Matthew 8:1-3:

            When Jesus came down from the mountain, great throngs followed Him.

            And behold, a leper came up to Him and, prostrating himself, worshiped Him, saying, Lord, if You are willing, You are able to cleanse me by curing me.

            And He reached out His hand and touched him, saying, I am willing; be cleansed by being cured.  And instantly his leprosy was cured and cleansed.

The Suffering of a Leper

I heard of His healing power and knew He was sent by God.  I listened to His sermon on the mountain.  I knew He was the Lord.

“Oh, Lord, I want to be healed.  Have compassion on me,” I whispered as I carefully made my way to Him.  I didn’t want to infect anyone else and have them suffer as I have with this disease.  Everyone could see the physical suffering I endured, but it was so much more than that.

My heart broke the day my fate was pronounced.

“You are unclean.  In order to keep everyone else safe, you must not let them come close to you.”  The priest seemed so used to telling others this that he showed no pity.

I first thought of my family . . . my mother and father, my wife, and my children.  I could no longer be near them.

As time passed, I began to long for the simple touch of another human being.  Many nights in my restless sleep, I would dream of embracing my children, tasting my wife’s lips as we kissed, or simply shaking the hand of a stranger.  Yet, as people would draw near, all I could do was yell, “Unclean! Unclean!”

Some of the passersby would give looks of disgust and quickly move away.  A small few would give looks of sympathy and pity while trying keep a safe distance between us. 

“Oh, Lord, why not kill me?”  The fate of death seemed so much kinder than the shame and pain of this cursed disease. 

The sores took over my body.  There was never a moment I didn’t suffer from physical pain.  I hardly slept, unless I passed out from exhaustion.  My heart broke as I had glimpses of my children growing up without me. 

Then, one day, I heard people talking of a Man.  Some said He was a teacher, some said a prophet.  I quietly followed a group to this Man.  There were so many others listening to Him.  I got as close as I could and listened. 

As I listened to Him, I heard others talking of how this Man healed the sick.  My heart leapt.  Would He heal me?  I knew He had to be sent by God.  I knew He was the Lord. 

I carefully made my way through the crowd.  There were some that saw my sickness and I heard murmurs as I passed.  Yet, many were so captivated by this Man that they never looked my way. 

My heart grew heavy as I drew closer to Him.  Would He really heal me?

Finally, there He was . . . my only Hope.  I knew as soon as He looked at me, He truly was Lord. 

I fell on my face before Him.  “Lord, if You are willing, You are able to cleanse me by curing me.”

To my surprise, He touched me.  For the first time since being pronounced unclean, someone touched me.  I looked up at Him and saw compassion in His eyes, a compassion deeper than any I had known before.

“I am willing,” there was power in His voice, “be cleansed by being cured.” 

I felt a tingling on my skin, as if His voice and the power it held swept over my whole being like a strong wind. When I looked at my hands, they were as clean and smooth as that of a little child just bathed.  My hands, my arms, my feet, my legs: there was no trace of the disease on me. 

The Lord, my Lord, healed me!