Friday night I sat in the shower sobbing. 

In pain, mentally and physically.

I cried out, “Jesus, just fix me.”

I have a life only the selfish would complain about.

I have people around me who love, cherish and support me.

Yet, more times than not, tears well in my eyes.

Something is wrong.

I’m sad, hurting and defeated.

I prayed my husband would come in to hold and comfort me.

He did not.

I prayed God would speak to me.

Show me His presence.

Give some kind of supernatural sign I could not deny.

He did not.

Sunday at church during worship, pastor did an alter call for healing.

I stood there, I wasn’t going to move.

My problems are insignificant.

I don’t deserve anything from the Lord. There are so many more there worthy of His attention.

My husband put his arm around me and said, “Let’s go.” 

I stepped out of that aisle in shame.

I thought, ‘I just came here to worship the Lord, that’s the least I can do. I didn’t come here for me.’

As my husband led me to the alter, I heard God say,

“Here is your comfort, this is the husband I have for you.”

At the alter I stood and prayed hands lifted.

There were many who laid hands and prayed over me.

Then, something unexplainable went on inside of me.

Like I was emptied and filled all at the same time.

I hit my knees.

I began to sweat like I was breaking a fever.

My hands shook and trembled. 

My eyes were closed bowed toward the ground, but instead of darkness there was the brightest white light.

I felt faint.

I repeated over again “I surrender, Jesus.” 

As the worship team continued, I bowed there in reverence to God.

I smiled, even laughed, in awe and gratefulness of that sign I begged Him for two nights ago.

There was no immediate ‘fix’ in my body that I felt. 

But I was healed. 

Not in a physical sense, a spiritual one. 

Healed from the despair of feeling unworthy.

Healed from confusion that our pasts effect Gods grace.

Healed from the lies of the enemy.

Healed from shame.

Healed in God’s sovereign power and timing. 

Sunday, I humbled and emptied myself in the presence of Jesus. 

I came to the altar thinking I was unworthy of His attention.

I left knowing His grace was with me the entire time.

By the quiet leading of my husband’s hand.

In the words of the prayers by His people.

In the shame lifted.

With the lies becoming silent.

Feeling the weight of unworthiness broken.

Realizing I’m not alone.

I know God heard me that night.

Emotions, sickness and pain may come and go, but the presence of Jesus does not.

Keep praying.

Keep worshiping.

Keep surrendering.

Even when you feel unworthy, even when you feel unseen.

Because the truth is this:

You were never too broken for His grace, never too small for His attention, and never alone in your suffering.