Touching the garment of Jesus |
This wretched woman's time had come To reconcile her sins and pains Her own blood had become her cage As spirit dripped from her sweet frame She yearned to reach out and adore To exorcize her scarlet foe And find a rare and blessed relief That only this man could bestow Her breath in gasps, her heart aflame She gently negotiates the crowd Until she spies salvation's form His garment whiter than the clouds With secret prayer she extends her hand And gently grasps his flowing gown Desperate that he does not Notice her and turn around For this moment she has lived Enduring lonesome misery Till hope appeared in prophet form And a promise that could set her free But as she knelt with hand gripped tight The garment's owner sensed her touch And turned to gaze upon her plight And stooped and smiled and raised her up His face ablaze with love and joy Her spirit soared and her heart did swell As he praised her courage and her faith And told her they had made her well The Christ had conquered blood and pain And other times the sightless eyes Had calmed the storm and eased the rain And even death his will despised He taught patience and mercy true To trust in God to set things right And forgive those who learn to hate And cease from anger and it's fight He made no riches, nor praises sought But humbled he at others feet Rejected men's sad power games And thus selfishness did defeat Today this world acclaims his name And sings his praises publicly Two billion followers know his words And call us “Christianity” Yet, if this world's “Christian” lands Are grasping Jesus' garment tight Then why is peace so far away And nations ready or the fight? For not prince of politics is Jesus Lord or king of fury thus unleashed But for grace and God's own glory Is he the blessed “Prince of Peace” |