I Am Waiting for This Jesus

I am waiting for this Jesus in my suffering and my shame.
He has not heard my story, and he does not know my name,
Yet my options are exhausted, with no other path to choose,
And I know I must approach him, I have nothing left to lose.

For twelve years the doctors bled me, and they left me bleeding still.
They took all of my possessions, broke my body, crushed my will.
For twelve years no one would touch me, and they said I was unclean
As a poor and bleeding woman, unapproachable, unseen.

They said He'd healed a leper, and they said He'd raised the dead,
Yet I feared He would not touch me, so I must touch Him instead.
Now the crowd is pressing round Him, He is passing by this way,
And I follow close behind Him; I must speak to Him today.

All the men who curse and shun me stand between me and the Lord,
Yet I will not be forgotten, and I will not be ignore,
So I place my hope and future in a single, desperate act,
And I push and shove to reach Him, and I find the strength I lacked,
And I find the strength I lacked, and I find the strength I lacked.

Who has touched me? Who has stretched their hand out to me?
In this crowd, all these people, what do you mean, someone touched you?
I have touched you, I believed you could give me healing for my body and my broken heart.

You healed my heart, you healed my body.
Your faith has made you whole, my daughter.
You healed my heart, you healed my body.
Your faith has made you whole, my daughter.
You healed my heart, you called me daughter.
Your faith has made you whole, y daughter.
Go in peace.