“Who touched me?” Jesus asked.”

“Who touched me?” Jesus asked.”
How can it be that in a mist of a crowded place an act of desperation left you impacted.
Oh Lord you said my faith has healed me.
Look at my trembling self as I fall apart in your presence freely.
You see I hungered and thirst for your almighty power to flee this flood of blood.
It’s been years of me physically out pouring but…
Just a touch of the border of your mantle.
Every fragile piece of me untangled.
I fell.
I broke.
I weakened.
No longer drained.
No longer leaking.
No longer needing.
The power of your touch became my open door to healing.
Now you see Lord why I fell to your feet.
I was damaged.
I was ruined.
I was dying internally.
I ran through this crowd and secretly reached to you.
You didn’t see me but you felt power withdrew.
Immediately you had to ask who, yet you knew it was me who pursued.
A touch.
A miracle.
A move.
You said it was my faith.
I believe it was because you are my father.
For you knew me without knowing me and called me “daughter”.
I knew I had to run to where you were.
But you knew this act was the step that caused my agony to out run.

Now I walked under calmness.
Now I walk under joy.
Now I walk under a weightless self.
Now I know how true my father’s words were to me.
“Then he said to her, “Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace.”
Now I knew the peace I was under no longer had room for any other disease.

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