re the artist that birthed it all. And only you can end anything that encompasses me. Ridiculous faith.

The 365 days I’ve been blessed to live since last year has been one educational and beautiful blessing. I lost three people that mattered so much to me. Went through some family storms I’m still trusting you to deliver my beloveds from. And you will because you always honor big faith. As stormy as this Harper holography felt to walk through, I’m grateful for it all. It helped me to take the eudemonic step to run even faster to you. I decided I’ll never not take everything to you ever again.

Harper was an amazing test that I passed. I’m proud of that. Nothing will occur with him unless you make it happen. I can say that with conviction, and total freedom. Worldly Crysta would have never been able to say that about any guy. I can say that about the man I’ll marry one day, because you’ll bring him in my life Abba; and you’ll tell him to cut in our dance. All I have to do is keep chasing you, and keep dancing with you.

Because I’m in love with you loving me God. It’s the sweetest gift and emotion I’ve ever felt in my life. No one is worth losing that. I’m grateful for Anderson too, because he was the last draw that caused me to look up. He made my dysfunction hurt enough to surrender, and allow you to guide me out of the abyss I walked myself in. I forgive everyone that ever hurt me. Because they were used to draw me closer to you, therefore they are all a blessing; nothing is better than you God. No one will ever be either. The Harper holography showed me that he’ll never be an idol for me. I’ll never ever put him above you God.

And this season has been molding me to be a proverbs 31 woman. A proverbs 31 wife. A proverbs 31 daughter. You’re preparing me for my future husband. You’re chiseling away what’s not of you, so I can be the rib my future husband needs. So I’m so thankful for this hologram. That makes me excited, because I’ll be better effective to do the edifying walk, that you called me to walk through, right along side my future husband; to execute exactly as you created me and him to do.

I see Harper as a holographic storm, that you did not remove no matter how many times I reasoned; or talked to you about it before. Holography is gorgeous, yet complex because of the multiple surfaces, and various perspectives that can be comprehended. Many hats. Many characters. Many roles to mask the real human underneath it all.

That’s what your son Harper does Abba. I see him. I see it all but only because you allowed me to constant one. There’s so much hidden beauty being snuffed out, and that’s understood completely to me. I did it for my entire life before April 4, 2014. It’s not necessary, but I get it. He hasn’t reached the point where he had enough; so he can’t give you the signal yet Abba. To be illuminated as you make the way, through the darkness to show him how to get to the surface. Anderson was my last draw.

Maybe his last draw is right around the corner, or closer than he even realizes. It’s like floating like a glistening and melting iceberg; or on the sea in a boat, then suddenly an iceberg is seen from a distance. At first glance it seems harmless, small, but the closer you get, the bigger and more harmful it becomes. That’s how the titanic sunk. Icebergs are a fascinating piece of ice. Rock solid hard. Roughly cut and it’s unclear how much the foundation is hidden in the black abyss of the ocean.

An iceberg can be admired as beautiful, and can evolve, or it can destroy because everything isn’t seen; it all depends on what the surrounding of the iceberg is. Like what’s feeding the iceberg wind to make it harder, and keep it in the dark buried in the blackest part of the ocean? Or is the sun creating crystallization, magnifying the beauty as it glistens, and softens from the melting; and shedding to ultimately float to the surface?

Harper is comfortable being an iceberg, isn’t he Abba?. Being seen, but not fully. On the water, but not actively floating on the surface because its roots are hidden in the dark. Then again it can be argued that an iceberg has multiple surfaces, or at the very least, multiple edges with various shapes; various cuts, like bruises from cuts we accumulate over time, through life experiences.

Pain is a penetrator that occurs over years of avoidance. Pain can be masked, snuffed to the bottom of an iceberg; sitting in a black abyss where it’s staying hidden and untouched. It’s not fully known how deep the ice is grounded in that black abyss of the ocean. So the level of pain will only come to the surface when the iceberg can illuminate to the surface by floating.

Water represents cleansing and purity; a beautiful new beginning with our savior, but it only happens in the light and in total surrender. An abyss can’t be blessed if we don’t pick up our shovel to dig the ditches for our illumination. Only then will you fill them with water to save us from the Giants of the world. You’ll always provide a way God when there seems to be none.

But we have to hop to you, and follow your voice no matter how ugly our hop is; or the fact we can’t see where we are going; following your voice is enough. Ridiculous faith. That’s when you honor us; when you see our actions being executed. When we make the eudemonic decision to float, not fight on the water, by redirecting our eyes back to Jesus. In the dark so much can be hidden. But thank God you use everything for your glory.

