Just a Touch

A Poetic reflection of the Woman with the Issue of Blood (found in Matthew 9:20-22, Mark 5:25-34, and Luke 8:43-48)

Unclean, that is what you call me.

Unworthy of touch or even to be.

Suffering in silences and quieted by despair.

Alone and isolated, who would even care?

A man in a crowd, surrounded all around.

One who has healing to abound.

But how can I get to you?

Without touching anyone, not even a shoe.

"Just one touch of His robe." I thought,

Not enough to make you distraught.

One strand from your cloak,

That is all I need to cope.

The soft tassel in my hand,

Suddenly, I could stand.

No more blood to keep me captive,

No more need to be adaptive.

Suddenly you turned around.

I knew this was deeply Holy Ground.

My touch made you unclean,

Now I must live up to this and be seen.

But anger did not arise

You simply asked to look at my eyes

The eyes of the one healed

By faith that completely sealed.

My eyes met yours with fear,

But yours met mine with cheer.

"Your faith has made you well,

Go in peace wherever you dwell."

Just some faith is all it took

To see my life in a new look.

Made well and whole in your sight.

By a touch of faith, I am made right.

August 2024