Tag Archives: Rachel Allish

The Right To Rest

9 Nov

“In the spring, at the time when kings go off to war, David sent Joab out with the king’s men and the whole Israelite army.”    2 Samuel 11:1

Spring was a good time to go to war because the roads were dry, making travel easier for troop movement. David had just successfully defeated the Ammonites. But immediately following victory, David abandoned his purpose, passed off his responsibility, and stayed home to soak in the victory instead of being alongside his army in battle.

I’m sure David was simply enjoying the many luxuries of being king.  It seems as though he began to build security on his own strength. Forgetting that it was the Lord who enabled him to win in the first place. Instead of being forward thinking, He began to rely on his previous victory. His priorities were out of line, and he failed to face the next task at hand. While most of us think of David as a man with a worshiper’s heart and a warrior’s will; this story portrays him as someone entirely different.

Distraction comes easily if you aren’t focused on your purpose. And distraction precedes failure. I remember the first (and hopefully the last) time I played dodge ball. Six fellow peers of mine dragged me onto their team after realizing that they had to have at least one girl on their team in order to play. I told them I wasn’t too grand at sports, but they were convinced otherwise- and wow were they ever wrong.

I was a miserably pathetic throw and exhibited incredibly poor hand-eye coordination skills to boot. But, for a split second, I experienced my fair share of glory. Three or so minutes into the game, (The anxiety made it feel more like 40) one of the styrofoam balls was launched up in the air, luckily high enough so I could catch it. I caught it, everyone cheered, and my opponent was out. But, I was so overcome with the pride of my new found victory, that I failed to notice the second ball. Lethally headed in my direction. Being entirely distracted made me an easy target. And that was the end of my dodgeball career; just as soon as I had tasted victory; I was out.

I’ve since learned that looking back to soak on your victory too often will only distract you from the next challenge at hand. I don’t know of a time in the Bible where Jesus used his energy recalling all that He had done. He was always forward thinking. Looking for the next person to touch, heal, or save. He had bigger fish to fry than to use his valuable time thinking, praying, or addressing the past. He was always in the Spirit, always in warfare, always on call, accessible, and ready.

“One evening, David got up from his bed and walked around the roof…and saw a woman bathing. David sent someone out to find her…she came to him and he slept with her.” 2 Samuel 11:2-4

Like me, in light of victory, David had let his guard down. I’m sure he did indeed deserve some R&R. After all, he’d served diligently, patiently, and  faithfully all those years. He’d single-handedly killed the giant, destroyed opposing armies, and remained in communion with God. So, hadn’t he earned it?

We mustn’t depend on our past victories to pull us through tomorrow’s challenges, we still have to face them. Every war has a price.  Anytime you lose sight of your mission, you can rest assured that distraction is lying on the next rooftop.  Opportunity is always knocking, and if you don’t have a worthwhile cause to obtain your focus, your own desires will overcome your purpose.

You see, this snowball effect began as a decision; to fight, or not to fight. Never underestimate what hiding from your battles will cost. No matter how great the recent victory is, we should never feel entitled to lay aside our weapons. A friend of mine put it this way “As Christians, we shouldn’t ever feel as though we have the right to rest spiritually.” We can’t let up, give in, or back down. There’s a task that has been assigned to us. The moment we lose sight of it, we will fall, and eventually distraction will destroy us.

If you feel as though you’ve lost sight of your purpose, don’t worry! David blew it- royally at that. Yet, he turned his life around and we still speak of him today. God will honor a man who returns. It’s never too late to come back.

So, let’s face tomorrow. Let’s kick the crud out of our lives. Let’s become so overwhelmingly consumed with the God who loves us, and the task at hand, that distraction has no place in our lives. Contend; it’s what we’re born to do.

“The kingdom of heaven suffers violence, and the violent take it by force.” Matthew 11:12

Just Do It.

