Her Healing

By Gerald Sumeracki

She was a woman of the streets,
None cared that she would die,
She spent her wealth to seek a cure,
Now bread she could not buy.

For years she sought the doctors out,
For years she bled in pain,
But no one cared as now she cried,
No loss to man's disdain.

She found a crowd that filled a street,
And asked a stranger there,
The reason why they gathered thus,
On this a day so fair.

The answer filled her soul with joy,
For Jesus Christ would pass,
"Perhaps He'll bless me with His hand,
"And help this hurting lass."

She pushed her way up through the crowd,
To where the Lord would stride,
And knew beyond all human doubt,
She would not be denied.

"If I just touch his garment's hem,
"As past me He does move,
"My life long pain and bleeding sore,
"From me He will remove."

And as she hoped it thus occured,
That Jesus came up near,
She reached and touched his garment's hem
With faith and cautious fear.

The Lord stopped fast and looked around,
And asked who touched Him last,
His followers said, they could not tell,
For hundreds they had passed.

Jesus told them power had moved,
From His soul to heal,
They asked the crowd,"Who touched the Lord,
"Who reached out with such zeal?"


The woman stepped up to the Lord,
In fear she did confess,
That touching Him was her last hope,
That God would finally bless.

Jesus said "Your faith has healed,
"So now be on your way,
"For God has blessed your prayer with health,
"Your sore has gone away.

And thus it was that lovely day,
A woman close to death,
With just the faith that God did grant,
Did find the Spirit's breath.