"Just His Hem"

Those who said

they would help

have only hurt me



The blood

won’t stop

coming & all

these wounds

refuse to be



But I heard a rumor


it caused my heart

to leap inside

my frail & aching



They say:

a man—

a prophet—

a healer—

has come to Israel



In the crowd

I hide my face

behind my shawl.

I hope no one

recognizes me—


I don’t belong here.


All who touch me

are unclean &

in this crowd

I could pollute

dozens—yet do I really

seek to touch him?


Not him

I say to myself

just his hem—

if I can just touch

the hem of his robe

I know I will be healed—


After all this time

walking alone

perhaps I could be

a mother—

a friend—

a daughter—



When my fingers

graze fabric I feel

the Power working.

My body feels

more whole

than it has in

twelve long years,

but with the joy comes

like a lightning flash

both awe & terror.


What have I done?


But before I can slip

away anonymous &

unnamed his eyes

turn toward me.

His gaze is searching

& he’s asking;

“Who touched me?”

And I, shaking

in a body only

moments made whole,

confess it all

before him.


I thought

he would

chastise me

for making him


instead I feel

his hand beneath

my chin, lifting

my eyes to his gaze.


He looks at me

like he knows me

from the top of my head,

to the soles of my feet.

He calls me daughter

& says my faith

has made

me well.


If only everyone

could be seen

like this—

his loving gaze

made well

parts of me

even miracles

couldn’t heal.


Grace Kelley is a writer, speaker, and podcast co-host, inviting you to kneel down in the dirt of your difficult circumstances and plant seeds of hope, trusting that in time they will grow into something glorious. You can connect with her on her Blog, InstagramTwitter, or Facebook and be sure to follow her brand-new podcast “The Rock and a Holy Place.” Grace lives in sunny Northern Colorado with her husband and three small kids where she balances her love of gardening and tea drinking with her hatred of folding laundry. 


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