On Separate Sides Of The Cross His Fringe Is Touched

"She came up behind Jesus and touched the fringe of his robe." Luke 8:44

It's constant, his itch and pain. It lingers, and flares, and covers his little body. This sickness of the skin. I know, he knows, we all know, but yet he keeps going, never saying, just playing. All while it rages, and covers, this itch, this pain. 

"He's three!" I murmur. But I know, he knows, we all know, it could be so much worse, so we give praise, we say our thanks. We are blessed. He's alive, he's ours, he smiles and laughs. He is busy and squirmy, funny and smart. He's alive and healthy, so we are blessed, we are thankful. 

It's been long, this battle of the skin, sickness, and cyst. Three years long. As we wade through one more opinion, one more doctor to offer relief. One more scan of this little brain, we pray, we trust, we know, we all know...we are blessed. 

This woman, three years is short to her suffering of 12 years. The bleeding, the draining of life, energy, and strength. Living as an outcast, rejected, and called unclean. She knows suffering and pain. She has waded through the opinions of doctors, praying one, just one could bring relief. 

When one day, her on one side of the cross and him on the other, He came. He came and brought relief. The two, one grown and one only three, know, relief has come, and without words, just faith, they reach up and touch the fringe of His robe.