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Friday 26th February

Healing of the paralytic (Luke 5:17-26)

When my friends came

I was propped,

Watching the children play

Trying, as I watched their joy

To ignore for a moment

Memories of when I too would run,

Or sit at their side,

Holding them close

To comfort them.

They told me their plan,

To take me to the rabbi.

Someone special, they said,

A miracle-worker.

I laughed.

But they would not be dissuaded,

So, ignoring my embarrassment,

They hoisted me on a pallet,

Walked me to the house

Where the rabbi was talking.

So many emotions battled inside:

The tiniest glimmer of hope,

So easily choked

By years of despairing immobility,

A rigidity of soul

As much as of legs.

So I was almost relieved to see the crowd

And know they could not reach him.

Undeterred, caring neither for the destruction

Of his roof nor my humiliation,

They found a way,

And I was at his feet.

He looked at me.

And I knew in that instant,

Regardless of his words,

That he had seen me in a way

That no-one else had,

Enfolding all that held me captive

In his forgiving love.

I do not care about their religious debates.

I only know that this man healed me.

In every way.

By Jeannie Kendall

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