Touched.

I have been bleeding for 12 years. Unclean from the inside out. 12 years of isolation, 12 years of being so alone. These days, it doesn’t take much for a passerby to recognize just how unclean I am. The sickness within has become so visible these days. So I distance myself as much as I can from anyone around me. I have become a hermit, alone, separated from the rest of the world.

It wasn’t always this way. Early on, I had hope for a cure when the bleeding first started. Women bleed, its a part of life. Prolonged bleeding wasn’t the end of the world. It was after the third doctor that I began to slowly lose hope. They all said the same thing, they couldn’t help and sent me away. I saw the pity in their eyes as they declared a hopeless diagnosis, as if their words were declaring a verdict over my life – forever unclean, forever incurable, forever sick. 

So I began to search wider and further for a doctor with a cure. Unable to work, I put my life savings into the efforts. My family at the beginning even helped me out. I guess they all thought the same thing – how much longer could this possibly go? The bleeding had to stop at some point, right? That I just needed to find the right doctor, with the right herb and diagnosis, the right solution to this problem. 

But even the far off doctors said the same thing as the rest, they had no explanation and no cure. They took my money, they examined me and then sent me off, empty handed with a growing cloud of hopelessness hanging over my head. 

That’s when I packed up what little I had and wandered off from my family. I couldn’t bear the shame I brought to them, an unclean daughter, sister, friend. I couldn’t bear the burden and so I left, becoming a wanderer and a beggar. As the years passed, the cloud of hopelessness had moved in and become a storm dictating my life wherever I went. There was no possibility of redemption in this mess of my life. I was sick, weak and forever tainted by this sickness. It was within but but it had become me. I was my issue of blood.

I had recently come to a town in Galilee called Capernaum where I had found a place to make shelter a little ways off from the city. Where I had set up camp gave me access to hear the travelers talk as they came into town. They spoke of a man Jesus from Nazareth who had come to town recently. It wasn’t the first time I had heard of this name. Jesus had been whispered about for quite some time in the towns I had a passed through. I had heard the talk of the Man who had come, who performed signs and wonders among us, talk that He possibly could be the Promised One we awaited. But it was just talk. The interesting thing about this talk is that it didn’t stop. I overheard story after story about this Man. I listened closer to the two men walking into town as they seemed to be discussing new stories.

“I heard that He healed a Roman.” one of the men said.

“I heard it was a Roman officer’s servant that He healed, and that he didn’t even need to go lay hands on the man for him to be healed,” the other man said back. He kept going, “I even heard that He raised a widow’s son back to life outside the gates of a town.”

“It’s amazing what I continue to hear about Him. It makes me wonder if He is the promised Messiah.” The other man responded.

“I don’t know, but what I do know is many who are healed of diseases, sicknesses and even evil spirits are because of Him! I can’t wait to see Him today, they say He’s here in this town.”

I couldn’t hear the rest of the conversation as the two men had walked out of range but what they had said had caused me to pause. I had heard other stories about Jesus of Nazareth and what those two men said were new extraordinary stories – even the dead were raised? Could it even be possible for Jesus to heal me? 

I had spent all that I’ve had on finding healers and doctors to cure me with no luck. And each time I had been turned away, it had caused deep emotional pain, creating a chasm of grief inside me. Every day the chasm threatened to swallow me whole as the words continually declared over me ring in my head – incurable. 

As I sat there by my camp, that chasm of grief loomed over me once again. Those men said that Jesus had recently performed astounding miracles, on top of the countless stories I had heard before. It seemed that Jesus healed everyone who came to Him. But could He heal me?

They had said He was here, in the same town as me. I sat there and thought about my condition. What would He say when He saw me? Would He declare the same thing the other doctors and healers declared over me, the only hopeless case Jesus had ever seen, something that was even out of His power? I felt that way, 12 years and counting of this illness. It felt so much like this was a part of me that it was never leaving. 

As I sat there thinking, I overheard quite a few other people walk by and into town, all excitedly talking about Jesus of Narazeth, the miracle worker. By the time I had heard the 5th group of people walk by, I had made up my mind – I was going to see Him. Either way of what He said, I had to try. That same thing that drew me to seek out healing reared up in me again, it could work. He could have answers. 

So I packed up my meager things and headed into town, careful to keep a distance from any others I encountered for fear that they would see my disease and call me out for being unclean. Better stay far away, better to keep a distance from everyone else. It was safer that way.

It was pretty easy to navigate into town and to where Jesus of Nazareth had to be because people were coming seemingly from every street all in the same direction towards the center of town. I kept my distance, weaving between alleyway and side street, trying to follow the direction of the crowd. I heard more noise as I approached, hidden in a nearby alleyway where I saw a crowd moving towards my direction with people in the middle. That had to be Him.

“Jesus! Jesus!” They cried out, all pressing towards Him, trying to get His attention. He appeared to be following an older looking gentleman who was dressed as a local religious leader. Other men around Jesus were pushing back the crowd. From where I was standing I could see Jesus walking in my direction. Now was my chance, I could flag Him down, ask Him to take a look at my condition, even heal me. 

