His shrieks could be heard day and night in the nearby village. The people of the village tried to shackle him – not to help him, but to silence him. But they could not subdue the wretched man. He gave up hope, UNTIL
Jesus stepped out of a boat and into the man’s tortured world.
I asked if I would be able to bring him home on hospice and care for him. “He won’t make it out the door,” the nurse said. “The level of oxygen he’s getting cannot be given on home health care.” So, I eagerly waited for Friday to see him, but that didn’t happen. He died Thursday morning at 4:00am.
Her fingers dug into her palms. She watched the Man pass before her. Her heart beat wildly in her chest. If only I may touch His clothes, I shall be made well. With her eyes fixed on the Man called Jesus, she entered the crowd.