It’s not an accident you have me mediating, and doing a bible plan on the intercessor Elisha from my bible app. I’m soaking up the incredible greatness. And I see it changing me or more like shifting me to that space Naomi* was talking about; because I had no clue what she was saying. It was more like I didn’t want to see what she was saying; because it meant I’d have to stop what is holding me back now.

My eudemonic choice to encourage my anger is a hinderance you want me to dismantle. Anger isn’t of you God, but it allows me to be a brat; when I honestly don’t have to be. I don’t have to stoop to the space many of your children are struggling in, and sadly can’t see it some of the times. But there are other moments they know exactly what they’re doing.

Sometimes rising above feels like it’s for nothing, and a waste of time; so I rebel and conform. I ignore how awkward, and wrong it feels. I don’t always catch the crazy called my anger. It’s just as surprising to me as my expressions. And that’s probably why you also have me mediating on James 3 and the book of Proverbs; so that I’m consistent with being slow to anger, and understanding truly how lethal my tongue is. And how deeply my words cut, regardless of how tough I am. Not everyone is me. Not everyone walked what I walked through. Not everyone chases you full throttle. Not everyone is making the eudemonic acceptance to live by faith not by sight.

These past 365 days had a lot of pivotal moments and occurrences for me. And the fact that I’m thriving, and not just surviving is a testament to how great you are Abba. The deaths of my beloved family members devastated me; but I immediately ran to you. Not what worldly Crysta would have done. I made the choice to find my strength in you and not lean on my own understanding.

Everything involving Harper, I’m incredibly grateful for because it propelled me to be the proverbs 31 woman for my future husband and for your people. I’m becoming a better daughter for your kingdom and that’s all because of this season. Especially this past year I walked through because of you. Whatever you have in stored for 2016, I accept and I say yes to it God. I have no clue what you’re going to do or how you’re going to do it regarding this hologram. But you’ll step in and lead the way. Je Suis Pret > Tableu Vivants.

I love you constant one.

Your daughter.

This path called life belongs Jesus Christ.

*Names changed for privacy purposes. #TeamProPrivacy


This is a very weary place you have me God. Nothing is working out how it would make sense to me; then again you’re God. Your logic will never ever be parallel to mine. That’s why you blessed me with the Holy Spirit. That’s why you keep surging my heart with the foudroyant element of total surrender.

Sometimes it feels like I can’t express how I feel to Naomi* without her ramming the bible down my throat or telling me that I should do this or that. As if I don’t know any of this. As if she’s not supposed to be doing the same things and telling herself as well.

Your perfect son got mad. And threw things so why can’t I; without this sense of whatever emotion that she’s projecting. I’m just over it God. So over it. Then the disappearing thing she does? Is that something she plans on doing with Ezekiel* when they get married? Because it’s so uncool. Communication is big to me. Team talk it out. Team fight it out. Team something’s coming out. No suppression. It’s far more lethal than the injection on death row.

We treat our horizontal relationships how we treat you God. If we suck at communicating in the horizontal then we will suck at communicating to you in the vertical. If we run from problems or change of the unknown in the horizontal we’ll run from you in the vertical and straight into the arms of sin and the world. It’s the fastest way to run from you. I’m getting a front row show now on how it looks.

Jesus didn’t disconnect from you for hours on end; and you also wired us to need the body. Like Naomi* saying she’s never had support or love like me or whatever she said God; like I honestly didn’t know how to respond to that or what to say. But her reaction to it is not communicating for hours on end? That doesn’t make sense and it’s completely frustrating to the point I just want to throw in the towel with people.

The enigma in my yearn to love everyone around me. Yet fight this foudroyant feeling to isolate because the body is a conundrum. I am clearly made in another capacity; so I don’t get the point of this season whatsoever. Maybe you’ll never give me clarity on it. That’s okay. I say yes to you and you’re still Lord.

I don’t believe Naomi fully forgave Ezekiel* otherwise there wouldn’t be so much weariness in her heart. On her face. In her mind, plaguing her. Forgiveness is a clean slate. If Ezekiel* has that, she would not look like she carries a burden I’m not even sure you actually want her to carry. But you’re God and you have that too. I can just keep talking to you about it.

Her telling me to have love and patience for Emma* when Emma* indirectly and slyly attempted to be salty about no one saying anything to her about her birthday just set me off. Emma didn’t ask how I was doing? I’m doing slightly better since my missing brother was found on Monday but he’s back in the hospital again. But thanks for not asking about that. And then Naomi told me I should have been nicer to not snap? Maybe but I’m flawed and that pissed me off.