He was getting closer and closer and continued on in my direction. It was now or never to try to get His attention. 

But there were too many people and it was just another foolish idea I had tried a thousand times. It was going to end just like all the times before, with another declaration that I was incurable. 

So I watched Him walk by, the grief and hopelessness overwhelmed me. How could I ask this Man to heal me when so many others had told me they could not? How do I dare look at this Man in the face when the shame of my sickness told me I was not worthy? My uncleanliness could not be any more apparent in this moment. 

So I stood frozen in my hidden alleyway spot as He walked past, continuing on in His intended direction. As I had been for most of my life, I remained in the shadows, in the darkness of hopelessness and shame. 

The same feeling I had earlier in the day, drawing me towards Jesus bubbled up once again inside me. It was a feeling of hope, of possibility, a feeling that the impossible could become possible. And in that moment, I felt an empowerment to step out, to run after Him and to seek my healing once again. The real Healer was here and I could not let Him pass me by. 

So I stumbled out into the crowd, becoming lost in the sea of people who were all pressing forward to get his attention. But I was behind Him and His attention I could not capture. But I was not giving up. And just then, the memory of the men talking on the road came to me and I remembered that this Man healed the Roman servant without having to lay hands on him. I realized I didn’t have to get His attention, I just needed Him. 

But He was getting further and further away and the crowd was beginning to drag me away. So in one final desperate attempt to encounter the real Healer, I lunged out, falling forward and in doing so, grasped the fringe of his robe. 

A jolt went through me that felt like lightening, all the way my core. The power knocked me back and in that moment I knew I had been healed. The Healer had healed me.

I saw the back of Jesus tense up as if He knew what has just transpired. I looked at Him from the ground a few feet back, the image of Him blocked by some members of the crowd. But I most certainly heard Him when He asked “Who touched me?” 

The cloud of shame overcame me once again as I froze in place, certain that I was in trouble, certain that what I did without permission would cause me punishment.

The members of the crowd closest to him all said that they had not touched Him, all feeling fear in that question as well. One of His more burly looking disciples tried reasoning with Him as no one around them had admitted to touching Him.

“There are so many people in this crowd master,” the man said “and they are all pressing on you, certainly it was not one person who touched you.” 

But Jesus responded, “I am certain of it, someone touched me as I know that power has gone out from me.”

It was the same power that I felt go through me, was what Jesus said had left Him. He knew what I had done without permission and there certainly would be consequences, I was sure of it. But there was no more hiding I could do, no more allowing the guilt and shame hold me back. 

So I stepped forward into the gaze of Jesus, still shaking under the power of what happened. Looking into his eyes, I began to sob, falling at His feet once again. 

“I’m sorry, I just didn’t know what to do” I cried to Him. “I had wanted to come to you properly and ask for you to heal me but I became scared and froze. I have been unclean for many years with a disease where I continue to bleed. I have spent all that I have on trying to find the cure, doctors and healers have all said the same thing – I was incurable. But when I heard the stories and heard what you did, and the only chance I had left was to reach out and not let You pass me by, it was all I could do to try. I’m so sorry, I didn’t know what to do.”

As I continued to sobbed, I looked up at His face. “But thank you.” I cried. “Thank you, because as I touched you, I was healed instantly, I’m sure of it. After 12 years, what others told me was impossible, You made possible.” 

Jesus smiled back at me, as if in on a secret no one else but I knew. “Oh my dear daughter,” he said. “Well done, for it was your faith in Me that healed you.”

I smiled back at Him. That was what I felt earlier. Faith. I have had faith in many things over my life. Faith in so many doctors to heal me, faith in my efforts, faith in others. But I had lost faith until that day when I saw the true Healer. 

Jesus kneeled down to my level and gently touched my face. “Go in shalom, my daughter.” I closed my eyes, receiving His Words. Shalom was something I had not felt for a long time. Shalom. 

Trembling I stood up and looked at Jesus again. This time He winked as He turned back to a man who was standing behind Him. 

Another man ran up to both of them, addressing the man dressed as a local synagogue leader. “Sir” the man said “I’m sorry, your daughter is dead, let us let the Rabbi go.”

Jesus looked back at me with the same smile, like we both knew a secret no one else knew. Jesus turned to the religious leader now. “Don’t be afraid Jairus,” He said, “Just have faith, and she will be healed.” 

Jairus looked at me and then back to Jesus. “Okay,” He said. “I believe, this way now” Jairus turned around and continued walking in the direction they were already heading. Jesus touched me one more time and turned to follow Jairus.

In any other moment in my life over the last 12 years, I would have felt hopeless for this Jairus and his daughter, letting that cloud that had lived over my life dictate what to believe. But as I felt strength in my body that I had not felt in a long time course through me, I also believed Jesus’ words over that girl’s situation. That she would be healed, just like me. 

All we needed was to have faith.