Healed

She said to herself, “If I only touch his cloak, I will be healed.” Matthew 9:21

Desperate.

Sickness, no one understands. No other way. No possibilities.

They don’t see her. Untouched.

So long, untouched.

Forgotten. Shunned. Unclean.

Desperate.

Broken heart, pounding. Her eyes averted.

She is invisible. There is no other other option.

Desperate.

Eyes down, posture low. She avoids. She averts. Anonymous.

Blends in. She is invisible. Unclean. Untouched.

Desperate.

His dirty sandals. His dirty feet. Ratty, threadbare hem.

Her courage. Her faith. Her trembling.

Reaching.

Her hand. Racing mind. Racing heart.

Reaching.

Hopeful. Faithful. Desperate.

Reaching.

Her fingers graze fringe. His power surges. Her healing. Cleansing. Her hope rising.

Eyes meet eyes. His kindness. His compassion. His beloved daughter.

Faith.

Her admission. Slamming heartbeat. Shaking hands.

Healed.

She has hope. She is clean. Standing.

Seen.

I have heard the story of the bleeding woman so many times. I am always moved by her desperation but lately, it has been heavy on my heart when I read it and see how it must have been for her. How lonely. How isolated. To the Jews she was ceremonially unclean. Untouchable. She hadn’t been touched or kissed or hugged in twelve years. What a broken heart she must have been suffering. Through the strength of her faith, she went against her culture, against the societal norm. She went against the Jewish law. She reached out to claim her healing, believing in the power of her savior.

Desperation brought her to Jesus. Desperation made her brave enough to reach out and touch the hem of his garment. But faith. I love the New Living Translations way of saying it. “And he said to her, “Daughter, your faith has made you well. Go in peace. Your suffering is over.” (Mark 5:34) Faith is what caused her to be healed and her suffering to be ended. How many people were jostled and bumped in the crowd around Jesus that day? But her simple touch of his robe, healed her affliction. Because she believed. Jesus felt the power leave his body. The power of her faith in him facilitated her healing.

And then, of course, we can’t overlook the fact that Jesus was cool with it. He had been touched by a ceremonially unclean woman and he wasn’t annoyed or angry or condemning. He called her out and she fell at his feet, possibly waiting to be chastised or worse. Not only did he heal her due to her faith. He saw her. He took compassion on her and told her to take heart. He called her daughter. Although the accounts don’t relay this, in my mind's eye, I see her clinging to him, the first touch in so long, the first touch of many. I see the tears in her eyes as she thanks him and worships him. Think of the ministry this woman must have spread. If her faith was great before her healing, imagine her faith afterwards!

What might have seemed an insignificant occurrence, God inspired scholars to remember and record. This event is preserved for us to read thousands of years later. Why? Maybe to remind us to have great faith and to put our faith into action. Maybe to remind us to treat others with compassion and see the mission-field in the every-day. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s a gentle reminder to see people. See through their affliction. See through their struggles and their stigmas. See them.

And if it seems like the right thing to do… Give ‘em a hug. Who knows the last time they may have been touched.