18 May
 

“’Do not be afraid. Stand firm and you will see the deliverance the Lord will bring you today…The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still…Raise your staff and stretch out your hand over the sea to divide the water so that the Israelites can go through the sea on dry ground.’”   Exodus 14:13-16 NIV

How many times have I found myself at what looks like a dead-end of disappointment.  Failures and screw-ups can be explained but when I’m led in what looks like the wrong direction, it seems unfair, unjustified, undeserved.   At times life is simply unreasonable.  Like the universe pays no attention to what I want or what has been promised.  In moments like these, I can’t help but look back to double check that I heard God correctly… did I miss something?   Was I mistaken?   Because the circumstances don’t line up with the promises.  Before I know it, doubt begins to take root in my heart.

Just when I feel like I’ve been driven into the ground– like a knight in shining armor, God comes through– and not a moment too soon.  A word, an inkling, a still small voice, a verse, something somehow manages to keep the promise alive and my soul from withering away with disappointment.

After ten plagues, countless firstborns slain, and a king who was fed up; the Israelites were free.   Moses led them out of Egypt and into the desert.  Then, after all of God’s sovereign intervention– He directed them straight into the sea.    Most of us would have thrown the towel in due to the obvious circumstances.  A slow-moving crowd of men, women, and children don’t stand much of a chance against an army of infuriated Egyptians in merciless pursuit.  And, needless to say, the Red Sea wasn’t exactly a great option either.  Had He led them all this way only to kill them off in some miserable, pathetic way?

You’ve probably heard the story, so you already know that the Israelites didn’t drown.  God kept His end of the bargain.  Moses stood as the people walked through the Red Sea as if it were a water park’s drained wave pool.  Sometimes, God will lead us straight into a dead-end simply to show that He is with us.  In times like these, fighting is worthless and swimming is hopeless.  We must stand so that He can act on our behalf and transform the very obstacles we face.  Despite all barriers, against all odds, come hell or high water; He proves that He is with us.

 “And the Lord said to Joshua, “Today I will begin to exalt you in the eyes of all Israel, so they may know that I am with you as I was with Moses.  Tell the priests who carry the ark of the covenant:  When you reach the edge of the Jordan’s waters, go and stand in the river…and its waters flowing downstream will be cut off and stand up in a heap.”   Joshua 3:7-13 NIV

Fast-forward a few years and Israel’s next leader, Joshua, is faced with a similar setback.  I’m sure Joshua remembered the Red Sea dilemma and how God came through.  Surely, he wasn’t ignorant of God’s sovereignty.  Yes, the Red Sea was slightly chancy, but this was different.

Now, I’m reading in between the lines here a bit, but I can almost hear what Joshua might have said: “Isn’t this where I just raise my hands and You split the river like you did the sea?”  Or telling the Priests; “Men, I know this ark is our most valuable possession and I know you’re the holiest among us all, but I want you to march it straight into the river.”

He couldn’t simply do what Moses had done and watch the water split wide open.  No, not Joshua, he was directed to order his best men, the cream of the crop and their sacred treasure, their promise of God’s presence;  straight into the river.  God had stepped it up a notch, a raised hand could have gone unnoticed, but a full throttle priestly processional into the Jordan wasn’t exactly discreet.  This required more participation.  This was risky.  This made absolutely no sense– this was crazy.

I can’t even tell you how many times it feels like God is trying to murder His promises—the very same ones He’s given me.  “Just march into the river Rachel, take a step of faith, and then I’ll take it from there.”   Sometimes, God will ask you to carry the very things He’s given you into what seems like suicide.  In times like these, standing in faith isn’t enough.  Only after obediently marching straight  into the chaos He called you to, will He split the river.

If You’ve Been Asked To Stand:  Stand in confidence and ignore those who threaten to kill God’s plan of destiny for your life.  He is fully capable to fight for you and doesn’t need your help.  Remember, He has promised to never forsake us and you aren’t an exception.  Rest assured that He is ready and able to carry out to completion whatever He said He would accomplish.  Stand, be still, and watch as God sovereignly kisses earth as He acts on your behalf.  

When You’re Told To March:  Depend on the Lord’s instructions, no matter how crazy they sound and regardless of how much better yours seem.  Don’t wait for it to get easy before you move.  Go full speed ahead and trust that He sees the bigger picture and can always change your circumstances.    Remember, failing isn’t His thing; He isn’t out to drown you and your dreams.   March, step out in faith and watch what once were obstacles clear out of the way.  

