Touch


 
Jesus said, “Who touched me?” When all denied it Peter and those with him said, “Master, the multitudes throng and press you, and You say, ‘Who touched Me?’” Luke 8:45

 I love this story and the accounts in Matthew and Mark. They all read pretty close to the same when it comes to the bleeding woman. She’s been ill for twelve years and seen every doctor around. Finally she gets her chance to see Jesus and out of total desperation she touches Him, not Him exactly but his clothing, the very edge of His clothing. The whole thing is amazing.

          First it’s sad. This poor woman! She’s ill enough to risk touching a man, a strange man at that, which was unheard of in that day. Plus she’s somehow dragged her weak body into the streets and hustled her way close enough to touch, if not Him, at least His cloak. Your heart has to break for her. For years I got migraine headaches. Due to the type of migraine they came in a very cyclic pattern.  At the worst I was miserable for four straight days, unable to sleep or eat and every movement caused excruciating pain. It was awful but I knew it would end, at least for a few weeks I would have a break before the onslaught of more pain. From what we know, this woman didn’t get any breaks. She was sick for twelve long years. Sad.

          Then there’s Jesus and this is the part I love. It amazes and inspires me. In the same moment it bolsters my faith, it also makes me question it. This woman had such great faith. She didn’t need to be acknowledged by Jesus. She didn’t need or expect Him to stop and have a long conversation with her to see if she deserved healing. She saw Him as healing. If she could get close, she could get well. And she did! That’s not all of it. Jesus stops, turns to His guys and asks who touched Him. Seriously? They’re looking at the crowd, the multitude (love that word) and thinking, “Yeah right, like we’re going to find that one person who touched you.” Everybody was touching Him, grabbing at Him, wanting something from Him but Jesus does find her, not that it matters. It wasn’t the woman herself or her suffering that called to the heart of the Healer. It wasn’t an earnest and well-spoken plea that compelled Him to grant her request. It was her faith! There was no question in her mind that close proximity to Jesus meant restored health. Wow!

          That is where I question my own faith. Why do I feel the need to plead my case, explaining the myriad reasons why I need healing or help? Why don’t I just know that Jesus has my best interest at heart? It’s a simple answer. It is because God’s ways and mine are different. What God sees as best for me often isn’t what I want. Beyond that I rarely understand why I get an answer that is or looks like a no. Oddly, that is where my faith is bolstered. I may not get what I want or think I need but somehow in the process of seeking His face for an answer I draw closer to Him. My faith is not where the bleeding woman’s faith was but it’s stronger than it was a month ago.

          If times are hard for you right now read this story, the whole story, in all three Gospels. I’ve barely scratched the surface here of the miraculous nature of all that is going on. Then reach out and touch Jesus. Something miraculous will happen, He promised.

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