Another year with the same issue

One that I did not subscribe to

But each time without fail

It arrives.


Another day with another friend

Sending words of encouragement

That it won’t last forever

Except forever is here and refuses to leave


I want a refund, I never signed up for this

Please redirect the mail to someone else


Why me?


It has been 11 long years,

Not that I am counting of course.

But at least I am counting something

Even if it’s not my blessings

And no, I am not surprised

And I am yet to see what the Lord has done


I’ve gone far and wide

I’ve spent a little and I’ve spent a lot

I’ve prayed and I have fasted.

I’ve done all I can and still

It bleeds.


I hear He is coming.

I’ve heard about his exploits

Maybe I’ll go and see Him.

I have nothing to lose

Except my mustard seed


The crowd is large

Everyone wants to see Him.

Jesus is sold out

To the people and He is filled with compassion


I won’t be able to see Him up close and personal

But the crowd is ahead of me

And I’m running against the tide

Against the flow that threatens to come out

My faithful ‘friend’ gently reminding me that

I’ve got mail.


I’m pushing and shoving

And God forgive me but I just need to get to Him

Before my mustard seed withers

Because that is all I have


I can see the back of His head

And that is enough

I try to call Him but my voice is one of many

In this sea of hope


He does not hear me.


It hits me that I may not see Him

But I can touch Him.

If He can’t help me nobody else can.

And so I reach out.


If I can just touch the hem

That’s all I ask for

Just the hem of His Garment

I will be made whole


And in an instant everything changes

No more moistness

But He is off again and then He



“Who touched me”

Silence. One of the disciples tries to brush it off

After all the crowd is large

But He is not budging.

“I felt power leave me”


And that’s when I come forward

Everyone touched Him but He did not touch everyone

The power leaving Him met my mustard seed

And allowed it to grow.


I step forward to confess.

At least I will see Him face to face.


“It is I. I touched you and immediately I’ve been made whole

12 years this issue plagued me but here, in an instant after I touched you

I’ve been healed.

Halleluiah I have been healed”.

He looks at me with love and says

“It is well my daughter. Your faith is what has made you whole. 

Go on in peace”


And suddenly I am overcome

And awash with tears

Shame is no longer my surname.


I am whole.