Don’t drown in disobedience— whether you’ve been told to stand still in faith or march forward in confidence;  Stare your obstacles square in the face and  Just Do It.

Consider This:

15 Aug

Obedience is the outward expression of your love for God.
If you have an obedience problem, you have a love problem.  It’s more important to understand what God is doing where you are than telling God what you want to do for Him.

Luke 11:28,  John 14:15,  1 John 5:3,  Micah 6:6-8

The Only Exception

5 Jul

Blessed are they who hunger and thirst for righteousness: for they shall be filled. Matthew 5:6

It seems to me that typically, we don’t expect God to transform or fill us. And we look to things to fill the void because we don’t truly believe that we need Him.

For a few years now, I’ve been praying for my dad whom I haven’t seen since I was sixteen. I felt that if I had a father, I would be complete. His leaving was always my excuse; my reason, to be mad at the world and live however I pleased. Recently, my mom became engaged to an incredible man of God who treats her like a queen and spoils us rotten. Their relationship is a beautiful picture of what true Love looks like. I used to believe that this hole in my heart would be filled when a father figure stepped back into my life.

For the past few weeks, I’ve relied on my environment and circumstances to sustain me. Since I’ve returned from India, it’s been easy living. It’d been so effortless that I began to rely solely on the people and things around me. Yes, it’s absolutely wonderful that everything in life seems to be simplistically drama-free, but it’s been odd. Without battles, I’ve found myself distancing from God. Growing accustomed to coping without Him. As if I only need Him when I’m injured.

Yes, I’ve been spending time with Him. But I’ve also felt empty. Somewhere along the lines of my recently effortless life, I became self-reliant. I assumed since I now had everything I was “supposed” to have, I would be content. This counterfeit confidence lasted a few weeks as  I expected my heart to be filled. But, I was wrong. Slowly drifting away, my self-reliance was killing my purpose. I’m discovering that “happy circumstances” don’t equate to feeling whole, satisfied, or fulfilled. In the end, you find yourself coming up short and something still lacks.

I don’t want to share life with God only when it’s too hard for me to handle. I want Him to be with me in everything. I imagine that it wouldn’t be very fun to only take care of your child through the difficulties. The diaper changes, cuts and scrapes, and continuous messes.  But, I’m sure payment in the form of sharing their first words, steps, or graduation, is much appreciated. God wants to enjoy life with us. He desires to walk with us hand in hand through the bad and the good. If we look, we will find Him everywhere, in everything.

Nothing on this earth will fill me. No earthly relationship can sustain me. No one but Him. He is the Only Exception. I need Him, even when life feels okay.

Twenty-Eight Kids & Seven Markers

14 Jun

I know You’re a God of Justice. You’re Peace impersonated. Love, Mercy, and Compassion incarnate. So why do these things happen? What sets these children apart from myself, my family or friends. How did they get the shorter end of the stick? I don’t wish to question You, I know this isn’t Your doing. Just show me what I can do, practically. I am so overwhelmed. My heart feels blown to bits. Yet, this is only a glimpse. Only the aftermath. I only see in part. The magnitude of this horrendous situation is unimaginable. What can I do? Use me.

God help us. Day Eight was finally here and had begun. Our tolerance and flexibility would be put to the test.  This day and the next two weeks to follow it would be physically, spiritually, and emotionally draining. Vacation Bible School, Day 1. We were initially expecting 150-200 children from the slums and surrounding villages. What we didn’t know is that apparently, word travels faster without cellphones or vehicles. We had enough supplies for about 200 children. By mid-morning the first day, there were well over 300 beautiful little Indian faces ages 1-21 staring up at us twenty-five pale-faced Americans. Five translators all together. This would be a great opportunity to either pick up some Tamil, or use some cross-cultural sign language.

Malachi, and I  had twenty-eight kids all together on our team. Eight hours a day with these precious kids and no translator would be tough.  Looking back, its pretty comical the ways that we tried to communicate. Trying to ask a 3-year-old of he needs to use the restroom was harder than I first realized. If you’ve seen Slum Dog Millionaire, it paints a fairly accurate picture of what the children in the slums are like. I noticed that only a handful wore a different outfit each day. For the most part, they were in the same clothes all week. I counted about fifteen pairs of shoes. The floors and streets are so hot in India, their feet were callused beyond belief.

