12 years, I moved from physician to physician looking for a cure that would make me whole. Instead, I depleted my father’s inheritance spending all that was in his control. I hid from the day; the mockery was too much. I wept through the nights, the Lord had forgotten me.
But in the 12th year, I heard that He was in town. Yes the one who had given sight to the blind and restored the hearing of the deaf. The one who had given feet to the lame and brought back to life the dead. He was in my town!
Crowds thronged Him and for the first time in 12 years, no one cared that I, unclean, was by their side. I had battled with the life-giving red fluid that run through my body. But they too had a fight and meeting with the Lord was all that mattered.
And with all the strength left in my weakness, I got down on one knee and stretched out to touch the fringe of his garment. “Who touched me?” That moment has lasted a lifetime and because He lives, you too can face tomorrow!
~ Adapted from the Gospel of Matthew. Happy April! He has risen!