So Naomi saying what she said made me check out. I don’t know what I taught my kids today. It’s a complete blur. I just pray I wasn’t snippy at them. Naomi* has zero patience for Jojo* like zilch. And it’s to the point where she avoids her; and wants to nitpick my faults and use scripture too? That makes me see red God. I’ve been seeing red lately. Your daughter Naomi has severe perfectionism. Does she know that God? It’s extremely scary.

I pray for these pent up emotions to be released; and not have her fight to polish them enough to take them to you God in prayer. She may not lash out when she’s angry; (God bless her in that discipline because it’s beautiful to witness) or whatever emotion Naomi* is feeling outside of your consistency. She eats her emotions that are not of you Abba through anxiety.

That’s scary too. She had a panic attack and hid it!!! I’m still trying not to be pissed off at that. Makes me think what else is she hiding. It’s been two weeks since Jojo and I exchanged some heated words. But Abba, she had a panic attack when Jojo* and I were in the middle of just going off on each other. Naomi went to a place where only you can handle God: control. We all have this issue, especially me; however, you’re somehow piercing me in stunning surrender. Whether I’m an active participant or not.

You’re taking mighty long to formulate this foudroyant surge of surrender in Harper.* You won’t change this insanity according to me, which is my control; yet he’s still doing him. Big faith. Right? That’s what Naomi keeps saying perfect trust it’ll all work out. Blah. How I feel about that truth moves like the unreliable aggressive wind. It’s a ticking time bomb. It’s disruptive, explosive, and there’s no set expectation on when the atomic kaboom will happen. That’s scary Abba.

Those are how my emotions can be sometimes. No wonder we have to fix our eyes on you. I’m not consistently fixing my eyes on you God. So my perfect balance of floating is being interrupting because I’m looking at Harper’s actions. No wonder I’m struggling to catch my balance. I’m relying on an unpredictable when all I need to do is look up. There’s no need for me to be struggling to catch my balance. I have no business glancing at him. He’s not you Abba.

Naomi is so amazing at having perfect trust for me and I’m able to vividly see it all working out for her. But me and this son of yours? A root canal with no Novocain sounds more realistic. The reality of Harper and myself is a foudroyant feeling of being struck by lightening. I’m on replay of the weary whirlwind that just consumes me.

I refused to write this blog for as long as you allowed me to ride that defiant wave. I guess I had to get into tiffs with both Jojo* and Naomi* to express myself, and they were ironically both defending Harper* when we got into tiffs. Abba, like really?! My best friends too? I can’t have any breaks.

Your foudroyant forcefield of protection for Harper is beautiful and annoys me at the same time. Yes, it annoys me. Completely annoys me. This whole season annoys me. You’re ripping away all my control. What about his? And then… He gets rooters and cheerleaders in my best friends too? Really?

No ones on my side about this being absurd. No one. That’s not fair. It also feels like Naomi is taking on a heavy load you never gave her. I don’t think she even sees what she’s doing. You didn’t allow your son to die for future, present and past mistakes for any of us to avoid making mistakes; especially at the expense of being like an egg shell. An egg that can crack at any second because of how easily breakable it is. Naomi doesn’t see that either does she? That she’s an egg shell. You didn’t save her for that scale to still be around or that stone to not have been rolled away yet.

Does she even understand that I know with conviction that there’s nothing I can do today, tomorrow or twenty thousand hours from now; that can stop you from loving me God. You’re my Abba. My rant today, although it didn’t need to occur; because you do want us to always be Jesus like, it did not phase me. I wasn’t afraid of you not loving me. Or rejecting me. That paralyzing fear is gone. And it’s all because of you Abba. Thank you for the greatest gift ever.

I know you love me. Your perfect son died for me. Me. Screwed up, control freak that’s a complete hothead me. I’m not afraid to be flawed or make any mistakes. I’m making them now. By the multiples and I’m excited. Yes, excited. Because you’re the only one that will and can walk me through them. I love that I’m flawed God because it means I have more opportunities for you to draw nearer to me and chisel away what’s not of you. Like this fight with Harper. I’m weary and fascinated in how you will work this out God. Only you can because you see where I am emotionally as of now.

If Naomi can disappear for hours on end from me who she considers her best friend and barely tells me her raw emotions, (they’re usually polished) what does she do with you God? It terrifies me to think of a possibility she’s not raw with you. It’s like she always feels the necessity to be polished before she comes to you? I used to be like that. It’s exhausting.

Look at how you worked out my determination to cut Jojo out my life that night. It was insane to me that you, yes you God, made my phone stop working when I tried to have her arrested because she wouldn’t get out of my face. There’s no prisoners when I’m irrationally upset. Thank God you saved me.

