A bit of a change from my usual writing style . . . an attempt at a bit of story writing . . .
"Who touched my clothes?"
The moment I touched just the corner of His cloak I knew I was healed. Somehow He knew it too. And now, He wanted to know who it was who had touched Him.
There's no way I could say it was me. Everyone know my issue. I shouldn't have even made my way into the crowd that day. I was unclean . . . isolated . . . alone.
Maybe if I just keep quiet and slip away, He'll forget about it and move on. Decide it was just the crowds of people pressing in around Him.
"Who touched Me?"
He asked again. He's not giving up on finding this out. His eyes are searching the crowd. I try to avoid making eye contact with Him.
It doesn't seem like He's going to give up on finding this person. I guess I have to admit it was me.
Terrified, I admit that it was me. I can feel the glares of those around me as I step forward. I shouldn't have been among them. I made them all unclean by daring to come to touch Him.
I expect judgement . . . condemnation. That's what I'm used to receiving. But not from Him. He looks at me with compassion.
I told Him everything. About what made me unclean - all the details - and how just touching the corner of His cloak had healed me.
"Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace and be freed from your suffering."
No judgement. No scorn. No shame.
Just love. Compassion. Everything I hadn't felt in twelve years, He restored in moments.
I had become so desperate for healing that I didn't care about the cost anymore. I was going to pursue Him so I could be healed. There was nothing that could hold me back any longer. That's why I broke the rules. I didn't care anymore about the rules. I just wanted to be healed, and when I touched His cloak I was.
I've read the story of Jesus healing the woman who had been bleeding for twelve years many time. Three of the gospels record it - Matthew 9:20-22, Mark 5:24-34, and Luke 8:43-48. Until I realized how desperate the woman would have been to do what she did, I didn't get the significance of Jesus calling her out.
This woman broke all of the cultural rules when she did this. She was the desperate to get to Jesus.
Jesus knew who she was. He was God. He didn't ask the question because He didn't know. He wanted the woman to speak up. In identifying her to the crowd around Him, Jesus was making it clear that no one is an outcast or has reason to live in shame in His kingdom. We can bring all our mess and pain to Him and He heals it and restores us to full life in His family.
The woman would never be the same again. And we won't be either if we bring our pain and our mess to Jesus for Him to heal.
But I don't think that anyone in that crowd would have been the same again if they had really been paying attention to what was going on. Jesus made it okay to admit our pain and mess so He can heal it. And He wants to restore the full life to us that He created us for.
And those stories of healing are then for us to share with others. To remind them of the hope that comes when we take our mess, our pain, our shame to Jesus and allow Him to heal it. Our desperation for healing, produces stories that show the truth of what God's kingdom is all about.