There was a woman with a flow of blood....
A ruler, privileged, Jairus by name,
requests of Jesus healing for his daughter
by honor's protocol and a father's care.
A woman—a woman—poor, without name,
powerless, isolated by disease
and impoverished by quacks,
does not ask but steals up behind Jesus.
Her improper, unworthy larceny he honors,
as generously as the proper.
He tends, as the privileged waits.
He relates, where disdain has failed her,
and in a gift perhaps greater than cure,
claims her, cares for her as his daughter.
There is no rule he won't break to heal her,
no ranking, first or last,
he won't subvert to include her.
Check the lie that you are unworthy.
Your inadequate plea opens his heart.
He claims you. More than flesh is healed.
Who is she, where do you see her,
hidden in the crowd?
Who will plead for her?
—June 27, 2018