These past twelve years I have tried to not complain,
But it has been so difficult
My body betrays me
With its infirmity
The law pronounces me an outcast
Look at my sisters – they stand proudly
Amongst their children
Oh, to be healthy and strong as them
The doctors cannot help me
Over the years have found no cure
How I long to be well again
Without this source of constant affliction
With me wherever I go
This shadow of fear that follows me –
Others have died
Will I die too?
Who is this man I am hearing of? –This Jesus
Who heals all who come to Him.
What magic powers does He have, what miracle cure?
Does He know more than the doctors?
It’s worth a try, I am desperate enough to try anything
Maybe He is the answer
There He is in the crowd, why look at them, swarming
Like bees to the honey-pot
I won’t even have a chance to ask Him
Maybe – this power that He has, if I just touched Him,
Just on the hem of his robe, so He won’t know
Just touch Him, quickly and run away
What power is this? For I know
After all these years
I can scarcely dare to believe it
My sorrow is no more
It's turned to joy!
I am whole!
I am free!
I am free!
What power is this?
“Who touched me?”
He is looking around and his eyes are on me
He sees me
Oh, those eyes
His face – like a king!
Who am I, that I should steal His power?
Yet he sees me
He knows me
Knows my secret shame
Is flooding my heart with light
I thought the greatest gift would be
The end of suffering
But now I know it is to be
The beginning of knowing Him
His smile, his voice,
Like that of no one else
This man, this king this …God
I touched the hem of his garment
And then I saw His face.
copyright Josephine Collett March 2008
The account of the woman who touched Jesus' garment is told in the Bible books of Matthew chapter 9, Mark chapter 5 and Luke chapter 8.