Posts written by Krista
I didn’t ask God for much. I wanted to get my Master’s degree in teaching, get married to a man who wasn’t a pastor, and have three kids by the time I was thirty. I wanted to live in suburbia till death do us part, and in close proximity to a Walmart. (I love a good Walmart.)
Might sound simple to you, maybe even boring, but it’s the life my heart desired to live.
…But God is (so obviously) not listening.
Continue reading I wanted a boring life (but God’s not listening)
God has a tendency of uprooting my life. Just when I feel like I can take a breath, make a friend or two, or even try to do something exceptionally nutty and try to have a baby or something, God decides to throw my eggs in the creek.
Let me explain…
Continue reading The most meaningful lesson about God (And arguably, one of the most painful)
When my life fell to pieces everyone disappeared.
My 950 friends on Facebook, pointless. My blog, a mere platform for the curious. And the women I once regarded as ‘besties’ bolted, seemingly putting their priority elsewhere and not on helping me pick up the (broken) pieces of my life.
Looking back, I needed someone to see me; to bring me a meal, to show up at my door unannounced and drag me out of bed — and on an especially bad day, to a mental hospital!
Hear me when I say, I am in no way angry or bitter. (Far from it.) In fact, I am grateful; grateful to have survived that dark time, and even more grateful to have learned such valuable lessons, not in spite of the people who failed me, but because of them.
Continue reading Lessons Learned From The People Who Failed Me
When I found out I was pregnant, they were sure I was having a miscarriage.
But we prayed. We desperately begged the Lord for a miracle and clung to His promises believing, that God’s way is perfect, and we can trust everything He does. (Psalm 18:30, Psalm 33:4)
I had written those two verses in the palm of my hand the day I went in for my ultrasound. I must have been repeating them so loudly in my head because the Ultrasound Technician nearly jolted me off the table when she took hold of my arm to point out the tiny little heartbeat, flickering away on the screen.
There was my baby, healthy as can be. (And that flickering heartbeat, is now my 5-year-old self-professed superhero whirling around me as I type.)
It was a miracle.
But this time though… this time, was different.
“Krista,” the nurse on the other line said pointedly upon me answering the phone, “You are pregnant.”
“My husband has been hiding an addiction to pornography,” she said, barely finishing her sentence before she began to cry into her hands in the dark corner of a coffee shop.
I listened as my friend wrestled with the shock and the lies, the betrayal and the shame, while memories flooded back to when my own marriage resulted in lies.
“What could I possibly say to comfort her broken heart?” I thought to myself as she cried.
“Tell her what I told you when your heart broke,” God instructed.
That’s exactly what I did, and it’s what I will do again today. I believe they are the same words God speaks over you and the current state of your heart.
Read the rest of my article HERE
To be entirely honest, I wasn’t going to write this week.
After traveling to England, Wales and the latest, Miami (…I know, random…) And after scrambling to finish an extreeeeemely vulnerable article for Newspring Church this week, I was certain I had ZERO energy or honesty left. But surprise, surprise… here I am.
But to clarify, this is more of a journal entry than a blog post. (Which is code for: I wrote this last night and didn’t edit it.)
Confession: It’s hard for me to let my daughter play in the driveway, or allow her to let go of my hand in the grocery store without so palpably, believing something is going to go terribly wrong.
I check the locks multiple times a night, and I can’t tell you the last time I spoke a dream out loud. Not because I don’t have dreams (…at least I think I still have dreams…) but because deep down a part of me believes God might shoot them down like a spiked volleyball, the moment I find the courage to speak them into existence.
— Why? Because I am jaded. I am fearful. And I am coming out of such a difficult season that was so bad for so long, that I find myself struggling to embrace the good, without looking over my shoulder anticipating the next ruthless reality, that may sneak its way in and devour everything I have worked so hard for.
And yet recently, I have felt God lovingly inviting me to do something so ludicrous that my jaded heart can barely comprehend it….
3 words that are equally terrific as they are terrifying — “Enjoy your life”
I always assumed the people – most obviously – following God, were the ones overflowing with compassion like Mother Teresa. Who were likely teaching a Sunday school class (or three) and could correctly recite at least ⅓ of the Bible from memory — and in the King James Version, of course.
But following God isn’t always as simple as memorizing Bible verses and letting the cute old man cut you in line at the grocery store. (It hasn’t been for me at least…)
Continue reading The (most unlikely) way you can know you are doing exactly what God wants
I pride myself in my resilience, my unshakeable faith and my level-headed mind.
But two years ago, I wasn’t any of those things. Two years ago, I was coming undone.
I was reminded of that time, when something popped up in my newsfeed today. A Facebook status from the past, that stopped me dead in my tracks and reminded me of my least favorite story to tell. The darkest one.
Continue reading Our least favorite story to tell (and why it’s the most significant)
I don’t know about you, but there have been times when God asks me to do something so unthinkably scary, that it has me curled up in bed and hiding under the covers. Terrified, and eating my body weight in hydrogenated oil laden snacks, in an attempt to calm the fear that is raging in my soul.
That is where I’ve found myself this week (and the potato chip crumbs dusting my keyboard as I type, are proof.)
The reason for my fear, you ask? …My husband is back in New York City.
Continue reading When God’s calling on your life makes you want to hide under the covers
Krista Ortiz 