Lazarus of Bethany

This is an excerpt from a book I’ve been reading recently. The author, Jane Rubietta, is referring to the life, death, and life-again miracle of Lazarus in Scripture. I just love how her illustration takes the story of Lazarus and connects it to the miracle Jesus performs in our own lives.

Crazy…You’re raised from the dead (Lazarus) and get a price on your head. Your life will mess with their minds, and faith, their preconceived notions and blocks. When God sets you free from your death, when you stagger from the tomb and friends unwrap the linen strips, not every guest seeing the spectacle will be supportive. Whatever your resurrection…healing old wounds, banishing depression, new life in relationships, a rebuilt dream, a new joy… when you change in response to life, the people around you will also change.

Your life forces them to question their own choices, to reevaluate their own encounters with, or avoidances of, the Author of Life. And their experience of your resurrection, of life coming forth from death, challenges them in their own death places, in the dark caves of their heart, where pain turns to rotting stench. People will fight against the life in you. Hold fast to that life. And pray for those who do not want to careen from their cave and learn to dance in new life, who do not want to dance the victory jig where life wins out over death. Don’t lose hope for them. At their deepest level, their greatest longing battles with their greatest fear, but Christ can triumph, as He did with you.

– Jane Rubietta, Come Closer

Encouraged? Check out Come Closer. It’s totally worth $11.89.

Hold on to hope. Our God has set you free from your death. Dance a jig. It’s okay if people are watching.

love, allison

He is before all things

He is before all things, and in him all things hold together.

Colossians 1:17

This is the Scripture my friends Chandler and Jaime highlighted at their Lynchburg wedding on Saturday. It was beautiful. She was beautiful. Christ was magnified. And that was beautiful.

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Their vows, taken from Ephesians 5:22-33:

Jaime, I promise to lead you in life, just as Christ leads the Church. I promise to love you with my whole being, just as Christ loves the Church. I promise to deny myself, by giving of myself, just as Christ gave himself up for the Church. I promise to submit to you out of reverence for Christ. I promise to adore, cherish, and respect you for the rest of my life. I promise to never break the covenant that God has established between us today.

Chandler, I promise to follow you, just as the Church should follow Christ. I promise to submit to you, as an act of submission to the Lord. I promise to love you with all that I am. I promise to deny myself by giving of myself. I promise to honor, love and respect you for the rest of my life. I promise to never break the covenant that God has established between us today.

They’re so in love. With Christ. With each other.

The newlyweds plan to live in Lynchburg for a couple of years while Chandler works on seminary, then they’ll head to the mission field full-time. They both worked in and loved orphanages in Uganda, Chandler during college summers, Jaime in the two-year IMB Journeyman program. One day soon they’ll call Africa home. Aren’t they just perfect for one another? It’s sick.

I was a proud sister at the wedding, too. My brother, Eric, performed his first ceremony. He’s been ordained for a couple of years now, but Chandler asked if he’d get licensed to officiate their big day. There are few things cooler for Eric than to marry one of his high school friends to the girl of his dreams. Chandler totally married up. And Eric and Jennifer couldn’t have been happier for them, even though Jennifer could barely lift her arms after skiing Liberty University’s Snowflex the night before.

It was great to see my parents, too. They made the trek from their coastal town to share in the celebration. Dad just got some sweet new glasses; he was so proud to show them off. Pretty trendy, huh? He picked them out all by himself. (Pat on back, Dad.) Miraculously, we all stopped talking and catching up with one another long enough to snap the most recent Barbour family photo. The post-thunderstorm humidity does great things for curled hair. Jennifer and I can personally attest to the crown of frizzies that immediately encircled our faces. Mom’s hair and Dad’s lack-thereof fared remarkably well.

All in all, a great weekend celebration, frizzies, sore arms and all.

Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Sharpe. We love you. We’re proud of you. We’re praying for a lifetime of happiness and many African babies.

love, allison

country girl

I love the country. Even if I’m not country-fied.

