Love God and Do What You Want.

Love God and do what you want. 

This was a phrase my team said a lot while we were in Kenya. 

Brit and I, as leaders wanted them to realize the freedom they have in Christ

and so we would always say this tiny little phrase at least a million times a day. 

Though it is a tiny phrase, it is full of power. 

These seven words have the power to revolutionize someone's life. 

They have revolutionized mine, and I've seen first hand the freedom these words carry. 

Once again, I find it rippling through my thoughts on a daily basis. 

I have a choice to make, and it needs to happen now. 

And lately I feel like I've gotten caught up in the mechanics of things

and I've forgotten just how much freedom I have. 

I've spent countless hours this past week trying to figure out my future.

I've been running around, trying to figure out what His will is and where I should go.

"What do I do, God? 

Where do I go?

What if I miss out on something amazing?

What if I give up something amazing? 

What if I just get stuck here?

What if I'm never here again?

What if I mess something up because of my bad decision?

What if I am living out of my flesh?

What do I doooo??"

This is a fairly solid look into my thoughts the past few days. 

And I can't help but look at what I just typed and laugh because all that comes to me is a fun little melody made up by one of my Kenya girls. 

"Do what you wanna do, don't do what you don't wanna doooooo."

Ultimately that's what I feel like God is saying to me. 

To do what I want. 

And what I want is scary. 

I don't know how this is going to work out. 

I don't know if it will.

Once again, I feel like Peter. 

Get out of the boat, Allison.

Okay God, you got it. 

Why am I so bent on figuring out if I'm going to sink or not? 

I just need to love God and do what I want. 

Even Then.

"For the mountains may move and the hills may disappear, but even then my faithful love for you will remain. My covenant of blessing will never be broken."

Sometimes I forget the promises of God are real. 

It's easy to read these words and hear them. 

But to believe is a different thing entirely. 

I've been promised a lot of things in my life, 

and many of them have fallen through. 

But that's how life is, right?

People fail us. 

But how many times has God failed me?

Sure, there have been moments when I've felt as though God failed me.

I've thrown a proverbial middle finger to the sky and given up on things before their full potential was reached. 

But even then, after I've given up all hope, He still comes through. 

Every time.

I have a lot of promises from the Lord that have been spoken over me. 

A lot of things that I keep locked away in my heart. 

But none of them have quite the same affect as the one at the top of the page. 

Even when my world crumbles. 

Even when the mountains are chiseled to dust and the hills are gone. 

Even when I feel like I don't know who I am anymore. 

Even when I feel overwhelmed by the past-paced city life around me. 

Even when I am a hot mess. 

Even THEN, He is faithful.

His love is faithful. 

 Even then, the covenant, the promise to continually bless me will stand. 

And that my friends, 

is a promise worth giving my life for. 

My Identity Was Put Away With My Backpack.

It feels like it's been years since I've actually sat down to write out my heart. 

In reality, it's only been a couple months. 

Still, here I am. 

With everything to say and no words to say it. 

I've been home for almost four months. 

That'll officially be the longest I have been in one place for the last two years of my life. 

I suppose you could say I've been a little restless lately. 

I am content with where I am, I am my normal, joyful self most days.

But I can't seem to ever shut my brain off. 

I'm constantly daydreaming of far off lands where I can pour in and love people. 

I dream of walking the streets in Thailand, speaking life over everyone I come in contact with.

I dream of squad leading one of the upcoming World Race squads. 

I dream of leading another Passport trip. 

I dream of leaving Canada for longer than I did last time. 

Being home has been incredible in so many ways. 

I can't even begin to describe how much favour has been poured out on me in this season. 

But home is a scary concept for me. 

I have a big girl job that I can't just quit.

I have bills that tie me down.

People are relying on me to be here. 

In Calgary. 

And I don't know if I'm ready to be here. 

Here scares me. 

And my usual reaction to things that scare me is to run. 

Run as far and as fast as I can. 

I've ran from everything hard in my life. 

On the race, I couldn't physically run, so I would mentally escape through the back door.

Check out before anyone even realized what I was doing. 

And I realized today, I do the exact same thing here. 

I don't know how to live in Canada anymore.

I don't know what it's like to be a "normal" Canadian. 

Sure, I go through the motions and can function day to day just fine. 

But on the inside, I feel like I'm wandering through someone else's life. 

Most days, I feel like a foreigner in my own country.

I mean, I still get excited about ice cubes and washing machines. 

So I check out. 

I dream of places far, far away. 

Places that may be uncomfortable physically, but are more comfortable spiritually and emotionally. 

And that's when it hit me. 

The reason I look up every trip imaginable is because I'm more comfortable living overseas than am here. 

I know missions.

I can do missions.

But I don't know how to do home.

I know who World Race Allison is.

I know who Passport Leader Allison is. 

I don't know who Home Allison is yet. 

And instead of trying to find a way to build in and really set roots, 

I've been clawing through everyone's best intentions to get on the next flight out of here. 

I guess what I'm trying to say is that I don't want to run anymore. 

I know that I am called to missions. 

I know eventually I'll be in Thailand, or China, or Africa, or Europe. 

But right now, I need to spend time figuring out who the hell I am without a backpack.