Christa Black

Two years I have waited.

IMG_5798For two years, Luke and I have longed to bring home our little girl, with bassinets staying empty and dainty clothes stored away.  When your body is carrying life for the majority of two years— 17 out of 24 months, to be exact—you feel an everyday ache as your arms stay empty and silence haunts the late night hours.
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I’m not a big fan of lack.

IMG_5457Especially when I believe the Jesus of abundance lives inside of me….the same Jesus that multiplied five loaves of bread and two fish to feed way over 5,000 people.

Ever since my daughter Birdie James was born two months early at 31 weeks….I heard God give me a promise—-

She will only go from glory to glory.
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For two weeks, my mom has been trying to steal me away and bless me with a mani-pedi.


IMG_5012But juggling things like practically living at the NICU with our 33 week preemie, Birdie James….trying to remain a present mother for my 3-year-old son Moses and wife for my hubby, finishing my new book and turning it in to my publisher after giving birth prematurely at 31 weeks—pumping every 3 hours day and night, all while trying to stay awake—let’s just say, my nails were just about the last thing on my list of priorities.
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I have no idea how people survive without Jesus.

IMG_4314Actually, let me be more clear.

I have no idea how people survive without EXPERIENCING Jesus—because there’s a world of difference.

The last week of my life has been soaking with encounters from a real God—interactions so tangibly clear, that my heart never left a safe harbor of peace, even as the fear could have been rising up to choke me—especially after losing our little Luca Gold just a little over a year ago.
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Here I am….laying in this hospital bed at 4:28 am, listening to the beeping of my heart monitor, and the treasure of my IMG_3987daughter’s heart beating loudly through the speaker beside me–believing with every fiber of my being that both hearts will continue to beat, despite the amniotic fluid that began leaking out of my womb today.
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As I opened my eyes Saturday morning in a hotel room in Houston, Texas, I heard Father begin whispering to my heart, “Hey girl, instead of turning on the finale of Top Chef that you’d planned on finishing, let’s chat a bit.”

il_340x270.597821508_bzvpKnowing I had been entrusted with the hearts of a room full of women later that morning at the church that brought me in, I quickly shut my computer, pulled my covers up close around my chin, and cuddled in close to the chest of my Father.
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Heeeeeeey friend! It's 2012.
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