I often and intentionally imagine God’s voice speaking directly, personally, intimately to me.

Some call this crazy, but I know it as an ancient practice called Lectio Divina* or Divine Reading – a way of engaging Sacred Text not as something to be studied, but as something to be experienced; trusting that God still speaks.

The words that follow were prompted by my interaction with that Text; with the story a young girl, sick and dying, whose father pleads with Jesus to heal her (Luke 8: 49-56).

This is a portion of my imagining God’s voice on my behalf:

I knew you when you were a young girl, Ronna. I was there, present, and loving you as much then as I do now. No cry was unheard. No wound unseen. No heartache unknown. Still. Always. And I can heal you: the young girl who remains within and the woman you are today. Imagine me as the mother who nurtures and comforts her sick child, who holds your head in my lap, who soothes your brow, who listens to your cries and says, “Shhhh. It’s OK.” Who’s always there. Who never leaves. Who sees and says that this-too-shall-pass. Who waits with you. Who holds your hand. Who advocates. Who calms. Who strengthens. Who believes. Who loves. I am that mother. I am that father. I am that God. 

The young girl within you will yet rise. She will yet breathe. She will yet run and dance and play. All the potential and hope that dwells within her, dwells within you. She has only been sleeping. So now, hear me speak the same words to you that I spoke to her: “My dear child, get up.”  

Oh, for ears to hear.

I can only begin to imagine (and believe) what healing and hope that would invite…