I wonder just how long she waited, watching from afar,
As Jesus healed the sick the blind the lame.
Tortured in her fear, she must have longed to know His touch,
But her weakness made her hide herself in shame.
Until the day that only one thing mattered anymore,
When she pushed aside her self and pride,
And stepped out through her door.




And He could have turned at anytime,
And touched her if He chose,
He didn't have to wait until
She stumbled through to reach His clothes,
But He let her come to Him
Through her weakness and her sin,
He drew her with His love,
And healed her soul.


The crowded street was dusty, 
It was hot, and hard to see,
But none of this could keep her from Him now.
So she found Him and she touched Him,
And she trembled, as she knew
The healing that had swept through her somehow.
She looked into His face, and nothing mattered anymore,
Except that she had found Him, her Savior and her Lord.




O, bring me to the place where nothing matters anymore,
But to know Your grace and see Your face, my Savior and my Lord!

He lets me come to Him, through my weakness and my sin,
He draws me with His love, and heals my soul.


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