I didn’t just see it, I FELT it.
I don’t mean I was healed (although, I was that, too), I mean I physically felt God heal a little girl under my hand. She was around 9 years old, I may never know how old she was exactly, but the Nepali girl that God used to change the way I see Him was beautiful. She was placed on a table in front of me and 3 members of my team and her legs were stretched out in front of us. It looked like her left leg was slightly longer than her right. She walked with a limp and we were told that she had a lot of pain in her left leg that limited her mobility. I was sitting on her right side, so I wrapped my arm around the back of her legs and put my hand on her left knee and we began to pray for healing and for chains of pain to be broken and for her heart to be softened and for her to hear and know the name of Jesus as her savior, and then I FELT it.
Under my hand, her kneecap moved out of its place, and I felt things inside her knee moving and straightening, aligning, and then I felt her kneecap move back into place.
She jumped off the table and walked around with visible shock in her eyes, testing out her legs, moving faster, jumping. She came back and told the pastor that she was still a little sore, but was better…but we weren’t going to settle for some residual soreness. God’s love is perfect and His healing is perfect, He doesn’t desire for us to be mostly healed, He desires for us to be fully restored, so we prayed again. This time, when we said “Amen,” she hopped off the table, skipped around giggling, and then literally ran home.
That day we prayed for close to 30 people in an hour and a half, we prayed for a woman and then she went home and got her two sons to bring them back for prayer, we prayed for one man with a headache and then he brought 3 more over who also had headaches, we prayed for a tiny baby with pneumonia and for women with stomach pain.
When we were getting ready to leave, that first little girl came back with her dad and her younger sister. When she had shown up at home healed from a chronic disability, she was sent back with her baby sister.
“Tongues” and “healings” and “prophecy,” are no longer boxed-in trigger words, they’re precious beautiful moments in my normal life where Papa shows up VISIBLY and AUDIBLY and says “hey, baby girl, I love you this much.”
I’m just left in awe, regularly wondering things like: How is this only the third month of my race? How much more can Papa possibly have for me? How am I only 22 and seeing all of this? What kind of insane things could He have for the rest of my life?
Papa, thank you for Your Son, thank you for Your love, thank you for Your intimacy and for Your perfect ways. You alone are good, and without You, I’m just dust. All I am is Yours. I love you. I want to know Your Word and live by it, I want to know Your children and love them the way You do, I want eyes to see Your Kingdom crashing into this world in all the ways You want to reveal it to me. I want to rest and walk and move in Your presence, because You told me that it’s in You that I live and move and have my being, and nothing else compares to the reality of who You are. You are the great I AM, and every day I want to know more deeply what that means, and I want to learn it in whatever way you want to teach me, even if that means taking trigger words of mine and making them beautiful realities. Your way, Jesus, not mine. Always You, Jesus. Amen.
