
Christine Malkemes
Wife, Mother, Minister, Retired Army Officer
Christine has been called honey, mom, daughter, sister, Ma’am, and pastor. But her most treasured title is the Child of God. Her passion is to see women amazed by knowing God intimately. You can’t tell it by looking at her today, but once she was lost, alone, hopeless, helpless, and homeless. But today she’s on the journey to the heart of God – a deeper Christian life. She called to make the invisible visible.
Below you will find a poem called “Life” that tells my story in another way.
How it Happened:
Hi! This is Christine (my friends call me Chris). I’ve been a Christian for over 45 years, but my first twenty years felt like a roller coaster ride as I tried to commit and re-commit my life to Christ. Honestly, we had a long-distant relationship. Then one day I couldn’t take it anymore and relinquished all rights to Christ. It was a simple prayer: “Lord, You must become more and me less.”
He answered that prayer and I’ve started on the journey to the heart of God. Whispered Words is a blog for you if you want to grow in your faith and come to know God by name.
Will you join me?

Life
Life.
The word sits there so benign.
Memories like snapshots flip through
The inner recesses of my mind.
The run-down shack.
Water flowing from a creek out back.
Arizona sunshine bursting off mountain oak.
Wood burning stove releasing morning smoke.
Momma’s tip money fills our bodies lean
Biscuits, potatoes, and beans.
So many children in one bed.
Eight from head to head.
White bread hidden in the cupboard high.
Momma’s husband breathes a sigh.
Hush little children, don’t you cry.
He’ll be gone by and by.
Momma sleeps the night shift away.
Braided hair, slipped on shoes, in a hushed way.
Close the crooked door to this world.
Kittens on the couch curled.
Walking a two-mile dirt road for the bus
School, an escape for us.
Jostled, dirty and spat upon.
Silenced by such wicked fun.
Hush little children, “Don’t you cry.”
It will all be over by and by.
One breathes a heavy sigh.
Wondering, “Why?”
Days pass into weeks and weeks into years.
The children grow up moving from fear to fears.
With barefoot feet, one runs away
No void is felt in the fray.
With one look the mean streets take her in.
Piled on her head sin after sin.
Pain added to her familiar feel of fear.
Only in the dark, you see a tear.
“God if you’re real, you’ll get me out of here!”
She screamed to the past and crystal blue air.
Silence. Silence. Silence. Was the reply.
Falling down she cried, “Why?”
In the unknown world of love.
The prayer traveled to places above.
With a lifted head of His dear Son.
Whispered answer, “I’ll be the one.”
Angels sent to her side.
On a plane, she did ride.
At O’Hare, she landed sweet.
Into her Uncle’s arms, she did meet.
Takes her home to rest her head.
Days she sleeps in the given bed.
Prayers lifted up for her keep.
Jesus met her in her sleep.
Lifting her weary head
And into her heart He said,
“Never will I leave you; Never will I forsake you.”
He removed her fear, pain, and darkness too.
The rest is history.
That child was me.
A yielded heart I did receive.
This daughter sweet He’ll never leave.
Life.
The word sits there so benign.
Memories like snapshots flip through
The inner recesses of my mind