And that argument happened because Jojo was defending that son of yours. I felt I snapped out of place because it’s a blurred red now. You illuminated it so the color evolved to pink. Like didn’t Harper ignore Jojo in church once? She’s so nice to him. I wish I saw that; I would’ve wanted to do something but you probably would prevent me as you always do Abba.

But you’re breaking me to build me. Thank you for that precious grace. Why is it that I know a horrible rant or horrendous argument is going to be fixed and resolved if the relationship is God-ordained. That goes for planktonic and romantic. Like Jojo* isn’t going anywhere because you don’t want her to. So I tried it that night. Naomi isn’t going anywhere either no matter how many more tiffs need to occur. She can’t avoid disagreeing with me because she doesn’t like it.

Look how well that worked out for me when I was working in the legal world. I never want her or any of your children to go through what I did. They don’t have to, because I did; and I’ll gladly be your example because I love your people so much despite my personal fight with them. It’s an honor to go lower for them.

It’s hard Abba. I have to fight my foudroyant urge to do what I’m seeing: run and destroy by clinging to the world. So many people are doing it. Seems like life is wonderful. Life looks peachy for Harper* I want to look peachy too. They’re delicious and just melt in your mouth. They have a smooth enticing surface that’s very appealing. Peaches have an unlimited about of juice. Juicy juice. I keep telling you that Harper and I have nothing in common or no life experiences that are parallel. Then Horde happened and you made me remember Jared* and his purpose: to write Horde.

That wasn’t enough though. There’s something else we also share: you took my first boyfriend to heaven Abba. I refuse to believe he’s not up there partying with you. Refuse, because he was so amazing and I would be married to him now. I’m so convinced of that. Yes apart of me thinks that he’s the only guy that will ever get me. My high school sweetheart: it was perfect. We did homework together. We played video games together. I used to wear his letter jacket and went to his basketball games. My parents loved him. His family adored me. Especially his dad. Life was amazing. He was my first kiss at 17 years old. I told him I wasn’t comfortable doing that and wanted to wait for marriage and he was okay with that. I think I saw chirping birds. Who’s really okay with that? Such bliss.

I don’t want to write about him right now. It’s too hurtful and I have to remember he’s not here anymore. I refuse to give him a fake name. I can’t. He was that amazing. Then we broke up for a bit but found our way back to each other. He got caught up in the flashy lifestyle because scouters came to watch him play at school. Then he got injured and I was secretly happy because I didn’t want to be an NBA wife. He would’ve gotten drafted because he was that good. And I’m not just saying that. The horror stories of not only being an NBA wife but just being in the league. I wanted our relationship to keep its purity and innocence. And he was okay with that. I never meet anyone like him.

But then he took that job I had a crappy feeling about and you took him away from me God. Why? He loved me and wanted me from day one. Saw the Labrador that I am when I didn’t even see it. He was the first guy to point out that I didn’t have to blend in and shouldn’t; because I was made to stand out. He wanted to go to the NBA to set us up right and I didn’t care about any of that. But you took him away. And that shifted me. I didn’t make the connection until now. I didn’t want to be here on Earth because he wasn’t here.

What do I do now with this revelation? I should be his wife not fighting to trust you in something Harper doesn’t want. I need to be wanted. I need to be needed. My high school sweetheart did that for me. Jared did that for me. But Jared was never mine. My high school sweetheart was. But he’s gone. And now I have all these memories that I clearly buried. I don’t know how to feel now. I don’t know what to do with any of these foudroyant emotions that bolted through my core. It’s so raw and fresh. And all I can do is give it to you because it’s late and I have one more day to teach until my vacation starts. I am hopping to you Abba.

God you’re breaking a lot out of me. And I thank you God that you love me so much; you’re pruning and carving me until I’m where you need me to be. I miss my high school sweetheart. I had to forget him so that I don’t have the why’d you take him away question. It’s not my place to be upset or question you God. All I need to do is love you and trust you. Thank you God for taking me flaws and all and meeting me to evolve me into the butterfly you need. To groom me to be the daughter you built inside my core so that I can be used to illuminate this darken world. I’ll fix my eyes back on you. Give you all of this and go to sleep now.

I love you Abba. Thank you for it all.

This path called life belongs to Jesus Christ.

*Names changed for privacy purposes. #TeamProPrivacy


I really don’t want to be here sitting down and talking about this. I really thought I was past these emotions and honestly I didn’t even realize that I felt this way. I feel blindsided and baffled with this newfound understanding I associated Harper* with Anderson.* Is that why I said no thank you to Harper* since day one? Is it also why I was partially relieved when you told me God the results of April before it even occurred?