With the Superhero song predominantly on loop in my head; singing it eight times a day with the correlating motions was a cinch. They laughed at our dramas, and participated more than most kids their own age would. They also got a huge kick when I “milked a cow” on stage. I’m a terrible actress to begin with, so it was somewhat intimidating having a dozen  tease me about it for hours upon end. After a while it got old and I became weary of little boys trying to get my attention. They were everywhere.

We began our art projects. We only had seven markers. If you do the math, that’s four kids for every marker. So, basically it was a challenge. We had two little boys who were pretty husky for their age. They would pick on the smaller ones. It was tolerable until one of them punched a little boy square in the face. Justice and frustration quickly rising in me, he must have noticed and jumped up. The other children screamed “He bad boy, He bad boy” over and over. The injured little boy took a seat, bawling his big brown eyes out. Others comforted him, and I sternly approached the bully. I don’t know where it came from, but in an instance I realized that this little wanna-be-gangster, had most probably endured a difficult past. Out of no where, I found myself hugging him. I grabbed a translator and asked him to tell the little G-man that I believed that he was a good boy deep down. He started to cry. This was a beautiful moment. For a second, I experienced inexplicable love. All of my frustration at the mini antagonist melted away;  all I could do was love on him.

Starving for attention. Desperate for love. Hungry for reassurance. This is why we came. They needed hope. What do you tell a child without hope? Where do you start? Jesus.

If you are interested in supporting this incredible cause in India, please email Judith at: lifeforindia@hotmail.com

$150/Child

13 Jun


What would you do if you could bargain a child out of a labor camp for only $150.00?

It sounds ridiculous. But, this is the harsh reality that Judith is faced with daily. She houses several hundred children in Chennai, India. Most of these children have been smuggled or “bargained” from child labor camps or sex slavery. For a lot of them, their skin tells a story. Burned into their arms and legs, are memories of physical abuse and oppression to forever remind them of what they’ve endured.

They don’t know their ages, their birthdays, or their families. Why doesn’t the government put a stop to this? The disgusting part of it all is that they know of the corruption. They know entirely too well. Most of the camps are owned by politicians. The rich get richer and the poor get poorer.

A lot of the children have been sent to these camps by their own parents. The parents are usually informed if they send their kids, the camp owner will pay off their debt and return the child after he or she has worked for three years. But, they move the children to a different city, and without records, there is no way for the parents to ever find them.

An estimated 15 million children are sold into child labor in India alone. I only met a few hundred kids. My heart is overwhelmed. Twelve hour days, One meal, Seven days a week,  No holidays, No school. Most of the children ages 3+ make bricks, while the younger ones are sent to the streets to beg or sell merch. The babies are rented out by older beggars who need the extra sympathy. It’s heart wrenching. Even after witnessing it with my own eyes, I still can’t wrap my mind around their horrifying reality.

Above, is a picture of Vijayakanth, pronounced “Jagon”, a little boy about three years old who stole my heart on this trip. He and his brother, Zuresh, were recently rescued just last summer. When I first met Jagon, he had what looked like a knot on his forehead. After seeing him for several days, I noticed that it wasn’t only bleeding, but oozing yellow pus as well. I put a bandaid on his tiny head and changed it out daily. I finally asked what it was. A heat boil. Upon hearing this, I broke down. This was normal for them. Nothing out of the ordinary for a three-year old. In the 115 degree weather, they can’t afford air conditioning in the orphanage. So no matter how hard they try, illnesses are often times unavoidable.

So how can we help? Firstly, we can pray. But on a more practical level we can fund. I am personally sponsoring Jagon for a mere $50/month. This is spare change for us here in the States. If you are interested in sponsoring one of the many children that desperately need help, please email Judith at: lifeforindia@hotmail.com or

Send donations directly to:

Life Ministries Global

#16 Murugesan Nagar, Villivakkam,

Chennai 600 049

Rickshaws, Curry & Other Indian Lingo

12 Jun

I thought I’d share a little about the more “adventurous” side of the trip. For those of you who don’t know me, I’ve never been the camping type. That is, until now. Funny how I’ve discovered that I actually love being entirely out of my element. It’s terrifying, but I’m learning to enjoy things that I never thought I’d like. With the exception of curry–I can’t do the whole spicy food thing.

