The World of Disney store is packed.

Music overhead. Kids weaving through aisles. Strollers everywhere.

I’ve got my two oldest boys strapped into the double stroller. My wife is somewhere on the other side of the store with our daughter. The boys are content, playing with their toys and arguing over something small.

I keep rolling.

I’m not looking for anything.

Across the aisle, I see her.

Mid-40s. Sitting on one of those walkers with the built-in seat.

Not elderly. Not fragile.

Just stuck.

My heart kicks up.

It still does this. Every time. Like stage fright that never fully leaves.

I glance down at the boys. They’re half paying attention, mostly in their own world.

Good enough.

I steer over.

“Hi, I’m Addison.”

“Nice to meet you, I’m Jodie.”

“I hope you don’t mind me asking, but how’d you end up with the walker?”

She laughs. Light about it. Says she works at the store. A guest on a power scooter rammed her ankle weeks ago. Then, a cast member clipped the same leg with a golf cart not long after.

Now she can’t stand for more than a few seconds.

My nerves spike again. I flip it.

“Mind if I pray for it?”

“Oh, I’d love that.”

I lean down. Hands on her ankle.

“In Jesus’ name, be healed. Work as you were created to. Everything back to normal.”

I ask her to stand.

She does.

No wince.

Her face changes.

“I don’t feel anything. It’s gone.”

I tell her not to sit back down in the walker. Put it in a locker. Give it away. Sell it. Whatever the Lord tells her. Just don’t get stuck in it again.

She tells me she’s a believer. We pray and thank Jesus together right there in the aisle.

I start to push the stroller away.

Three steps.
Stop.
I turn back.

This time, I pray over her life. That God would use her to bring life — and now healing — to her coworkers, friends, family and others.

Twenty minutes later, I’m back with my wife when we see her again.

Standing.

Smiling.

Greeting customers.

No walker in sight.

The store is loud.
Bright.
Chaotic.

This doesn’t feel like the type of environment for Holy Spirit encounters.
If anything, the rush of neon-lit consumerism feels like the opposite. 

Healing belongs in sanctuaries.
With soft music.
Preferably after the third chorus.

It feels easier when the lights are low and everyone already agrees on what God is about to do.

A retail floor doesn’t offer that.

We quietly decide this must not be the setting for healing.

Jesus said, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to Me.” (Matthew 28:18)

Then He sent His followers out to preach the Kingdom of God — and to tell people, “The kingdom of God has come near you.”

Near.

They brought it with them.

The Kingdom is not a mood.
It is not a harmonious chord in a concert hall-style church.
It is not a controlled environment where everyone agrees.

It’s where God reigns.

And when you walk into a room — a hospital room, a grocery aisle, a Disney store — you do not enter neutral territory.

You bring the reign of Heaven with you.

Where the Kingdom is present, darkness must answer to the King. [Hyperlinks to Galatians 2:20; Colossians 1:27; Colossians 2:9-10; Romans 8:11; Ephesians 1:22-23; Luke 10:9]

Until next time,
Addison.

Here’s a simple guide to start healing in Jesus’ name today:

If you want deeper answers including more detailed steps, I’ve put together a full training resource and FAQ here:

👉 In Jesus Name: A Divine Healing Study