God Gave Me My Voice Back

Throughout Scripture, God’s people built stone altars to remember what God had done.

Not because they were afraid they would forget the event.

But because they never wanted to forget the God who met them there.

This is one of mine.

I would love to say I had a perfect walk with the Lord. That my testimony was one where Jesus got ahold of me, set me free, delivered me, and I never looked back.

But that’s not my story.

My journey looks different.

If you would have told me in my 20s that I would fall or compromise, I would have laughed.

But I did.

The lessons I’ve learned have been humbling, and the mercy of God has been greater than I ever imagined.

When I returned to the Lord, He restored me.

But even after restoration, the effects of those lies still lingered.

They followed me into rooms.

They followed me after I spoke.

They whispered comparison, insecurity, and fear.

Anyone who knows me knows that after I spoke publicly, I often battled embarrassment, even when I knew the Lord had moved.

Then I noticed something I couldn’t ignore.

Those same feelings followed me into prayer.

Prayer had always been my safe place.

It had always been the place where I felt the freest.

When shame showed up there, I knew God was putting His finger on something He wanted to heal.

A few days later, I heard lyrics from a song I had never heard before.

“There’s a song of praise only I can bring.”

I couldn’t get away from those words.

There are things only I can say.

No one else can tell my story.

No one else can testify to what God has done in my life the way I can.

Then the Lord showed me something that changed everything.

I wasn’t just hiding myself.

I was hiding the Lord in me.

I was hiding His voice.

I was hiding what He had done in my life.

I realized that every time I shrank back because of fear, shame, or rejection, I wasn’t only withholding my voice.

I was withholding a testimony that belongs to God.

No one can praise Him for what He has done in my life the way I can.

No one can worship Him from my story.

No one can carry my testimony.

Only me.

The Lord began reminding me who I am.

There is no one like me.

No voice sounds like mine.

He loves my voice.

He isn’t asking me to sound like someone else.

He wants my praise.

My worship.

My testimony.

My voice.

He showed me there had been a weight surrounding my voice that He wanted to lift.

That weight is gone.

He healed something in me I didn’t even realize I was still carrying.

This morning, during prayer, my friend said, “The next level of victory is birthed out of your mouth. There is a fire attached to your voice.”

I just smiled.

The Lord had already been telling me the same thing.

If I was able to do everything God asked me to do while carrying shame, what is He going to do now?

This is one of my stone altars.

A reminder that God didn’t just restore me.

He gave me my voice back and I am so glad He did