So, for those of you who haven’t ever watched National Geographic. Let me introduce you to the Rickshaw. Not known for it’s spacious back seat, this cute little buggy fits four comfortably but rarely carries less than six. It has only three wheels, and I think it runs on a go-cart engine. It can convienently squeeze in between virtually anything, whether it be two cows or two crate trucks. We had a blast. Also, if you find yourself on the “right” side of the road– It’s actually the wrong side. Apparently, the speed demon drivers enjoy passing everyone that’s stuck on the left side. So we often found ourselves headed in the wrong direction on the right.

In a nutshell, Curry is to India what Tabasco is to Mexico. I don’t particularly know or understand what curry is exactly. But  I do know that it’s hot. Like way hot- but that’s coming from someone who barely likes mild hotsauce. It goes on everything. Breakfast, lunch, dinner. It’s all the same. I wish my tastebuds could have morphed into the kind that likes hotness. But I suppose they’re set on being panzies. I don’t consider myself a picky eater, but I don’t like banannas- at all, nor do I often eat rice (carbs-ew!). But, they were my saving grace on this trip. Really. Three meals a day. So it worked out great!  I cannot believe how much work goes into cooking! Old school firepits, and buckets to wash dishes with– and I have a hard enough time cooking with a stove and dishwasher. These people are amazing!

So, this is somewhat self explanitory right? Squatty Potty. Yep. Basically just what it sounds like. No toilets. Not even in the “Mall” in Chennai. They still had squatties and “Leg Wash” signage above buckets with water. Believe it or not, this is actually one of the nicest ones we saw while in India. And handsoap isn’t available. Not even in the mall. Shocker. While we’re on the topic of cleanliness, it was so crazy to me that our whole trip I counted a total of one (1) trash can. It was pretty different! When some of the children from the slums came to our compound, a few of the girls had to use the restroom. No biggie, Rachel doesn’t need a translator to take seven pre-teen girls to the bathroom. Right? Wrong. I stood outside the restroom and waited for the girls to finish, and I noticed something. Water was spilling out of the restroom and on to the road. Except it wasn’t water. I stepped into the restroom, my feet and flipflops now wet. And to my pleasant surprise, it wasn’t water. The girls hadn’t ever seen a toilet before, so they were peeing in front of the commodes. I was so stunned, I shreaked. Poor girls, I scared them half to death and thought they were in trouble. They are so precious. It just broke my heart.

Why shower when you can use a bucket! I grew quite fond of Bucket Baths. I was drenched in one quick motion. Forget weak water pressure. There’s nothing like a freezing bucket bath at 6am and11pm. Don’t be alarmed if your skin stays soaked and sticky all day, it’s just the heat.

So, these cot-style beds don’t have a cool Indian name. But they should because they definitely don’t sleep like a mattress. This was my room at the church. It was a blast! The only downside were the mosquitos and 115+ temperature. At night the power would shut off, and so would our fans. So, you could typically find me crying on the roof at 3am. The pillows were a little different, so I used my airplane neck pillow. My sheet stained my arms blue (I think my sweat pulled the color out). So, I used my towel for a sheet.

On days when it was too hot, we slept on the Rooftop of the fifth floor. We had a killer view every morning! Devos+agreatview+Indian sunrise = Amazing.

I might joke a lot, but this trip really did challenge me to break out of my bubble and outside of my comfort zones. It was so good for me! I learned so much!

Gypsies, Tamil, & Crackers

11 Jun

Culture Shock: ”A condition of disorientation affecting someone who is suddenly exposed to an unfamiliar culture or way of life.”

Pulling up to the gypsy village after a three-hour long drive through the Indian desert, we’re not in Dallas anymore. Looking out the bus window, a spider monkey is tied to a gate made of broken branches, two babies are on their young mothers hip without any diapers on. Children are running and singing, men are wearing toga-like skirts, cows and dogs are sitting on the sidelines in a daze. Culture Shock. These beautiful people are unlike anyone I’ve ever seen.

We unload the bus in formation, the eleven girls in the center in a single file line, the boys surround us holding the people back. Cameras are left behind for safety. Tamil translators begin communicating with the local leaders.

