The Leper Who FeltMature

I was reading through a list of leprosy symptoms last night and it was like I was reading through a list of things I've struggled with dealing with emotional numbness.

I've become infected with a disease that aside from a miracle is incurable.

I'm a leper.

No longer visible to the world I've become an outcast. To my family I'm as good as dead. Anyone who reaches out to me is considered unclean by society. If I was to set foot in my home again my entire family would suffer unbearable consequences.

It must be best this way.

I can't feel anything anymore, and it scares me.

I reach for something that will help me remember what it's like to sense.

Anything.

My hands clasp on a knife. Before I even realize what I'm doing my arm is covered with horrid, bloody cuts.

I still feel nothing. I am completely numb to the world.

I feel untouchable. Worthy of no mercy. Maybe I am just as as unclean as everyone says as they point and jeer.

I hear talk of someone who can take this away. It must be a rumor started by some weary old soul to give us outcasts hope.

Who would want to help us? We are the worthless. The outcast. Best left alone.

Days pass and my cuts do not heal. Weeks pass and my scars are still raw.

Then one day I see Him. He's here. He's actually here. Not in the city with the rich and popular. He's with us. The outcasts. The ones who can give him nothing. The ones society wants to ignore.

He comes to me. I lower my eyes afraid to make eye contact. Ashamed. Full of regrets. Regretting everything I've done.

He puts his hand under my chin and looks me directly in the eye.

It feels like He is looking directly through me. Peering into my soul. Speaking into my heart. Ministering to my tired and weary flesh.

I open my mouth to speak, but before I say a word He cuts me off...

"My daughter. I know."

A surge of emotions flood my body, and for the first time in years I can feel again. 

The End

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