Most of us think of Germany when we remember Christina's life. All she had to do was to open her mouth and you knew she was from somewhere else. Christina was actually born in Lesna, Poland, to a single mom and put up for adoption. Her mother had married Polish GI and moved north from Romania after World War II. The newly married couple took it upon themselves to adopt Christina.
But all was not well. Christina's father was an alcoholic and Poland suffered under the privations of a communist regime. There were long lines to buy basic necessities, such as bread and meat. At one point, someone denounced her mother for criticizing the government and she spent time in jail.
Meanwhile, Christina's grandmother had moved from Romania to West Germany and was in ill health. Her mother applied for permission to visit, but the authorities told her she had to leave her daughter Christina behind. This she refused to do in light of her husband's alcoholism. While some people said this would never happen, the communist government gave Christina's mother papers so that she could travel to West Germany -- with her daughter!
So it was that Christina left Poland at the age of 5; she and her mother remained in West Germany until her grandmother recovered from her illness. When they began packing to make the return trip to Poland, Christina threw a temper tantrum and said she didn't want to go back. Both received refugee status and were allowed to stay.
Immediately Christina felt the sting of prejudice, when a school teacher referred to her as one of those "stupid Pollacks." Her mother soon remarried a British soldier and the newly reconstituted family adjusted to life in West Germany. Suffice it to say that Christina's stepfather turned out to be a sexual predator. She suffered physical and emotional abuse from both parents over the next 11 years until she left home at the age of 16.
From there her life took a further downward spiral. She became involved in the drug scene, at one point smuggling hashish from Morocco to Germany. When she became pregnant, her boyfriend pressured her to have an abortion. One would think there was no hope for this lost, lonely soul.
But God hadn’t GIVEN UP ON CHRISTINA.…
While living in West Berlin, Christina bumped into some Christians who were operating a coffee shop. There she found the love and acceptance she had always craved. After a period of soul-searching she embraced Jesus' sacrifice on the cross as the ultimate truth and experienced forgiveness and healing. Later she enrolled in a Bible school affiliated with Christ for the Nations, despite her mother's threat to disown her if she didn't pursue a career. The following three years proved to be life-changing, as she grew in faith, lived in community, and gained weight, thanks to the food rich in carbs and fat that the Bible school dished out to its protesting European students.
Several years passed before Christina moved to Munich and found a steady job. She began teaching Sunday School in a local church and participating in the singles' group that met on Friday nights. She became known as a carefree, unconventional, free spirit, unbound by the German traditions of perfectionism and formality.
I first met Christina in church back in 1988 -- but she was in the arms of another man. First it was Ronald, then Michael, and I've lost track of her other boyfriends. I think I was Number Five. We started dating and I soon felt the spark that led to a life-long commitment. Because our wedding was bilingual, everything took twice as long, leading to complaints from our secular friends that the service shouldn't have taken two hours! I soon learned that women don't travel like men do. When we flew to the States for a vacation and some job-related training, Christina brought 13 separate parcels with us! Fortunately, the airlines weren't as strict in those days. We spent our next posting in Equatorial Guinea, Africa, a land where snakes suddenly emerged from toilets, rat meat was sold in the local market, and occasionally you could see one of the locals being caned inside a bamboo hut for some real or imagined offense. Christina learned to cohabit with cockroaches and night guards who would sing loudly outside our bedroom window when they weren't sober. Despite the hardships, I don't remember her ever complaining except for one time when we had returned from the beach, our bodies sprinkled with sand and drying saltwater, and the water had been shut off. Showering off was thus out of the question at least for a few hours.
Honestly, our first seven years of married life were challenging. The trauma of Christina's childhood had bubbled up to the surface, causing frequent outbursts of fierce anger. For my part, I was still learning how to be a good husband. Over time we learned to talk things out and ask the good Lord to heal the hurts of the past. It took time, but Christina conquered her anger, forgave her parents, and realized she didn't have to be bound by the past.
After a year of marriage, Christina became pregnant, an occasion for great joy for both of us. Since there wasn't a single prenatal clinic on the island where we lived, she had to travel to Cameroon in between anti-government riots for her checkups. We left Africa when Christina was 7 months pregnant, just before the cutoff date when the airlines would no longer allow her to travel, and spent the next 2 years in Virginia. Christina loved the U.S. and probably would have been content never to leave. Neither one of us could have anticipated that we had 2 more postings in Europe, 3 in Africa, and 1 in Mexico ahead of us. As a homebody, Christina didn't like to move every 2-to-3 years but I don't remember her complaining about that. Somehow she adapted wherever we went, raised five children, and spent a typical hour or more fixing a multi-course supper every evening. When we went to church, Christina would often share a word from the Lord that dove-tailed nicely with the sermon that followed. She would spend hours reading her heavily worn Bible, then tell me about what she had learned when I got home. Sometimes she would apologize afterward for preaching at me.
Christina was amazingly well organized, always providing for the family's needs. She loved the outdoors and we were able to convey that same love to our kids. A family hike was mandatory every weekend regardless of the weather. A German couple who once accompanied us on an Alpine hike marveled at the provisions Christina had packed for the hike. Whether it was food, drink, a spare diaper, or wipies, Christina remembered to bring it all.
We were opposites in many ways. I liked action: the hustle and bustle of city life, skiing, going to musical events, and having people over for dinner. An introvert, Christina liked peace and quiet, rest, and long periods of contemplation. I liked to save money; Christina liked to spend it. Man, could she shop! By God's grace we were able to appreciate our differences and stick together in spite of them.
During her 8-month-long battle with leukemia, Christina's faith in God's goodness never wavered. She continued to believe a miracle would happen right up until the end; any talk about death was taboo. As her strength faded, she still devoted herself to Bible reading and watching her favorite Christian television broadcasts. She never lost her feisty nature, either. About two weeks before she passed away, I called her at Memorial Hospital from the office. She exclaimed, "I'm tired. Get right to the point!"
Although she is no longer with us in body, her legacy will live on our hearts forever. We will always remember the wonderful meals she prepared, her outreach to many elderly neighbors and immigrants, her love for God's Word, her abundant, colorful clothing, and her spunk. I'm especially grateful for the 31 years that I knew her, 29 of them as her husband. Thank you, Lord, for taking a life that had been profoundly damaged and making something beautiful out of it. Thank you, Lord, for the incredible gift that was Christina Bluhm.
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