When the Bible tells us to pray without ceasing, it's not because we need one-more-thing-on-our-plates.

It's because it's survival.

It's a lifeline to the strong Savior who grips us so tightly to us through every pain, every joy, every longing, every loss.

Whether we're on our knees figuratively or literally, there's nothing quite like that exhale when our hearts have been bowed low for a great deal of time and Jesus picks us up and stands us on solid ground and says, "Walk."

And then, we walk. And oh, the freedom. His "incomparably great power" (Ephesians 1:19) at work.

"The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; surely, I have a delightful inheritance," (Psalm 16:6).

I love this perspective on healing from my beautiful friend, Alex --> When the Pool Doesn't Heal You...

This week, for me, has been a week full of that incomparably great power at work. I haven't walked without crutches since September 15th of last year.

I had spent last July and August in what we hoped was an almost-remission. I walked. I moved. I felt free. But it turns out that it wasn't a remission.

I then limped through an incredibly challenging winter, with crutches and unsuccessful nerve blocks and 45 minute seizures and MRIs and pain and lack and lots of letting go. 

I stayed low. I stayed on my knees, in my heart even when I couldn't touch my physical knees to the ground. I stayed near to the One I knew would carry me through, whatever that looked like. He's there, my friend. In the pain and the lack and the letting go. He never leaves. He pierces the darkness with His powerful, beautiful Presence. 

He carried me.

For this reason I kneel before the Father, from whom every family in heaven and on earth derives its name.  I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.

Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen. (Ephesians 3:14-21)

And suddenly, as if from nowhere, last Sunday, I got up. And I began to walk. Jesus brought me from my knees to my feet. And I'm still standing.

And I can barely put into words the freedom I've felt this week. I have held sweet littles. And built train tracks on the floor. I've driven to the grocery story and to church. I've pushed swings and taken off my shoes on the warm grass. I've buckled carseats. I've picked up the mail.

Seriously--these things seem so small. So insignificant. But they are huge to me today. They mean healing to me today. 

And whatever a new day brings, in the world of unpredictable diseases and, really, unpredictable tomorrows, whether I can keep this, whether I'm back on my knees again, I'm thankful. I'm so thankful that I get to be carried. And so do you. From our knees to our feet.

• Have you been low, with your knees, maybe your face, to the floor?
• What would it look like for you to move from your knees to your feet? Where do you need God's incomparably great power?
• Where can you see the arms of God carrying you in your recent days?