Hi, I'm Christelle

I dreaded writing this piece, though I felt the nudge to write about Holy Week. How does one speak of the Word made flesh? No descriptor feels strong enough. No words feel right. So I decided the best I could do was write from the heart—and hope it lands. So, there we go. I was disgusting—filthy, gross beyond recognition—and worse, I enjoyed it. I was lost. You knew it. I knew it. Yet the filth didn’t bother me; the pigpen enticed me. I yearned for it. The wind of the world s

Have you ever found yourself in a situation where your righteousness didn’t seem covered by divine protection? Where you felt caught in an impasse—not just questioning why a season was prolonged, but questioning God’s reasoning for allowing it in the first place? I have. Maybe for you, it was something meaningful—a resource, your health, a ministry—something you were faithfully using to serve the Kingdom. And then, in what felt like an instant, it slipped through your fingers

Recently, my church embarked on a 21-Day fast- a public dedication of a personal devotion to God. During fasting seasons like this one, we’re encouraged to write a prayer list. Not quite a yearly resolution, and certainly better than manifestation, it’s an intentional entrusting of the desires of our hearts to an ever-near Abba.  It’s not wishful thinking. It’s the activation of faith and power.  Faith that God is more than able.  Power to ask and believe that He will move.