I don’t even know where to begin writing tonight. It has been a wild week or so. If you follow along with me here a bit, hopefully you know I don’t really use that word lightly. On one hand, in the world of much talk of which I likely contribute far more than needed, the word wild seems a good many times less appropriate compared to the amount of its use. On the other hand, every day I feel more convinced of how every single moment we are breathing really is that—wild. Wilder than I knew at least.

Wanna hear a story? OK, this is wonder-full. So, since moving to Washington, and especially since the rainy season began, the need for a good (can-wear-all-day-long) pair of waterproof boots came into view. And so did the price tag. Wow. However, Jay surprised me with a pair I had been perusing a few months back online. I wore them around the house for a bit but couldn’t make myself go outside in them because they just didn’t feel right. I hated to do it, but we ended up sending them back at a point when I knew they weren’t going to work and we could use the extra cash back in the pocket. Truth.

Then I was in town doing some shopping about two weeks ago and found some boots on sale. I was literally about to go up to the register when Jay sends me a text:

“What are you looking for darlin’?”
I tell him I just found some waterproof boots!
“Hold up”, he writes back,
“Someone wants to get you some.”
“What?? Quit messin’ around Jay.”
“No, I’m serious!”
“Someone?? Is getting me some waterproof boots? Who even knows I need them? Who even cares??”
“Someone who loves you”, he managed to write back right before my phone died.

I figured he was speaking of himself and was trying to keep the surprise, but with a dead phone in hand, I could no longer argue. I reluctantly put the boots (last one my size!) back on the shelf.

But, he wasn’t messin’ nor speaking vague to hide his own surprise! I still don’t quite know how it came about except that some amazingly generous friends of ours had the thought that I would be needing some good boots out here, and then they acted on it.

So, last week, I received a pair of waterproof boots that fit me like my 16 year-old cousin’s Mustang fit him the day he drove me around town. perfection. delivered. to. my. front. step.

They’re seriously the hardiest boots I’ve ever had on my feet, but lightweight and flexible too. In other words, easily a hundred times better than the deep discount bargain I found the week before. They’re simple and earth toned, just my style, and WATER PROOF!

I can’t get over it. I don’t think I’ll ever put on those boots without remembering they mean I am loved. I’m known. So much so that waterproof boots (that no one but God knew how bad I wanted) got sent to my door.

That had been a rough week. I lost a dear friend that week (not to physical death, but to a parting of ways) and another about a month ago. I was “supposed to be” with my family in Ohio celebrating my parents 50th anniversary…except I wasn’t “supposed to be”. I needed to be home. I needed my feet wrapped in peace.

They were.

Then, I was in the woods.

How often do you think we walk away from, turn from, the truth about something when we come near it? I did last week. I was in the woods, and something very true brushed against me…or me against it? I don’t know. It felt foreign, and strange. I was uncomfortable. I turned away. I walked on.

But since it happened, it continued to come back to me. As did a simple prayer, “What was that?”.

Then, a waking dream, or lucid dream? Or was it a vision in which I “woke” to the strange realization of the sense I had in the woods…it was like another dimension right next to me, another realm. I felt as though, no, I knew, to go there would mean to die here.

I didn’t want to, but I knew I could trust God more. If He was calling me there, I would go and I knew Jay and the kids would be OK. So when the invitation to be near to that strange and foreign feeling came again in the night…I turned my head toward it instead of away…I was willing…it was peace-full to trust God, but then my head (as though by two gentle hands) was directed away back toward Jay, and I heard, the word—GIFT.

WILD. That’s all I remember. I don’t know when or how from there I fell back asleep if I was ever actually awake? But, yeah, waking that morning…GIFT.

I was asked recently to write on an aspect of my healing journey. I have mentioned it here but not in great detail. That is, the way my husband would lay his hands on me each morning and night and ask God to heal me. You know, speaking of wild.

