The Robe of Christ has no power alone, Its strength is found in the One it has shown. Through woven threads, so many have sought, But the power was Jesus—the gift they forgot.
Hands reached out to the garment’s hem, Yearning for hope, as with women and men; Yet healing came not from fabric or thread, But from Christ within, risen from the dead.
The nearer we draw, the brighter the flame, Piercing the shadows, removing our shame. At times, scales form to shield from the light But His love breaks through the darkest of night.
And when those scales at last fall away, His true love shines clearer than the day. No robe, no relic, no earthly sign Just Jesus our Savior, forever divine.
Jhn 8:12 Then spake Jesus again unto them, saying, I am the light of the world: he that followeth me shall not walk in darkness, but shall have the light of life.
