I need to meet this man, He is the healer of all things. She crawled on the streets where He would pass by, she was the woman with blood issues, visited countless physicians and lost all her money to them, He was her only hope, the attachment keeping her gripping strong to her silver cord.
She knew that He was going to pass by, she knew that she was going to be healed once she came in contact with Him, even if He did not pass by, she had the faith that could flip mountains which simply knew that He would come, and she would be healed. Waiting, not something that could shake her unfaltering faith.
I would be healed once I come in contact with Him, the wait is worth everything. She kept this thought lingering in her mind, she sat on the dusty ground where everyone else was walking past her, leaving an ignorant staleness in the air. Another set of wait, another set of being left out in the oblivion, a new set of ignominious eyes stared right into my broken soul.
Why are they looking at me like this? That could not shake her faith, but just to further strengthen her patience and perseverance. A wave of preeminent nonentity swept through the crowd in white. It’s him. She knew it, she mustered every ounce of energy in her to squeeze through the crowd to get herself healed.
This was her only and irrevocable chance, she crawled, pushed, into contact with the hem of his white robes. She touched it, barely. “Who touched me?” His voice was commanding, questioning. She stood up, she ran away, she was healed.
She was unstoppable.