Today, amid all the insecurities, I saw the Lord.
I spent hours in his presence, along bustling streets, full of anxiety, doubts, and fears, pressing close on every side.
Looking for just the hem of his robe, to reach out and be perhaps be healed.
I bowed my face to the ground, reaching out in desperation, hand flailing in the air, failing to find the hem.
Just the hem, I said. It’s all I need. It can heal me of this thing that is eating me alive.
Just them hem, Jesus. Just your hem!
He had more in store.
I looked up and saw him looking right back at me. Eyes overflowing with grace.
His arms were extended to me.
I look at the transformed surroundings around me: the throne room.
Robed in a brilliant, bright white robe, his hem was nowhere in sight, because his robe fills the entire room.
Then it hit me: the hem is not enough.
But He is. And I need all of him to overcome.
Because of the victory in Christ’s resurrection, the Father gives me more than the hem. He gives me himself. He takes me in his arms and whispers, “Your faith in me–not in my hem–heals you. Be at peace. I have overcome it all. Go, walk in the freedom I have released you into. Don’t settle in fear and anxiety to look only for my hem. Come to me, Daughter. Come to me and lay it down. Day after day after day. Moment by moment.”
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I spent hours in his presence, along bustling streets, full of anxiety, doubts, and fears, pressing close on every side.
Looking for just the hem of his robe, to reach out and be perhaps be healed.
I bowed my face to the ground, reaching out in desperation, hand flailing in the air, failing to find the hem.
Just the hem, I said. It’s all I need. It can heal me of this thing that is eating me alive.
Just them hem, Jesus. Just your hem!
He had more in store.
I looked up and saw him looking right back at me. Eyes overflowing with grace.
His arms were extended to me.
I look at the transformed surroundings around me: the throne room.
Robed in a brilliant, bright white robe, his hem was nowhere in sight, because his robe fills the entire room.
Then it hit me: the hem is not enough.
But He is. And I need all of him to overcome.
Because of the victory in Christ’s resurrection, the Father gives me more than the hem. He gives me himself. He takes me in his arms and whispers, “Your faith in me–not in my hem–heals you. Be at peace. I have overcome it all. Go, walk in the freedom I have released you into. Don’t settle in fear and anxiety to look only for my hem. Come to me, Daughter. Come to me and lay it down. Day after day after day. Moment by moment.”
