Hello Faithful Friends and
Supporters!
I hope you are all doing well
and enjoying a mild winter. Honestly, I would love to be cold right now—not
freezing—but cold sounds great. I would wear a scarf and a sweater and curl up
my hands in the sleeves and drink hot tea. I would watch the early evening
light lower between the tall, naked trees. I would listen to the quiet of crisp
air, and I would be still in my very soul.
But instead, I am here in
Portel where the heat often feel like a smothering lover. You long for space
and a refuge from it. A sacred place, but none exists.
I will take this opportunity
to be unusually candid with you. This can be a hard place to live. There are so
many demands coming from so many different directions, and you never feel “on
top of it”. It is always on top of you.
I was asking the Lord last
night, “Are you sure you picked the right person for this? Am I really cut out
for this?” And he took me to a passage in 1
Corinthians 2:3-5 where Paul states, “I came to you in weakness and fear, and
with much trembling. My message and my preaching were not with wise and
persuasive words, but with a demonstration of the Spirit’s power, so that your
faith might not rest on men’s wisdom, but on God’s power.”
The truth is that I’m not the
best missionary. I’m not like the ones you read about in books. I only have a
cup of water to give away. I am not feeding the masses. I am not saving
thousands in orphanages. The Holy Spirit doesn’t bring everyone to their knees
when I walk in the room. My service is simple and incomplete. I still have to
fight with myself. I don’t live in the place of perfect peace and perfect trust
in God. I get just as impatient waiting in line as the next person. I have
nothing to offer God. I came here in weakness and fear, and with much
trembling.
And sometimes, I feel so
spoiled. Maybe it’s just complete apathy, but the people I see everyday do not
seem to be nearly as up in arms as I am about their circumstances. They live in
the same harsh world that I do, except that often, their plight is much worse
than mine. And of course, they have nothing else to compare it to. I,
unfortunately, do. I have a whole world of luxury to juxtapose my daily
experiences. And these lost comforts call me, and I want to listen.
But I didn’t come here to be
comfortable. I can spend eternity being comfortable. I gave up comfort for a
simple dream. I wanted to see the Kingdom of Heaven. I wanted to watch God work
and move in the Earth. I wanted to see a demonstration of the Spirit’s power. But
do I have enough strength to let go of myself long enough to see it?
“But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame
the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong. He chose
the lowly things of this world and the despised things—and the things that are
not—to nullify the things that are, so that no one may boast before him.”
1Corinthians 1:27-29
I am a foolish and small and
weak thing, so I guess I’m qualified. My only hope is that in all this
emptiness, God would reveal himself. I can’t tell you how much my heart aches
daily to see the Lord. I long to see him move tangibly in the lives of those
around me. I long to see them overwhelmed and overtaken by the true lover of
their souls. I long to watch them fall in love. It is this desire that has so
directly positioned me in the place of weakness and fear.
Won’t you come with me? Won’t
you enter into the place of your own heart to find the darkness there? Won’t
you allow the light of a new hope to shine in there? Only when all other lights
are dimmed can we see the One that shines the brightest….
We die a thousand times
And then you bring us back to
life.
We die a thousand times
And then you bring us back to
life.
Dig our bodies from the grave
Take us from the sweat and
mud
Cleanse us with your
refreshing blood
Wipe the lies from our eyes
And we see for the first time
Though we rested in the belly
of destruction
You birthed us again, naked
with redemption
What mystery is this that we
could tell the story again?
What path is this that we
could share what we have learned?
Only you and I know
Only our feet walked it
together
I cannot walk it for another
Take them down the road
Lead them into the lonely
wilderness
Let them smell the fiery smokes
of hell
Let them taste the decay of
their flesh
Let them hear the whisper of
your tenderness
Let them feel the hint of
your breath
Let them sense the weight of
your presence
Take them into your arms
again
Pick them up from the miry
pit
All is new all over again
All is new all over again.
Breathe, veins pump blood.
Rich again, well again, free
for the very first time.
We die a thousand times
And then you bring us back to
life.
Love, Allison