There was a part of me that was actually happy. Happy! Happy that I was devastated all this time because it meant he’s not in my space; he’s over there not near me where I’m vulnerable to him. Where there would be a window for him to hurt me on an even deeper level; and worse than anything Anderson ever did. Because that meant I didn’t have to deal with another Anderson* and you’d redirect me God to a great guy like Jared* since he was already promised to someone else. You can get me another one. You’re God. You can do anything. You resurrected Lazarus.

I would never have to deal with an Anderson again. I can’t. He was so manipulative and such a pathological liar: he made me feel so dirty. He made me feel like I wasn’t enough as I was. He messed with my friends. He wasn’t faithful to me. Sex was all he cared about. He completely perverted the bible and flipped up my head.

I felt like I was six feet under, consumed with the dust you created us from; clawing to reach to the surface to no avail. I wanted to die. I was already dead on the inside. Matching all of Crysta to be dead just made sense. Everything in my life at the time felt impossible and being with him made it feel like a death trap as if he was the grim reaper. As if I was Lazarus except Jesus wasn’t coming four days later.

Anderson wasn’t supportive and didn’t care at all about me otherwise he wouldn’t have gone after people who I thought were my friends. Especially while being with me. One of them being Jojo* at the time we weren’t as close as we are now and ironically after the Anderson asteroid we became best friends.

She was the only one there for me after I got out the hospital. I was there for two weeks. Maybe more it’s unclear, these are crappy painful memories I don’t want to address; but this is the only way the stone will be rolled away. I feel like I have a log stuck in my throat. If this is the only way I can do my ugly hop to Jesus then I say yes. Jesus is worth anything and everything.

A beyond brilliant sermon was ministered through one of my favorite vessels on Earth: Tim Ross at Misfit on Friday. He ministered to us on John 11. The way this vessel brings the word to life is beyond a gift Abba. Thank you for being determined to roll away his stone and resurrect him. The world needs him so much. I went to misfit with Naomi* and Jojo.* That was such a blessing we laughed until we cried. I love laughing until my belly hurts. Abba these women are such a blessing in my life. Thank you for this sisterhood and forever fellowship because saying these words doesn’t seem like enough.

When you just say yes to God and step out of his way, God will always surpass what you want; because what you need is so much better than anything imagined. Anything you’re clinging to fight for and hold onto isn’t worth it. Specifically if it’s not God-ordained. It blocks your beautiful blessing because it’s laced with brokenness. God heals the broken pieces so let him.

Hop to the voice of Jesus and let him surround you with God’s children that will unravel you not bondage you. Lazarus was wrapped in bandages even though everyone knew Jesus was coming. They all fell into the trap of paying attention to how it looked on the surface. Lazarus was dead in his flesh and his flesh decayed away but his spirit wasn’t. That belonged to God. Always has and always will.

There’s no where on this planet where we will ever be prevented from feeling the presence of God. There’s no escaping our creator ever. That’s the best comforter we could ever be blessed with. Lazarus’ spirit was going to be birth and revived simultaneously. Because when God glorifies, he does it in a big way.

That’s my struggle with Harper* I see him with Anderson* traits. I’m paying attention to the decay and allowing what I see to paralyze me in fear and it makes me want to shut down and shut out. So I fight you God. And we wrestle because I can’t be the broken suicidal girl that stopped eating and hated how she looked and bent herself backwards ever again. All because of a manipulator.

Anyone that’s good with words can manipulate; that’s why I hated working in the legal world. The lawyers I worked with sucked as humans; manipulated left and right and they just left a bad impression imprinted on my heart. That’s beyond idolatry that’s worse than death. It was worse than being raped at 19. I can’t go back to that person. I’d rather be single for the rest of my life than be her ever ever again. I’d rather will flying bullets as a bullseye to my temple. Jesus is enough. Jesus is my savior God. I’m okay. I’m safe without Harper.* What I see scares me.

I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to be sitting here with the amazing sisters you blessed me with: Jojo and Naomi crying my eyes out telling them how I don’t want to talk about this stone being rolled away. Be resurrected in this area. I don’t want it rolled away. I want to stay decayed and dead. I’m safer here. At least it feels that way.

And I won’t have another Anderson in my life. That way I don’t face this. I don’t feel this. I don’t remember the darkness. I don’t have to relive me trying to hurt myself or crying for three days straight. Or chopping off my hair. I don’t have to remember any of it. I don’t have to close my eyes and feel this. Like if it was just yesterday.

As if I’m back to that broken girl that locked herself in her room for three days straight. Brushing this area of my life to the side is so much easier. Just admitting all of this to Jojo and Naomi made me shut down after drying my eyes. Naomi picked up that I immediately lost my appetite. I felt the repulsion of food tonight. The idea of me eating or drinking anything made me want to vomit tonight.

