There I end up on that freeway with Oceans in the background and those words of knowledge in my ears and I can’t help but continue to think about how I’d imagined Phantom Limbs. And now all I can think about is how the phantom pain can’t even really begin if I’d decided somewhere along the way I couldn’t let my surgeon cut off what needed to be cut off to find true healing again. Anyone know what I’m saying here? Maybe… just maybe I’m not alone.

I don’t know how you feel about faith and the Spirit of God speaking, but I feel pretty good about it. Through wisdom, I feel very good about a loving God who speaks with me.

A bunch of strangers sat in a room that night. And I’d always seemed the strangest of them all, but I went, and I sat, and I hoped… I’d hoped that is, to go unnoticed. But there was a word for me that night. I’d come to be brave enough to just participate and go unnoticed. But of course, there was a word just for me. And though I’d never claim it out loud, I took it out of those unfamiliar doors and into my car with me. That word was mine, and maybe… just maybe God was trying to talk with me. Even though I’d placed myself in that low position of unworthy, I think my papa wanted a word with me. When I thought I’d become dirtied enough with the stain of sin that He’d probably given up on me, He came to give me more of Him.

Notes washed like waves around me declaring Holy Spirit to handle where my feet were certainly failing and I wept. I wept like freedom coming and hope restoring. I wept like maybe I should’ve pulled over to the edge of that road, but I just didn’t want to slow it or stop. I wept like maybe, just maybe, I weren’t condemned but rather, most certainly still acceptable. Maybe I wasn’t just acceptable, but maybe, just maybe God would still love me. And maybe I wasn’t just loved by God, but maybe, just maybe, He’d love me so jealously He’d speak through person after person about His knowing me. He’d spill secrets to remind me He’s still here. He’d use the faith in strangers to speak a word of knowledge just to help me see.

What was falling off beyond repair could be severed, and made whole. What was bleeding out could indeed die out and in the very same place of death, true life could be found. What I wouldn’t believe about myself, God was willing to use others to remind me of his deep, jealous, unavoidable love for me. That I am flawed, broken, missing limbs, weak in hope and frail in spirit and never condemned by the sweet love of Christ who redeems and makes me whole.

Maybe, just maybe, He’s feeling the same way about you too.