Christine Rhyner

Meet Christine

Christine Rhyner is an adoption advocate, mother to two internationally adopted children and a Christian "work in progress." She writes about infertility, reproductive technologies, adoption and personal experience. Her debut book, "How much did you pay for her?

New Book

SCRIPT-FLIPS: Clips from Heaven & Hell on Earth And Why They Matter Shakespeare summed it up in “All the World’s a Stage.” We are performers. We play inquisitive child, seeking student, restless, young adult, employee, parent, and so on. While our life stories play out...


Read about Christine's Journey: I love to write nonfiction because people are always curious, seeking...and struggling as they open the doors life presents to them. It is my passion to examine God's word and allow the Holy Spirit to illuminate its meaning and application to daily life in my work.

My Book

How Much Did You Pay For Her? Understanding why people say what they do is the first step toward compassion, as it allows us to glimpse another s perspective. This can lead to giving others grace an undeserved gift of letting people off the hook for what they say that eventually leads us to forgive them.

Recent Posts

Friday, March 17, 2017


God’s unfathomable love for us beckons us to engage in a spiritual relationship with Him as Heavenly Partner. To truly fall in love is for the mind to cease to whir and turn. Limbs rest from laboring to do, to accomplish, to prove. Eyes are only for Him, turning away from the treasures of this world. The presence and voices of people recede so that our budding desire for our new love captures us so completely, it is as if we are the only two that exist.

Like any fledgling relationship, quality time with our Creator and Saviour is important so that we can hear His affirming whispers to our hearts. We begin to comprehend who He is, how He will care for us through what He tells us He values and loves. Slowly our trust in Him builds as He fills the empty space in us, made just for Him, our true Soulmate. With great peace and joy we delight in knowing that He finds us worthy, beautiful, not lacking in any way despite our imperfections, struggles and flaws—those broken places in us we tentatively confide in Him. With great compassion, mercy and understanding He says, “Tell me more,” though He already knows us completely.

He opens a whole new world to us. Though He can choose anyone, He has chosen us! And we begin to perceive Him as more than our Knight in shining armor. He is our mighty Warrior that will protect, defend and fight all of our battles with enemies that come against us, demons that oppress, the trouble He says we will still face in the world even as He walks beside us.

He opens wide His arms, inviting us into an exquisite palette of colors, and we step forth into His radiance where He embraces us, sings over us. He places a crown upon our heads and we become His bride, His family. He clothes us in the finest of raiment and our scarlet is changed into the purest white. Our ears are filled with laughter like the joy of a thousand children. Singing, so lovely, it makes us both laugh and cry breaks forth from the heavens as His angels rejoice over us. Our new love quiets us with assurances that the place we have been longing for all our lives is in eternity with Him. He tells us He has already prepared that place for us and it is something so magnificent our eyes cannot fathom it, and our ears have but heard a sampling of its wondrous melody. And there, we will live and praise Him forever.  

The Colors of a Writer
Friday, March 10, 2017

As a writer of faith, I pray like so many others about the words I want to appear on a blank screen. As I have slogged through a current nonfiction project, I have urged God to give me more writing time, better marketing skills, thousands of words per day and bright ideas when I feel like I’ve got nothing original to say.

Yet, the pace with which I have struggled to push through each sentence of this work in progress has more often than not been like laps in a pool filled with gelatin.

Of course, God wants us to ask Him for things. Matthew 7:7: “Ask and it shall be given you…” and 21:22: “If you believe, you will receive whatever you ask for in prayer,” are but a few of many verses in which we are told it is okay to both ask and get.

Yet all of my prayers wanting God to be about the business of giving to me what I want finally resulted in a word from Him. 

“Ask me to change you.”

It shot straight to my heart and spirit. I realized that I had been spending time me-focused, and had allowed myself to be pushed by a tidal wave that thrust me back to a shore of jagged, painful rocks instead of out into deep waters where He calls. I was reminded of those chastised in the book of Hebrews: “ are slow to need someone to teach you the elementary truths of God’s word all over again. You need milk, not solid food!” 6:11-12.

Self-absorption when things don’t go my way can put me in the way of God and what He wants to accomplish in me. It is far more important that I be made in the likeness of His Son Jesus Christ than get what I like.


Change in me the red-hot anger that can flare for words that do not come when I want them to, for distractions and interruptions to my writing that don’t seem to end—so that I am a woman of peace.

Change in me the dull, grey skies of doubt and discouragement that I am not good enough—so that I cling to Your hope.

Change in me the swampy green envy for the magic that seems to flow from the hearts and minds and through the fingertips of other writers who are more mature in faith and craft than I—so that I admire and learn.

Change in me the inky blue days when I give up and refuse to write a word—so that I am willing.

Change in me the black void of mindless time soaking up political rancor, junk TV and rejection that comes from the father of lies—so that I may hear Your voice.

Change in me the scarlet of my sins that bleeds into and obscures truth—so I may share wisdom.

Change these colors so that my sins be as white as snow. Allow me to reflect your light as brilliant and pure as that of morning sunlight dazzling off a fresh snowfall.

And as God breaks the power of all these oppressive strongholds over me and changes me:

He will help me focus on my readers with the necessary empathy required to write for them.

