The Jesus Gypsy

Category: published

  • BREATH MY ONLY BOUNDARY

    BREATH MY ONLY BOUNDARY

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    by

    Christine
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    HI Y’ALL! I appreciate all your sweet messages and thanks for checking on me. In answer to the two questions I get asked most: YES I am still writing and YES I am still in seminary. In fact, I have been writing up a storm and am set to graduate in May. And in addition…

  • WAIT

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    by

    Christine
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    a poem about suffering and what it means to W A I T what I wouldn’t give to rise from this window seat of longing and brave my way into the gray and through the gray to part the veil that obscures life from Light drown this sorrow in your river; crystal, to its verdant…

  • How My Fear Became Faith

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    by

    Christine
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    Fear was my father’s favorite game and one I learned to play at four years old. With gleaming green eyes and a wicked sense of humor, my father was a force. His family had always been trouble and trash, but he was equally handsome and charming. My mother met and married him in a whirlwind,…

  • On Courage & Community

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    by

    Christine
    in

    In case you missed the big announcement in my last post, I recently had an article published in Fathom Magazine in which I share how I learned the importance of developing close community and how vital it is to reach out for help in our seasons of suffering. I hope that you might take a…

  • I Owe You an Apology

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    by

    Christine
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    Actually, I owe you two. Shall we begin? (1) Please forgive me for being MIA for the past few several months. As you might remember, I am currently working on getting my master’s and, as it turns out, seminary is very much the opposite of easy. I am loving the courses though and—God willing—will graduate…

  • no laughing matter (although it IS pretty funny now)

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    by

    Christine
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    I thought I would re-share this little gem in honor of the 5th anniversary of this debacle. It is a crowd favorite and has even been picked up for publication a number of times. Now, with so many years separating us from the actual event, I can’t help but crack up at it all (except…

  • good friday

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    by

    Christine
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    Good Friday Who am I, that you’d suffer and die That your innocent blood would let So that I’d be redeemed and now be free To be the person I am not yet The nails that pierced your hands and feet Were my sins you chose to bear Beaten and bruised on my behalf With…