The Healer

Unclean. Diseased. Shamed. Humiliated. Ostracized.

Not the life she had envisioned for herself, by any means. When she was a small child, twirling in front of her Papa, she was beautiful; life was full of love and laughter. Her dreams were filled with romance, a loving husband and a home full of children. But dreams fade and life changes. Where once there was love and laughter, now there is only the slow plodding of time, alone…and unclean.

It’s been 12 years now. Twelve years with “an issue of blood.“ 12 years. 4,380 days. 105,120 hours. 6,307,200 minutes. She had counted every minute, marked off every day. She had reached out so often in that time, looking for something, anything that would heal her. She spent all of the money she had on doctor after doctor, yet she only grew worse. She is now at the end of her rope. All of her efforts have failed and she remains diseased -- unclean.

It was at the market in the heat of the day that she overheard someone say he would be passing through town. She had heard rumors of him. Perhaps today she would see him. Perhaps today he would see her. And maybe, just maybe, everything they said about him was true. And, if what they said of him was indeed true, today she would be healed. She knew it in the deepest part of her soul. He was the one. He was the only one who could heal her. He would make her clean. She thought, “If I just touch his clothes, I will be healed.” (Mark 5:28)

Weak and frail, she pressed through the crowd determined to touch Jesus. Heart pounding, filled with joy and fear she pushes on; not wanting to be noticed, but wanting to be healed…to be whole again. The crowd is crushing and the noise is overwhelming as many call out to him, “Son of David; Messiah; healer!” The thought of being clean, unashamed, and no longer an outcast moves her to press on.

And then he was there, passing the place where she stood. She pushed her arm between the two burly men in front of her and she touched him. Her fingertips barely brushed the edge of his clothes. One brief swish of fabric, and immediately the bleeding stopped. The smallest, almost imperceptible, touch at the edge of his garment, and she was suddenly healed. At the moment she touched him, he turned toward where she stood in the crowd and asked, “Who touched my clothes?”, his eyes scanning the multitude of people looking for the one who had touched him.

I believe Jesus knew exactly who had touched him. He knew from the beginning of time that she would be there in the crowd that day. He knew her name. He knew the color of her hair, her height, her weight and everything about her. Most importantly, he knew her heart. He could have continued on his way. He could have ignored her and chalked it up to one more healing miracle among many. But he looked for her and waited for her to come to him.

The Bible says she knew exactly what had happened to her and she fell before him trembling with fear - telling him the whole truth. Knowing the magnitude of mercy and grace bestowed upon her in this miracle, she fell before him confessing all. I believe her fear was a reverential trust in the one who had just made her clean and whole. And what does Jesus say to her? “Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace and be freed from your suffering.”(Mark5:34)

What a beautiful picture of salvation! We can come to him in our sinful filth, fall before him confessing all, with nothing but the tiniest bit of faith; and in that encounter we can be healed, freed from our suffering - made whole!

The Savior is looking for you. His eyes are scanning the crowd. He knows your name, your heart and everything about you. He thinks you are beautiful. He thinks you are worth the effort…and he is waiting for you to come to him. In faith, reach out to him. You too will be made clean and whole. “Don’t be afraid. Just believe.” (Mark 5:36