The Vision

Hello All. I am so sorry for the Delay on the blog. Since we have been busing this portion of Our journey I decided to leave my computer back in Santiago where we have the rest of our stuff and our vehicles (not one of my best deicion making moments I have had). As one of the girls on our team said a week or so ago, "Living out of a backpack makes me really miss living out of a suitcase." We have been gone a lot longer than we have planned, but have seen the Glory of God on an entirely new level. Which I will write all about as soon as I get back to my own computer. I can however, say I never thought Going to the end of the world would be what it took to finally get some major revelations on who I am as well as moving important life revelations from my head knowledge stage to heart Knowledge stage. But that all is for another time. I wanted to use this blog to tell you about a vision I had way back in Paramonga, Peru. When I was going through a season that I recently wrote about that was not what I or anyone else, I am sure, would describe as fun. The season where God was literally ripping my flesh from my body inorder to reveal what He really created. In this season God a gave me a vision on a day when the team as a whole decided to fast to seek the face of God more. I learned so much from the vision about what God was trying to say to me and I felt compelled to write it out. The vision began with me dressed in an all white dress and a little white bucket sat in my lap as I sat on my knees at the foot of the cross of Jesus weeping. The sky was filled with clouds of deep purple and almost red coloring and the air was so thick you could cut it with a knife. I sat there for what seemed to be an age. With tears rolling from my face like a rushing river, I started to fill my little white bucket full of the blood that was dripping from Jesus' mutilated body down the foot of the cross. When bucket was finally filled with blood, still weeping I stood up turned my back to the cross and began to walk. I walked and walked for miles it seemed. Then all of a sudden I had arrived. It seemed as if part of me knew exactly where I was and what I was doing and the other part, the part of me watching me, was confused and not sure what exactly was going on. I had arrived at a long cement wall with what looked to be 20 doors in a row. The part of me that knew what was going on reached into the bucket dripping with blood and pulled out a paint brush. I looked up at the wall and then down to all the doors. The door I was standing at had a big slightly rusted metal One on it. I began to paint the door with the bucket of Jesus' blood. I painted this door until all the blood in the bucket was gone. Still weeping my eyes out I began to walk again all the way up to the cross to collect more blood. After my bucket was filled once again I walked the several miles back down to the long cement wall and began painting door number two, which looked exactly the same as door number one except there was a rusted metal two instead of a one on it. I did this same process walking miles and miles. Not eating not sleeping. Only walking, weeping, and painting for what seemed like days. Until finally I had finished painting all 20 doors with the blood of Jesus. But I wasn't finished yet. Sometime In the middle of painting all these doors the part of me that was watching and unsure of what was happening realized what I was seeing. Each door symbolized every year of my life to this date. I was finally making use of what God had done on the cross and part of me was realizing what everything Jesus did on the cross really meant. The part of me watching everything happening thought it was all over once I had finished painting the 20 doors, but what I hadn't noticed was the beautiful necklace around my neck with many different shaped, unique, and beautifully crafted keys on a thin gold chain. I began walking back up to the cross to fill my bucket again. Then I walked back down to door number one took off the first key on my necklace and placed it into the key whole in the door. Perfect fit. I opened the door to find a hall way lined with many more doors. Three hundred and Sixy-five to be exact, representing every day of that year of my life. And I began painting once again. I quickly began to realize this process was going to take much longer and I was right. However, I finished with the fist year of my life and continued on to the second year. It was as if the part of me doing didn't care about anything else. Nothing was as important. All the tears cried were a mixture of Joy and tears of Humility. I continued to work so diligently even I was impressed with myslef. I came to from the vision before I had finished the inside of all 20 doors, but not before I realized there many more than just 20 doors on the origional wall. Jesus's blood covers every part of our lives past present, and future. Every sin we have and will ever commit is covered and fogiven, otherwise what He did would be illegitimate. He is our finisher! We need to start walking in this inheritance, but at the same time always remembering what and who gave you that seat in Heaven next to the King. We live to be loved. We live to bring The one who gave it all praise. Nothing else carries the same weight of importance. We should be over run with Humility because once we realize what He did wasn't just for the wrench like me but for the wrench of a neighbor as well we will begin to see our sins are no more or less than the next person. He loves us all the same and so should we. So that was the vision. We are making our way back up from the end of the world. Literally Ushuaia, Argentina is the furthest south you can go in the world. Now for the first tiem in almost 8 months we are headed north. I can not wait to be in warm weather once again. SO much Love & Many Blessings, Rachael Michelle Singleton