A weary journey
Coming down from the mountain
Followed by many
The Son of God
The Savior of the world
The Healer, but rejected by most
A multitude crowded in so curious
A multitude sick and hurting
A multitude there to condemn and judge
A leper who was desperate
A leper who believed
A leper who had such great faith
Leper
I am no better than a rodent
People, old “friends” stare and point
I hear whispers before they run away
I have no cure, but am destined to live
A life of loneliness and misery
I am worthless trash
I had heard the rumors
That there was a Man
Someone who healed the sick
Who welcomed the rejected
A Master who’s touch was of Power
A Man different than the rest
I looked at my tarnished skin
How could I not at least try?
I gathered enough courage
I would have elbowed my way towards the Man
But I needn’t shove my way, for they scattered
When they saw the likes of me
He saw me too, so I bowed to worship
“Lord, if You are willing,
You can make me clean.”
My simple plea left my lips
Before I could think twice
I bowed before the Man who could free me
I was taking a chance
But one worth taking
For the Man named Jesus
Reached out His hand toward me
And I felt His healing touch
“I am willing; be cleansed.”
I look at my once red, white, and blotchy skin
It was now clean and new
As a newborn child, soft and unblemished
I looked up into the Man’s eyes
Eyes that searched my own tear-filled ones
What kind of Man would touch a leper like me?
Only the Son of God, the Healer, the Savior of the World