Friday I had the chance to visit my family’s land in the deep mountains of Virginia. Floyd is in the sticks;  in fact, the 2000 U.S. Census reported a population of less than 500. In recent years, Floyd’s “downtown” has been transformed into an artist’s paradise, and the Friday Night Jamboree at the Floyd Country Store we went to as kids is more popular now than ever. The town is part of a counter-culture movement; lots of galleries, music venues, all-natural and handmade goods, the whole nine. The mix of old and new (and weird and really weird) is hilarious. Downtown is now hub of people and activity. I’ve never seen so many cars in this sleepy town that until a couple of years ago boasted only a Hardees, a Subway, and two stoplights.

My trip wasn’t about scoping out the newest and neatest stuff downtown, I really went to visit my family’s property which is leased by farmers who grow corn and raise beef cattle. The land is beautiful (400+ acres), about 15 minutes from downtown. It’s where my  my Pop, my mom’s dad, humbly grew up with his 5 siblings, 2 parents, and little else.

This visit was sweet. After hopping the locked fence and ignoring the TRESPASSING sign, I walked the dirt paths, splashed in the creek, listened to lots of songbirds, and saw plenty of deer tracks. The air was crisp, the sky a little cloudy, the breeze blew through the fields like a scene from Lion King; it literally couldn’t have been more perfect. I picked a flower to wear in my hair. A purple iris. My great-grandmother grew them outside of her house before it burned down many, many moons ago. It’s amazing the bulbs still bloom after all these years; and it’s equally amazing that the barns are still standing too. They are chock full of vintage furniture and things from another era. Dressers, wire baskets, turned legs from tables, glass jars, ceramic bowls, metal bed frames. So cool. The treasures in this old red barn are dying to come home with me and I’ve been dreaming about beautifully painting and modernizing them. Pretty sure I’ll go back one day with a truck to snag them, when it’s too cool for snakes to slither around in warm barns.

It was fun to remember running these hills as a kid, feeding my great-aunt’s dog, Cappy. Flying through the fields on a 3-wheeler with my dad. Killing snakes. Picking (and eating) lots of blackberries, listening to wind chimes and cuckoo clocks all set to different times. The smell of honeysuckle is still intoxicating. What great memories.

I wore my boots. You know, my wannabe cowboy boots. Totally appropriate. Especially for wading through thigh-high hay fields and tromping through the red clay mud near the creek. Really made a difference. Thankfully I only got made fun of twice or three hundred times. Even the cows looked at me strangely. Why? Because people in Floyd wear boots. Real boots. Not Steve Madden. I’m such a city-fied country girl.

Wouldn’t it be great to have a big fat farmhouse, restored in all of its glory, with modern finishes and plenty of charm, sitting in the middle of these fields? Throw in a cute hubby, a few freckled little offspring, a dog or two, and a garden and I might just be in country heaven. If there were a Target around the bend beyond the hollow, just past the place the ‘coons have a nest.

Join me? We could be neighbors.

love, allison

Marvelous in our eyes.

This is my friend Alexis.

We have known each other since we were kids. She was a few years behind me in school, but we went on a mission trip together in High School to third-world parts of Mexico. She was a dream teammate. When I was in college, I had the privilege of leading Alexis and her friends in a weekend Disciple Now small group. Loved those girls. In the last couple of years, she began full-time ministry at Crosswalk Community Church. Her heart for Him is… wow.

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This is her husband, Rob.

I honestly don’t know much about Rob. I know we went to the same college. He studied something other than English (my undergrad major) because we didn’t have any classes together.

What I do know about Rob is that he met, fell in love with, and later married Alexis in 2006.

Anyone that sees Alexis’ heart for God, supports her call to ministry, and loves her unconditionally is OK fantastic in my book.

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My heart feels overwhelmed when I share this next bit.

They wanted a family.

Tried and tried.

Couldn’t.

Cried. Grieved. Hurt.

Tried more.

Nothing.

Grieved again.

Researched adoption.

Felt called to pursue it.

Opened their hearts to a multi-racial family.

Found an agency.

A birth mom chose them.

They celebrated!

Baby was born in January.

More celebrating!

He would be theirs!

The mom lied.

She’d smoked, used alcohol.

The baby was deformed.

More than deformed.

He had no brain stem. Was a vegetable. May not live.

Oh the grief. (Even my eyes are teary now!)

Prayed about what they should do.

God asked them to wait.

WAIT?!

