about
Christine is a poet, songwriter, and theology geek. She loves to explore the challenging truths of the upside-down Kingdom through art, story, and humor. Her passion for welcoming everyone to the table to experience Jesus fuels her advocacy for the forsaken and forgotten and drives her studies at Dallas Theological Seminary and work through her ministry, The Holy Shift.
Christine lives in Central Texas with her two furbabies (one sinner and one saint). She’s an awkward-conversations enthusiast and loves anything that takes place outdoors or requires words.
Christine has been featured in Fathom Magazine, Devotion Magazine, Renewed Magazine, and Shout! You can also find & follow her on Twitter or Instagram. Speaker and publication inquiries here.
I love a good story.
For as long as I can remember, I have always loved to lose myself in music, books, and stories. I love the freedom that the written and spoken word gives us—the freedom to feel deeply or live bravely or just be someone else for a while. Even as a child, I always had my ears in headphones, my nose in a book, and my mind in another world altogether.
And I have always loved to write; short stories, long stories, poetry, songs. Writing has always been the way I grapple and cope and heal. And because it is so balming to me, it has always been my private thing. It is my safe place—the refuge to which I run to bleed my angst upon a keyboard or cry out wholly to my comforter. So when God asked me to write down my story, I did so gladly. But then when he asked me to share it, I balked. Because when I write, it is the one place where I am totally and utterly honest. It is the one place where I tell the truth about what I really feel, where I really struggle, and who I really am. And to share that with anyone else goes against all I know.
See, we moved around like gypsies growing up (I am currently living in my 40th house and the number of years I have lived barely exceeds the number of times I have moved.) Such a tumultuous upbringing meant always being the new kid and gave me ample opportunity to finely hone my talent of walking into a room, assessing what people want/need from me, and becoming whatever that is in order to earn my place in their world. Writing (especially for his glory and not my comfort) asks the opposite of me. It means tearing off the mask and telling the truth of who I am; the whole story, all the dark chapters too.
Frankly, I am terrified. We live in a world bursting with lies, where truth is not always welcome and vulnerability is not always handled with compassion. But every time I dare to trust God and make the choice to be seen as just me—the very me I have always been convinced is not enough—he is glorified. Because my story, just like yours, is the story of the gospel. It is the story of failure and forgiveness, of refining and redemption, of healing and hope. And I believe—because he promised it so—that it is through our very brokenness that his redemption dares to shine.