I Touched Him

There is a biblical story about a woman who was afflicted by (what we assume is) non-ended menses. Now I don’t know about you, but I’m already feeling super bad for her. Add that with a culture who deemed you unclean and life pretty much sucked for her

Now, I’ve been unclean before and so have you. We’ve had dirty hands, feet and boogers in our nose. This is NOT the same “unclean” we are talking about.

We are talking about people avoiding you, what you touch must be disposed of and you can’t even go to Temple with others. Never being touched, isolated, never hugged or have someone to hold your hand in love. Never. Never ever ever amen.

Imagine the zombie plague and you are the zombie. That’s what it was like for her every single day.

But she heard He was coming and maybe if she could just hang out with him and give everything she had, He would heal her.

But the crowds….oh, the crowds that flocked around Him. Hundreds of voices clambering for help, pleas, petitions and the usual hecklers. And there she was, a zombie, in the midst of the crowds that didn’t want to be near her unclean contagion.

Somehow she made it through the crowds pressing in. The guilt of being unclean was somehow made to be a tiny thing once she got close to see Him. Hope was so close.

Close enough she could almost touch it.
So she did.

Just the hem. The barest minimum of fabric adorning his body. She didn’t proclaim his name. She didn’t beg his blessings. She just touched, believed and was healed.

Oh the faith of the desperate can be the most beautiful thing to our Maker’s heart.

He felt it though. A moment that his glory exited his body and he asked “Who touched me?”

Cowering like a guilty child, she threw herself to the ground and insecure from years of being shunned, she whispered “It was I.” She knew she was unclean. She knew the rules and she blatantly disregarded them in a moment of scandalous faith.

She wasn’t cast off. She wasn’t brushed away or kicked like the nasty creature she had grown to believe she was.

Compassionate eyes looked down upon her overflowing with such love and then He spoke the kindest words “Daughter. Your faith has made you well.”

Ok the healing was pretty frickin amazing. No doubt about that.

But the word he used….”Daughter”

That blows me away. Not only was he healing her physical ailment, but he called her His child. His family. He let her know that this huge pedestal she had put him on, she deserved to be right by his side. His child, the heir to the inheritance of a King of kings. No longer isolated, feared or shunned, but a precious member of His family.

Daughter….your faith has made you well.

These things in your life. These ailments that make you feel shunned and unclean. Not worthy to be with the “in-crowd.” Isolated. Misunderstood. Mistreated.

Draw close to see him and even in the smallest movement of barely touching Glory….you will hear gently whispered “Daughter” and it will be uttered in a voice that commands angels and calms storms.

For by your faith…these things are no longer your burden to bear.

Categories: faith

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3 replies

  1. Beautiful. I love it. And your faith has made you well! I am so thankful that I have faith to make me well when I am sick of heart, mind, body or soul.

  2. I just love this story — well, truth.
    I cannot add anything better than what you’ve already said.

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