On March, another baby was born.

Dad’s rights were terminated.

Mom’s rights were terminated, too.

That baby was turned over to the foster care system.

Alexis and Rob prayed.

Should they foster to adopt?

Would God grant this this, the desire of their hearts?

He is so faithful.

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Meet Elijah.

He came home with them last week.

A 7 1/2 week old beauty.

Perfect in every way.

He eats and sleeps and loves.

And soon, he’ll be theirs.

Forever.

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I can’t help but weep with joy for my friend when I see their tiny, beautiful, prayed-for baby laying under Psalm 118:23. This is the Lord’s doing; it is marvelous in our eyes.

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Welcome home, Elijah.

Your mom and dad have been waiting for you.

They love you.

And they can’t wait to tell you how wonderful our Father is.

love, allison

Sunlit fields.

Hi friends,

I just love Beth Moore studies. I am crazy about the way she talks to my heart about a Father who chose and cherishes me, his daughter… that is, until she smacks me with one or two Scriptures that I’d rather read than live.

That’s when I decide that Beth and I are no longer friends. Like that mean girl in school, I want to call up every classmate and tell them how terrible she is. That’s right. I’m proud to be a deserter. It feels triumphant to throw her book on the ground and wave my white flag of surrender. Feels victorious to see her face on the ground for a few days. It’s fantastic to admit that my life is easier without her.

Take THAT, Beth Moore.

Needless to say, Beth and I stage dramatic break ups so often, it’s become art form. But it doesn’t stick. Ever.

Last week her perfect highlights stared at me until I relented, though I did give her white smile a haughty smirk as I grabbed her off of the carpet. When we picked back up where we left off, I was reminded of David’s thoughts in Psalm 56; they have begun to speak to me immensely during this season of life. Ugh. Of course.

Take my side, God. I’m getting kicked around, stomped on every day. Not a day goes by but somebody beats me up; they make it their duty to beat me up.

When I get really afraid, I come to You in trust. I’m proud to praise God, fearless now, I trust in God. What can mere mortals do?

They don’t let up – they smear my reputation and huddle to plot my collapse. They gang up, sneak together through the alleys to take me by surprise, waiting their chance to get me.

Pay them back in evil! Get angry God! Down with these people! You kept track of my every toss and turn through the sleepless nights, each tear entered into your ledger, each ache written in your book. If my enemies run away, turn tail when I yell at them, then I’ll know You are for me.

I’m proud to praise God, proud to praise God. Fearless now; I trust in God. What can mere mortals do to me? God, you did everything You promised, and I’m thanking You with all my heart. You pulled me from the brink of death, my feet from the cliff-edge of doom. Now I stroll at leisure with God in the sunlit fields of life.

From beaten up to walking the sunrise with Him.

What a beautiful Savior; what a beautiful rescue.

Beth was right. And now I’m going to laboriously uncrinkle pages of my book, wipe off her dusty highlights, and dream of my own sunlit fields.

love, allison

Hello world!

Hello world,

I should probably type something witty or cute, intelligent or inspiring for my inaugural blog post. This is a big deal, right? I’m pretty sure most bloggers start out with the intent to accumulate a plethora of loyal readers. I’m working toward a handful. Less than lofty, huh?

In the last 15 minutes since set-up, I’ve come to the realization that modern-day blogging is almost like publishing an awkward middle school journal for all the world to see, even if all the world isn’t interested in reading my much-past middle school journal (known now as love, allison).

This inaugural post is where I should cast vision for love, allison‘s uncharted e-territory. Tell you all about the topics I’ll ponder, give you reasons why you should faithfully read (which would require me to faithfully write), and convince you that you might like this brand-new, cyber version of me (based on aforementioned necessary cuteness, wittiness, intelligence and inspiration). I might’ve failed my first blog already if those really are the criteria.

Truth is, I don’t know what this blog is going to turn into. The only thing you really need to know is that I am crazy about the One who rescued and redeemed me, Jesus, and my pursuit of Him. I’ll also do my best to share adventures in full-time ministry and creative stuff I’m doing. Life is exciting; hope you’ll join me on the journey. You, and my soon-to-be-blog-reading mom.

Faithful reader, I think I like you.

love, allison