Christa Black

“Oh death, where is your sting?  My resurrected King has rendered you defeated!”  -Forever, by Kari Jobe

Screen Shot 2014-12-04 at 10.22.48 PM(Written by Kari Jobe, Brian Johnson, Jenn Johnson, Gabriel Wilson, Joel Taylor, Christa Black Gifford)


I remember the first time I tried to sing those words at my daughter Luca’s memorial service on March 7, choking and gasping for breath as if I’d swallowed poison, yet fighting to declare truth with what little strength I had left.
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When I sat down last night to try and make a requested Christmas list for family members to order from, I had a tough time. design I didn’t really need anything, let alone want anything (other than a house!), and figured that might not fit on Santa’s sleigh, or in the realm of most people’s Christmas budgets.
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When I posted a blog called Here’s My Problem, Oprah on Sunday afternoon, I knew I was going to kick up some dust.  oprahAfter all, most of my deepest heart-wounds in ministry have come from Christian family members who have appointed themselves as Jesus policemen, patrolling the lives of complete strangers on the Internet and citing religious tickets, with zero attempt for understanding through relationship.
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Last Friday night, I got a text from a dear friend working The Life You Want Weekend, asking me if I wanted to have an opportunity to get in the same FullSizeRenderroom with the most influential woman in the world:  Oprah Winfrey.
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After writing the blog about the healing center on Monday, I woke up on Tuesday morning to a completely full email inbox—story after story of Screen Shot 2014-11-09 at 8.55.03 PMbroken hearts who had lost loved ones, longing for a place that they could retreat and heal—and the gravity of the Gold Monarch Healing Center set in.
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Los Angeles beat the wind out of my sails in 2013.

Screen Shot 2014-11-09 at 8.55.10 PMRepeated difficulties brought a constant fire that burned with such heat, it kept exposing all sorts of nasty things still at war within my heart—anger issues, deep hurts, relational disasters—and before I knew it, disappointment and betrayal had piled up into a mountain that I just couldn’t seem to climb on my own.
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Heeeeeeey friend! It's 2012.
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