I hate triggers. This all occurred because of Jojo’s blog post triggering these memories and emotions. Food just looks like an enemy right now. I didn’t know how Naomi expected me to eat the food without throwing up on her face God. I just wanted to fade into the chair. I’m sorry Abba if that disappoints you, considering how amazingly blessed I was by Tim Ross on Friday night. And you’re just you God.

I don’t want to push past food being disgusting to me right now. I don’t know why you have so much faith in me God. I don’t have it in myself; that’s why I lean on you for support. Because you’re literally the only reason I’m not flatlined. You’re my everything constant one. I don’t want to ever disappoint you or make you sad so I ate the food.

But this burning fire in my chest you have going on in me for weeks now what’s up with this? I cried; so what am I missing? I don’t get it God. What’s it in relation to? And why can’t Jojo or Naomi tell me since they both know? All I see when I look at Harper right now is Anderson. I can’t stress that enough. Naomi says Harper is not Anderson but how does she know that? That black hole I barely survived; I’m so in love with you God why would a black hole have my heart? Or why do I feel like he’s a black hole? That’s not fair. You were there when I was with Anderson. Only you got me away.

And honestly if you didn’t make me blurt out that Jared* was going to marry a white woman the day I meet him; it would not have always stayed at the back of my mind. It served as my invisible blocker to see Jared as anything other than a guy I’m helping.

You knew that I put him in the unavailable glass house because of how I love and value relationships. But I only love and value the ones that are of you God. The ones that aren’t. I just keep in prayer. And I have faith that you will work it out as you deem fit. Jared’s such a great guy and Jojo’s* right he did want to give me the world. Because it was in his eyes; I just ignored it because of what I blurted out the day I meet him. Thank God I did because he’s with the one he was always meant to be with and he’s so happy.

Jared wasn’t open to his wife in the beginning; he dismissed her and listed reasons left and right but they all spelled change. They spelled a stone that needed to be rolled away for Jared. Eventually, Jared was open to his wife and now they’re so blessed with a gorgeous baby.

At least my heart would be safe according to me. Jared got his HEA (happily ever after) doesn’t mean I will. And that’s okay, Jesus is still my Lord whether my prayer gets answered by that special day or not. Jesus is still going to be enough for me because I’m a follower not a fan. Fans like and only expect to be answered. Fans praise when they only see rainbows. Followers praise no matter what.

Abba I’m not even sure why I’m even writing this. I still feel me struggling to hop to you. I feel the bandages burning and molding to my skin because I’ve been wrapped so tightly by past hurts and traumas. It was so much easier to push it to the side and not face or deal with this.

Abba I say yes to your will. I’m scared and fear isn’t of you. I don’t know what else I could be triggered by; but I know sugar is a trigger for me besides Harper and Anderson. I avoid sugar like the plague because I don’t want to end up like my mom. She’s getting worse Abba. She’s diabetic and her hands shake and she moves so slow. And I feel so stupid for walking on big faith you’ll turnaround her health.

My brother and sister already started mentally preparing themselves for her death so has my dad. All of this just pisses me off. She’s here like what’s up with that?! I’m tired of crying and I’m tapping out and begging for help. I’ll keep hopping my ugly hop to you. I want this stone gone and I want to be resurrected like Lazarus. I just say yes Abba. You lead the way.

Thank you for being my way when there wasn’t any Abba.

Thank you for loving me when I couldn’t love myself and I still have hiccups now.

Thank you for being determined to have my bondages removed because I’m yours and no one else’s.

Thank you for being my constant one and meeting me and taking me as I am.

Thank you for it all.

Including this extremely uncomfortable season. God thank you for being with Jojo and Harper. You know every hair on their heads and every emotion they feel. You also know their real names. Whatever stones they have an iron grip on please push them to release them; so they can be abundantly blessed by what you’re longing to give them. Your will be done.

Thank you for being our Abba. Thank you for Lazarus and the amazing glorification that’s still happening today through that testimony; we all have stones that need rolling away. We all have decayed flesh that only Jesus can renew better than before so hop your ugly hop to him so that he can surround you with vessels that unravels.

I live for you and love you constant one.

Your daughter.

This path called life belongs to Jesus Christ.

*Names changed for privacy purposes. #TeamProPrivacy


Labrador Tea flower has a unique birthing process. It’s a flower that grows from a rock. A rock, with minimal sunlight, it’s unclear to scientist if and how much water this flower receives as well as the uncertainty of sunlight it accumulates. So how’s this flower existing on this planet? You God, that’s how. The scientific geek in me immediately had to research this flower after reading it in my devotional yesterday and I’ve been fascinated ever since. I’m pondering the mystical wonder of your mind blowing supernatural abilities just giddy with excitement.

