Yet I grope through the crowd with a skeleton prayer.
I wish to escape all the eyes that would probe,
But, Lord, let me just touch the hem of Your robe.
Unclean, I approach You, ashamed of my sin
And reach out to know that You’ve healed me within.
You know it—You’d planned it—the powerful touch.
Only the Christ loves a beggar so much.
Of all those who touch You, who press You this day
The power comes only to those who will say:
“Lord, I’ll pursue You. Lord, You may probe.
But, Lord, let me just touch the hem of Your robe!”
In church, Sunday, Nathaniel shared from Colossians 4 about prayer, exhorting us to pray like beggars. I’ve been mulling over his words since, meditating on a beggar’s relationship to a king. It’s not unthought-of of that a kind king would look at a beggar—might even give her a gift, speak to her or touch her. In the story of the woman with the issue of blood (Luke 9:43-48), our King proves the power of His love: in one instant, he adopted a beggar.
“Daughter, your faith has made you well. Go in peace.”