It’s never about the place

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I was twelve years old, your typical youth group preteen girl. I was raised in the church and the thing to do once you got to Junior High was of course- to go on the Junior High mission trip.
I would be lying if I told you that I went on that trip to be the hands and feet of Christ. While I give myself grace, let’s be honest, how many 12 year old girls would go with that specific intention.But despite my blindness of Christ’s plan and will, He still did exactly what He wanted to do. I came home from that mission trip with my eyes wide and bright.

I had seen firsthand what it looked like to have nothing but to have everything because Christ is enough. Human beings living in dumps, yet singing at the top of their lungs that “Jesus is so good.”

 
Fast forward seven years, and I have been on 11 trips to this same city. I could give you a description of what I had done every single time I’ve been there in thorough detail. But to be honest, there was always one simple thing that kept taking me back to Mexico.
There was something different about this place.
 I craved the way they lived. Worship would go on for hours and people would be on their knees at the feet of Jesus begging for His presence. They would run around and dance and laugh because of the fullness of His joy. If someone was sick they would lay hands and pray- and sometimes even healing would occur in front of my own eyes. I never saw that in my local church growing up and this was the only place that I was exposed to the power of the Holy Spirit.
About a month before I left for Mexico this year, I felt this stirring of simple dissatisfaction. I didn’t have the urgency to go like I had in the past. I began to pray that this wouldn’t just be routine- and even though this would be my 11th trip- that it would be completely different. I prayed that I would know why I was going back.
I heard Jesus say to me:
“its me , It’s always been only me.”
 

It’s amazing how quickly He speaks when put ourselves in a position where we truly desire to listen.

 
As carriers of the Gospel, physical countries do not have the ability to hold our hearts. Shocking, I know. I believe God can place specific places on your heart. But He never intended for us to be so obsessed with where He has called us that we end up falling in love with a nation rather than falling in love with the God of that nation. And further- to be so obsessed with our callings that we end up falling in love with what we have been created to do rather than falling in love with the God who created US.
People often ask
 
“Why do you love Mexico so much?”
“The food, the culture, the people… what’s not to love?” I would respond with a nervous giggle.
It took 11 trips to Mexico before I realized that those were never the reason. But this was:
I felt the presence of God there more than anywhere else.
Dear Lord,
You tell us in your word that Jesus literally leaped in his mother’s womb of joy. I pray for the individual reading this, that you would birth in them a vision and purpose for their life that would be filled with this same joy. Remind us of who you are and who You have called us to be. Do not let us lose sight of the most important thing – it has always been and always will be only about you, Father. No place, no person, to thing, could ever bring us the satisfaction you created to be filled with you. 
XO, Ally

 

We Would Love To Hear From You:

1. When do you recognize/feel the presence of God the most?
2. Is it hard to recognize God working and moving in the mundane or routine parts of your life?
3. How can we be praying for you?

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