It’s been scientifically demonstrated that flowers grow with standard key ingredients: water, sunlight, seeds and soil but a Labrador growing from a rock is beyond amazing. The roots of this flower pushes through concrete to get to a surface and become a beautiful white circular flower. I don’t think that it’s a coincidence that this flower is the shape of your never ending love a circle; and the color that represents purity, the same purity you want all your beloved children to protect.

This is all you Abba. It’s gorgeous how you’re so deliberate with your creations and how you just amazingly show out and show up. It ceases to take my breath away. It feeds my inner nerd and my heart is overjoyed; it leaves me in a shockwave of soundless inhaling and exhilarating exhaling murmurs. You’re just majestic Abba. You should’ve let me be a scientist far away from here. Like where most of these rock creations grow: Newfoundland, Canada. You keep blocking me and Canada, what’s up with that? Canada is awesome.

I’m very fascinated with this flower, and its ability to not only persevere and push through a challenging beginning; but to still arise and blossom into its unique beauty. God you always knew it could be despite the challenges of the hand dealt.

It shows strength and a unique calling this beauty was birth to be. The circumstances of this creation makes it special. It’s not a typical rose or lily. A Labrador has a smooth leather surface and can turn into a herbal tea for healing when crushed. Broken down into multiple pieces it’s served to heal many. Something so hard to create can heal organically!? That’s just a testament to how you just do you God. Please continue with your greatness. You are who you are. And it makes me think about my current season.

I process every storm you walked me through and I reflect how parallel my roots are to a Labrador; and the process of being your chosen daughter started long before April 4, 2014. That was just the day I publicly decided to never look back. My roots barely had sunlight but your illumination had me brighter than the sun you created billions of years ago. What you were determined to have me survive regardless what I attempted, is all the evidence I needed. Because you’re God and I don’t even need evidence, but you’re gracious enough to give it to me. I’ll forever praise you’re Holy Name.

It’s hard to process but not impossible to accept that you have a special calling on my life. The pruning season I’m currently in feels like a caterpillar removing it’s scales of dead skin that becomes free from the bondage and morph into the rebirthing of your beautiful butterfly. A complete renewal and revival.

It’s also not a coincidence that you made the most special butterfly found only in Australia the largest and longest butterfly to live: 40 days. With crystal clear wings. The same amount of days that Jesus fasted for our salvation. It’s not an accident that you created my brain to connect your beautiful details supernaturally. I’m bold enough to share the dots and draw them for the rest of your children fearlessly now as you continue to prune me. They’re too beautiful not to broadcast. Everything you allow and do is deliberate. My roots are pushing through concrete and you’re preparing me to bloom.

All adversaries around me are as challenging as rising through concrete but it won’t altar your will to have my roots emerge to the surface like your beautiful Labrador tea flower does. The journey isn’t easy but the result ends in the same unique beauty and purpose of being a flower carrying the anointed cloak of healing. The epitome of perseverance at its finest.

I can’t blossom to the surface the way you created me to formulate, if I’m in your way preventing my roots from pushing through; just because I’m annoyed with the limited information you’ve given me.

Every enigma in my life I can accept and walk in bold faith that you’re working out and the roots will result in a beauty like a Labrador tea flower. Everything I’m walking on water with except for Harper* because I don’t want to honestly. It’s not a tantalizing struggle to push through; it’s hard having roots I have no control of feeling or having when blossoming to the surface isn’t appealing. I’d rather stay blended in the rock until the surface seems worth blossoming to. This isn’t. He isn’t because it’s not an outcome that wants or understands the beauty of a Labrador; so why are you grooming me for a man that wants a lily or a rose? They’re easily found, easily attained and I’m not. Not everyone is ready for a rare breed or appreciates one.

Why not groom me for a radical man that actually wants and appreciates the unique beauty of Labrador tea flower? Doesn’t that make more sense Abba? I think so. But I’m not you. So I can’t make this decision for you. If I could I would follow his lead to do me like he’s doing him carefree. But you’re blocking me. You have your work cut out for you. As if you don’t know.

I was never meant to be a lily or a rose and I’m done trying to understand that appeal or worse try and be those flowers when you birthed me to be as synonymously symbolic as a Labrador tea flower. Because I love you so much and trust you Abba I’ll get out of your way as you keep guiding me to the surface in this area too. I would repent for my wrestle with these roots but I know I’ll keep resisting so just know I’m sorry and I’m grateful for your patience and grace.

I love you constant one. Love your daughter.

