Precious in His Eyes

Shame is what I feel,
hidden from all eyes,
an unclean ordeal
my hope slowly dies:
Me; bleeding
misreading
taking in the lies.

Outcast from connection,
lonely and afraid,
no one wants infection
my touch they evade;
Me; broken
wounds open
pity on parade.

Jesus coming nearer,
crowds around are pressing,
nothing to endear her
reaching for His blessing;
Christ; power
shame devour
more than bleeding, healing!

Daughter is my new name,
seen as precious in His eyes,
acceptance now I claim
faith and hope begins to rise;
Christ; strengthens
rest lengthens
secure in the grace He supplies.

Note: Written from the perspective of the woman who suffered constant bleeding for 12 years.

Mark 5 : 34 "daughter.... your faith has made you well. Go in peace. Your suffering is over"

This poem was a finalist in the March 2023 poetry contest