Weighed down by fear, in deep despair, I cried,
"Oh, Father, heal me of my sore distress,"
And waited;
But my answer did not come.
When after long, dark days, at length I learned
That God sees only that which He has made,
And calls it good,
Was not my answer there?
He sees no evil, therefore ill is not,
Has never been, for God is ever All,
And I His child,
His image, pure, complete.
Then with what joyous gratitude, I prayed,
"Father, I thank Thee that I now perceive,
Though dimly,
Thou art Life, and Truth, and Love."
Thus, like the woman who in Jesus' time
Touched but his garment's hem in lowly faith,
I too was healed;
I too had touched the Christ.