This particular group of about eighty, has set themselves apart from typical Indian culture. They are composed of what initially was a few close relatives. They independently educate their children, make their own clothing, grow their own food, and believe in their own religion. They move from place to place without a permanent home. They don’t have any citizenship, or permanent records. There is no way to track them, here one day, packed up and gone the next. This is their living style of choice.

We sang a few kids songs, including ”Jesus You’re My Superhero” for the forty umpteenth time. Did a few dances, shared our testimonies, and told them about Jesus. Several people came up for prayer afterwards. Younger women mostly. I prayed for several pregnant girls who couldn’t have been over sixteen. They looked so small yet ready to pop. They were concerned with their pregnancies, and asked that I pray for blessings over their child’s life. I couldn’t imagine being in their shoes. They were so strong, so dignified, so fearless. So breathtakingly gorgeous. These girls have a natural beauty that would blow our “plastic-sism” out of the water any day.

After a few hours it was time for us to head out, but first we would hand out three large husk bags worth of crackers and toys for the children. The translators relayed to the people to have a seat and we would hand them each one toy and one snack. Half of us were designated toy’ers while the other half snack’ed. For the first few moments, most of the people remained seated. But about fifteen seconds in we were surrounded. People were pushing others, older parents were stealing crackers from the children. They were trying to overtake the snack-bag. Kids were getting shoved out of the way, babies were crying. Grasping hands everywhere; they were grabbing and reaching at us. I was completely surrounded and couldn’t get to any of the team members. It was terrifying.

My heart was breaking. I couldn’t believe it. These people were starving; they were desperate. I was so overwhelmed  I started bawling. I couldn’t even move. I just stood there in utter disbelief at what I was witnessing. I’ve been on mission trips before, but this was just beyond anything I’ve seen in my life. Absolute chaotic craziness. I suppose this is just a glimpse of what it’s like with the “Feed The Children” relief efforts in Africa.

Where can you direct people like this? Who is their hope? When will the answer reach them? How can we help? We gave them enough food to equate about half a meal. What about the rest of their meals? For the rest of their lives. Who will ever truly reach these people?

We must do something. We must reach out. This world will change one life; one person; one soul at a time. This was Jesus’ style. We can’t become overwhelmed. We should accomplish the task assigned to us by any, and all means possible. Firstly in our lifestyle and secondly in our personal spheres of influence. Change the world, but first begin with your friends.

Broaden your horizons. Start at Wal Mart. Smile. Impact someone. Anyone.

“For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me…I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these, you did for Me.”  Matthew 25: 35,36,40

Back From India

8 Jun

I just returned from my trip to Chennai, India. I feel so incredibly blessed to have been able embark on this amazing experience of a lifetime. Thank you SO much to everyone for your support, prayers, and encouragement. I couldn’t have done it without you!

There is so much to write! I thought I would first post a few of my favorite pictures to give some perspective!

Almost There-INDIA 2010

3 Apr

“Here is the test to find whether your mission on earth is finished.  If you’re alive. It isn’t. -Richard Bach

Thirty-Six days away! (That’s only four more weekends!) And $1850.00 to go!

A special thank-you to everyone who has been such a huge part of this process! And a special thank you to the gorgeous, anointed, and talented speaker-Barb Pruitt. She graciously fedexed several ankle-length skirts that fit perfectly! :)

Everything is coming together, and God’s faithfulness is becoming more and more evident through everyone’s prayers and support! Thank you!

I am so excited to leave, as we are only about one month away from take off. This next month is going to be pretty crazy! I graduate from the two-year program with a Diploma in Practical Theology at Christ for the Nations on May 7th. Shortly after on May 8th, I’ll move out of my apartment and pack any last minute things. The following day, May 9th, we will board for a long (but worth it) three days of travel to Channai, India.

This next month will be full of preparation & planning, drama/dance practices, writing, team-building, meetings, and training. It’s becoming more and more real every day!

If you itemize your deductions for income tax purposes, your gift will be tax deductable. If you wish to make a donation online please visit: ttps://www.cfni.org/outreach/?code=8e6d5362e5be9fea678268fcb056c5a6

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