This is a difficult subject for many of us because though believing God has, does, and can heal, He doesn’t always. In the same way, every time I want something, it doesn’t land on my front step. In the same way, every time I go for a walk in the woods I do not have a mystical experience. In the same way, the first time Jay laid his hands on me and prayed I would be healed, my fever, etc. remained for nearly nine months.


I count those prayers among some of the most powerful steps we took in finding restoration a reality in my body. There were nights of more than a simple laying of gentle hand and gentle prayers. There were nights of anguish of whether to go to the ER and pleading for God to help.

There was one morning when I woke and knew to stand facing the rising of the sun, to stand and know God’s power in the earth below my feet was real and potent for my wholeness. That I could stand there and connect with my Creator, that I could grow in wholeness, that I could walk from there in healing.

Truth be told, there were days Jay prayed and I felt an immediate shift in my being and I also knew a choice was laid before me, life and death.

A few months ago, a similar symptom I had often experienced when I first became ill presented again. I was afraid and weary. I didn’t even want to talk about it. But I did, I exposed my fears to Jay as we laid in bed one night. Then he exposed one to me. He knew with his entire being that though his mind prayed, “Lord, heal her”, his Lord was whispering, “You, heal her.”


What if? What if it doesn’t work? What if he heard wrong?


What if we don’t try? So we did. He prayed. I received. And I have been well from that moment on. I know! Now, we’re really getting wild.

And that the nature of wild is unpredictable, untamed, unknown…hardly comforts or brings the order we ache for in our minds. I know that too. Yet. That the nature belongs to a good God, of Whom no matter which heart’s hope or prayer He chooses to answer or does not, I can trust—that is the wild that stirs my blood to follow Him on. His goodness that does not ever fail. Whether I perish or whether I live.

Whether I’m roaming the part of the earth I think I’m meant to or whether I feel lost. Whether my feet feel at peace or whether I see with seeing I am loved and known no matter what my circumstances. This is the place of healing I know He most wants to lead me on to.

He wants us to know Him when we rise in the mornings, so He invites us to give thanks for the day and thanks for the returning of our soul to us after sleep. He wants us to know Him in our suffering so He brings stories of healing to our ears and invites us to ask, seek, and knock. He wants us to know His Spirit in us is the same that created the world and raised Messiah from the grave, so He gave us poetry…”I in you and you in Me”…”I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine”…

and wind in trees,

and saints that speak and do true things,

“A man sleeping on the ground with his mouth open had a snake crawl down his throat. Another man who witnessed the event shook him awake and vigorously pounded him on the back again and again to make him vomit. The first man understandably resented what he considered an unjustified attack and responded violently. When finally he vomited the snake, he had his explanation and complained, ‘Why didn’t you tell me what you were doing?’

The reply was simple: ‘You were not receptive to arguments at that point. A person in that predicament needs a kick, not an explanation!’

If God permits suffering, we can be sure it is more painful for Him who permits it than for us who bear it. If we had His wisdom and sought our salvation as passionately as He seeks it for us, we would choose to pass through the very sufferings that afflict is. Therefore, believers bear with understanding the sufferings imposed upon them.” -Richard Wurmbrand, who suffered 14 years in communist prisons

We often wonder why not us when all the while we’ve been chosen to be the hands, feet, eyes, and body of a wild God. So much so that He makes our questions, our doubts, our stumbling, our sins, and even our weaknesses a part of the answer, even before we know it. He returns our souls to us in the morning, this is more gift than we can even begin to imagine. It is our invitation to walk in healing, physical and spiritual, our own and others.

“Christ has no body now on earth but yours,
No hands but yours,
No feet but yours,
Yours are the eyes through which to look out
Christ’s compassion to the world
Yours are the feet with which He is to go about doing good,
Yours are the hands with which He is to bless men now.”

-Teresa of Avila



Hi, I’m Raynna Myers. I’m an author, photographer, homeschooling mom to six children, and wife, learning how to face fears and walk in healing. This is where I share the journey.

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