I have a confession to make. Not too long ago, I didn't like you very much. I guess I'll have to admit that I really hated you for what you did to me.

You really treated me rotten, you know? When I came to the marketplace, you shunned me --- some of you even laughed at me. You'd grab your children to protect them from me. To protect them from me!

And you whispered. I hated the whispers. "You know what she must have done, don't you? Some perversion, no doubt!" You called me corrupt! You called me unclean. You shouted at me. "Unclean! Unclean! You're unclean! Go away! Go away! What are you doing here? Don't you know the law?"

The law. The unbearable burden of the law.

It's just . . . it's just that I was sick. That's all. I was sick and in pain and nobody cared. I was bleeding and nobody cared. I spent my entire life savings on doctors and medicines and it didn't do any good. I lost everything and nobody cared.

I had nothing. And I felt nothing, nothing but pain and empty. Except for the bleeding. Every day for twelve years I felt my life just draining away.

I used to have dreams, you know? I'd dream of having a husband and children --- of having a real family. I wanted a little girl who would sit on my lap and listen to stories my mother told me. I wanted someone to hold my hand as I grow old. But my dreams were shattered by this sickness. And my hopes just crumbled by the way you treated me.

But I'd listen to you, when you'd forget about me. In the marketplace, here, when I'd beg for something.

I heard about this Jesus who did wonderful things. I heard that he cured a man possessed by demons. And he raised a man from the dead. And . . . and . . . a leper! I heard he healed a leper! A leper! Untouchable! Like me! So I began to hope again. I thought that if he could heal a leper. . . he might heal me too. I figured that if I could get close enough . . . and if he'd let me get close enough, then maybe, just maybe, I could be healed, to be whole.

He came yesterday, right here in the marketplace. You remember, don't you? He came and everybody crowded around. You wanted to touch him and hear him so much you didn't notice me. So I was able to get close. If only I could touch the hem of his tunic, I could be healed. That's all I could think about. I forgot the law. I forgot everything except my hope.

And then it happened. I felt it! Such power! I couldn't catch my breath! Something was different. I stopped bleeding! I was healed! But then I panicked and tried to slip away. That's when he spoke. "Who touched me!" he said. "Who touched me."

That's when you noticed me. You backed away then because I was unclean to you. The untouchable. I was so ashamed. I not only broke the law just by being there, I made it worse by touching him. I was so scared that all I could do was to fall at his feet.

And then a wonderful thing happened. He took me by the shoulders and pulled me to my feet. He touched me! He didn't just touch me on the shoulders, he touched me here, too, on the inside, in my heart, in my soul, in all of me. I found myself telling him my story until the words just poured out of me. And finally when I was finished he simply smiled and said "Daughter, your faith has healed you."

In that one sentence, he gave me new life. He not only healed my sickness, he touched me here, inside, too. But there's something else. Before he left he said, "Go in peace." Go in peace.

And, now, I have a confession to make. I didn't like you very much for how you treated me. I have to admit that I hated you for the way you treated me. But, you see, part of my healing is to go in peace, and I'm here today to ask for your forgiveness for hating you.

Will you forgive me? Will you accept me?

What does it take to change a heart? What does it take for a person to begin to respond to another person's need?

I think I'm beginning to know the answer to that. And I will never, ever, hate you again. All I can do is to thank that man named Jesus for giving me the healing of peace. I hope you'll find that peace, too, and I believe you will.

Go with Christ.

Go in peace.

Copyright 1995 Debra Bruch