This path called life belongs to Jesus Christ.

*Names changed for privacy purposes. #TeamProPrivacy


Fiduciary…..involving trust. Biggest part of this word Abba. The bridge that gaps the beneficiary and the trustee. This word despite being heavily needed in the legal world is a word I now associate to you Jesus. You are my fiduciary bridge that connects me to this world and your people. Thank you for walking me through this fire God.

Last night guiding me to read Luke 7 and taking the biggest lesson: you honor big faith, was not an accident. I just been so uncomfortable having all these deep buried pains and areas of ugly of myself coming out of hiding.

I felt dirty yet you cleansed me through that lie.

I felt unloved yet you held my hand tightly until I felt your presence will never leave me. You are my fiduciary gap to faith.

I felt petrified about this level of intimacy yet you’re gripping my hand being my benefactor I desperately needed. This fiduciary truth is now my reality.

This is why you kept telling me to trust you. You needed everything I hid to come to the surface. Everything I hate about myself to come to the surface. I hate that I was stupid enough to be at a place I had no business being in and got raped. Only idiots do that. A gift that belonged to the guy you carved for me was taken because I was careless. Who would want me after that?

You’re my fiduciary representative. You’re honoring my love and faith in you through all those years; when people were looking at me like I was crazy for not hating you and cursing your name because that happened to me. It happened to you too. You saw everything. You feel everything. I hurt that means you hurt. I hate myself that means I don’t even realize I’m hating you too. I can’t do that anymore. I just made that connection. I repent. Forgive me God. This is about me and you God first and foremost. We aren’t right. I cannot be right with anyone else. Thank you for loving me so much to insist this is my reality. To insist I’m not afraid of this level of intimacy with you. Everything starts with you God. Thank you for being my fiduciary representative.

There’s nothing but beauty and love in you Jesus. And you died for me. Because God loves all of us that much.

That means there’s nothing but beauty and love in me too. Because you saw all this. Know all of me better than I do. Know that the war inside of me is me fighting my big faith that you birthed me to always walk in. Not sometimes and get tripped up by horizontal glances when my core isn’t affected. I’ve been representing big faith before April, 4, 2014. It baffled me too much to believe because it made no sense.

Worldly Crysta was all about believing what she saw. Or was she? You’re showing me God that I was fighting to create an identity that was never mine. That’s why everything of the world felt so wrong. And so off. I didn’t want to be alone so I forced myself to do what I saw. I still felt alone because I didn’t trust that core you gave me God. I repent. I don’t feel alone anymore but being so vertical annoyed me because I still see to my left and to my right there aren’t enough of your beautiful children with me. It hurts. Everyone should be here. Patience and grace.

Your sacrifice is the fiduciary guarantee and promise to me. Everything that’s happening and everything that I’m feeling is all making me a better daughter.

A daughter that’s closer to you.

A daughter that just falls deeper in love with you no matter what.

A daughter that sees I truly see she loves everything she experiences because you cover me in this painful season. This fire has me unscathed and walking stronger in you despite how I feel. Because you’re the trustee that connects me. My Fiduciary representative.

I don’t have to be afraid of intimacy. You’re my lighthouse because I’ll never be lost in this sea, you illuminate everything for me. You went to death and turned on a light to tell me it’ll be okay. And it is Jesus. That’s why I’m no longer the walking dead. I no longer have to be ashamed or feel bad for deeply desiring to only be seeing, breathing and walking in the supernatural. I’ve wanted this before I understood what it was. This world was always broken, fallen and temporary to me and I never understood why I comprehend that as a child.

Because you made me that way.

You always knew I’d choose you as well. Even when I’m frustrated crying and just confused. Like last night. My bible opened to Luke 7 after I finished my Proverbs challenge for the day. You know in the end of my rants I’m running to the cross for clarity always. You wired me this way. This innate biological make up called Crysta Pamphille is bigger than me. Because I’m your vessel you’re preparing to use in a big way. Otherwise you wouldn’t trust me with what you do. Thank you for that humbling honor.

I’m no longer ashamed to be “super spiritual” yes I do take every reaction and every thought to you.

I no longer feel naked for no reason because it’s your way not my ways lord. I can’t just want you to see me if its not your will God. I said yes to you long before April 4, 2014. This fact is glaringly obvious. That’s why I couldn’t end my life. That’s why this inner war is torturous. Like Steffany Gritzinger cries out to you, I’ve been on lockdown but you always held the key. You’re unlocking me to run to you and not be afraid of intimacy. Okay Abba. Bring me out of hiding. You knew I’d be ready. Big faith.

I love you Abba.

This path called life belongs to Jesus Christ.