He will remove from me the fear of being vulnerable and flawed and share my stories honestly.

He will allow my manuscript to grow as I grow in the grace and knowledge of Jesus Christ.

He will show me how to demonstrate in words a pushing past struggles, conflict and the stuff of life to victory through Christ, to Him be the glory.

He will fill me-centered places with His peace, joy and laughter in the writing process, refreshing my soul in the arid desert of writer’s block.

He will make my spirit willing to sustain me through the discipline of using the gift He has given to me.

He will give to me so much more than I ask for or deserve.

Recommended Resource: Pulling Down Strongholds, Derek Prince

Camp Fear
Sunday, October 09, 2016


  1. Camp Poverty: A sprawling, dirt site with cramped, ripped tents and broken, makeshift supplies strewn about. These campers fear and attack one another to protect what little they have. As they look beyond felled trees and a rocky incline towards other campers’ sites they think maybe those enjoying nicer views and better stuff are partly to blame for their lack. Maybe there is some truth to this. Yet deeper than the roots of the weeds that surround them is their fear that if they don’t do what they have always done, what scraps they have will be taken, then something terrible will happen. It’s what they have always been told and stubbornly continue to believe.   

  1. Camp PC: This camp enjoys the company it keeps inside its comfortable, attractive tents and the lovely views around them. The site is clean and looks good. So does its campers. They take long walks with trim bodies, preferring to forage around the plant life and trees for food rather than kill any of the creatures they adore. They can be polite with other sites, but when they zip up at night they are most happy to be amongst themselves and they wonder…Why don’t all the campers at all the sites think like us? They firmly believe what they think are the best thoughts for all. Maybe laws should be made to get others to think just like them. Yet, deep within, they fear someone or something that may challenge those thoughts, and gone will be the right and acceptance that has blossomed for those thoughts to be so enjoyed. 

  1. Camp Establishment: This site is the oldest yet nicest. From atop a lush, beautiful hill and perfumed shade trees sit routinely replaced, spacious and well-appointed tents set before a prime view of the glory that surrounds them. Runners fetch their choice of fruits and fish and meat. They are content, well fed and enjoy the nicest supplies and a collection of toys with which to play. But they are vigilante to make sure that nobody soils or spoils or changes a thing about their camp. It’s deeply rooted in tradition and principle. What they fear is that if they don’t do what they’ve always done they will lose their view, the lush spot upon which they have parked themselves, and their tents and toys and the traditions and principles they clutch. They are afraid to admit the traditions and principles have been designed to move about, through the runners even, to spread good news across the entire site out through the forest and beyond where they can grow into actions and causes that bloom into good fruit for all to enjoy.

  1. Camp Change: This campsite is modest, yet comfortable and it is grateful for what it does have. Yet it wonders where everyone has gone. For, many of them do remember this site from decades ago when their tent was the “go to” spot, filled with throngs of campers who came together. Now there are so many divided camps that do not want to come by or gather with them. They try and reach out and encourage them about a great leader on the way to make the whole campsite great again. Camp Change loves the site, the lake and forest but they are afraid. They wonder if their numbers will completely evaporate, or if they will be overrun by the other campsites that have become so much larger than they can ever remember. Surely, the man will rule the entire site and make things right again.

  1. Camp Checked Out: This camp is large, yet secluded with a tall fence that blocks off the winds of change and the view of and noises of other campers. They wear rose-colored glasses and play loud party tunes. They’re so distracted by fun and humor and pretty things, they don’t think they’re missing anything. In fact, if they catch a glimpse of the other sites they dive back deeper into their own colorful, entertaining and protected camp. At night, as sounds of Camp Poverty fighting, PC sighing, Establishment grumbling and Change chanting waft through the air, they zip up their tents tight and raise their music louder so they won’t have to hear a thing. And they try not to think about the other sites but simply wait for all the noise to cease. Surely it will blow over and everything will get straightened out so other sites will have some fun too.

  1. Camp Warning: A tidy, maintained site, Warning is diverse but small. It is the most self-sufficient of all the sites and stores up reserves with care. Many can identify with Camp Change and some even agree about the man it eagerly waits for. Those that do, believe their God has sent the man for such a time as this and will bless him and through this blessing, bless the entire site once again. Others strongly disagree and put their hope in the One that made the man as the only One able to redeem the entire site. And that’s where unity has been lost in Camp Warning. While half of its campers warn against opposing the man, the other half opposes trusting in the man. Both groups are afraid. The first half is afraid something will block the coming of the man and all hope will be lost. The latter half fears an awful time to come if every human in each camp refuses to release its anger, or lofty thoughts, or principles, or distractions, or idolatry. They routinely sound the alarm to the other sites and warn them of impending danger unless they collectively cry out not to the man but to the One who made this man. When they are not warning, they are praying for the other sites and singing praises. Like bits of confetti are truths spread by Camp Warning over the other sites. But these are ignored, scoffed at or angrily rejected with shotgun blasts from Camp Poverty, ground in heels and nastier grimaces by Camp Establishment, the brooms of Camp PC, fingers pointing to the clouds by Camp Change & some of their own, and louder music from Camp Checked Out.