A woman worn

with her issues

wanting peace

from worldly care,

heard of One

who healed others--

wished for healing

in her self;

so she stood

among the throng,

but courage fell

to silent tongue.

Quietly,

her thoughts entreated,

“Touch His garment…

that will heal you.”

So with hope

she wrestled closer--

jostling through              

the pushing throng.

Finally,

there…

within her sight

she saw the Man of God.

Reaching out

with timid fingers

her hopeful hand met

with His hem.

And straightway,

as she’d imagined,

all her issues

went away…

Something

in her

soul was healed.

Finally, she was whole.

Savoring

her newfound wholeness,

she paused before                    

she turned away.                                  

Suddenly,

a voice beseeching--

broke-in to

her racing thoughts…

asking whom,

among the host,            

had stolen virtue

from His hem.

Shocked to learn

that He had felt it--

pressed on

from the throng…           

She stood a moment

not disclosing

it was she

who’d touched His hem.

She hoped that his

disciples’ comments

would save her from

her shame revealing,

but she saw the Lord, insistent…

so with timid heart

she answered,

“Master, it was I.”

Trembling ceased--

all fear departed                       

when He blessed her

with His eyes.

Comfort came                         

when He said,                          

“Daughter…”                          

Lovingly,

He also told her

“Go in peace.

Thy faith

hath made thee whole.”

I live in times

that are far distant

from the scene

that once took place,

but in my heart

I’m not so different

from that woman

with her issues--

When downtrodden

with my own issues,

and in need

of burden lifting,

or I feel my

faith is slipping;

I too seek

the Lord of healing--                            

Searching for

virtue and solace

and His loving balm

of  “Daughter…”

Reaching with my words  

and wishing

for His hem

to make me whole…