25 A woman who had had a hemorrhage for twelve years, 26 and had endured much at the hands of many physicians, and had spent all that she had and was not helped at all, but rather had grown worse— 27 after hearing about Jesus, she came up in the crowd behind Him and touched His cloak. 28 For she thought, “If I just touch His garments, I will get well.” 29 Immediately the flow of her blood was dried up; and she felt in her body that she was healed of her affliction. 30 Immediately Jesus, perceiving in Himself that the power proceeding from Him had gone forth, turned around in the crowd and said, “Who touched My garments?” 31 And His disciples said to Him, “You see the crowd pressing in on You, and You say, ‘Who touched Me?’” 32 And He looked around to see the woman who had done this.33 But the woman fearing and trembling, aware of what had happened to her, came and fell down before Him and told Him the whole truth. 34 And He said to her, “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace and be healed of your affliction.”
We have been studying Mark in church the past few weeks. And in small group this last week we were talking about this passage among others. A young lady in our group posed the question “Would I have enough faith to touch His garment?” And her question has been on my mind all week.
Would I have enough faith to believe that if I could just touch Him I would be made well. Jesus had been healing people all week. He had thousands of people following Him, people pressing in on Him so hard that He had to retreat to a boat to teach. No doubt people touching Him all the time, surrounding Him, wanting to see a miracle. Yet the woman in the story had enough faith to believe that if she just touched Him, the hem of His garment she would be healed. I wonder how long she pushed through the crowds to get close enough, how many times she was shoved out of the way and yet she persisted. And she finally got there…she just reached out and touched Him.
And she was healed. IMMEDIATELY she was healed. And Jesus tells her “Woman, your faith has made you well.”
And then the question came…”Would I have enough faith to reach out and touch His garment?”
I think we’d all like to think that “Of course I would…Of course if I lived when Jesus lived I would believe and I would have enough faith” But I too, wonder…would I…really?
Faith is sometimes so hard. It means that we trust in Him and what He has in store for us even when we don’t see a purpose or reason for the trial we are wading through. It means that we willingly obey without hesitation when what He is asking us to do doesn’t make a bit of sense. Sometimes it means that we are hurt again or that we find indescribable joy on the other side of the valley. And having faith enough to reach out and touch Him means we are willing to lay down our lives, our desires and our mess to follow Him.
It’s so easy to trust, follow and reach out to Him when things make sense, when they’re going our way and when we’re sure of the path. Not so much when we can’t see around the bend ahead of us or when we’re wallowing in hurt, self doubt and fear.
I remember this struggle when Knox and Lily died. Especially after Knox. I remember the daily struggle to trust God with what lay ahead. I would pray one day “Lord, if you are going to call me to lose another baby…please don’t ever let me get pregnant again.” And the next I would pray “Lord, please bless my womb and I will surrender to what You call me to walk through.” When we got pregnant with Lily, and found out she had Turner syndrome and her 1% chance of survival, I fully expected, believed and felt deep down that she would survive. Kerry and I both did. We both totally expected that this past November we would welcome a baby girl to our family. And then she died too. Strangely enough though, it was much easier to surrender to what God was asking us to walk through emotionally. Not easy to do, but we had faith He would walk with us, He was in control and that He would heal us.
Yet there are days when I fall prey to worry for this new baby. When I wonder if He calls me to again, mourn the loss of a child, if I could do it…if I could survive. I am not in control, no matter how much I like to think I am.
In doing HIS will, I surrender mine. I reach out and touch His garment and cling to Him because HE will rescue me. I know He will, because He is a God who loves me. I know that even when it doesn’t make sense, when it hurts so much I think I’ll break into pieces that He knows, He heals and He loves. The woman sought Jesus, she pursued Him and she fought the throngs of people to just get close enough. If I just reach for Him, seek Him, He will answer me. But I also know, that the healing I seek and envision, isn’t always what He has planned for me. It doesn’t look like I want it to and sometimes it hurts more than I think it should.
I have come to realize, it’s not so much about how much faith I have. It’s about whether am I willing to recognize Jesus for who He is. The woman in the story touched Him like so many others, but is it possible that she is the only one of all of them who recognized Jesus as someone more than just healer…that she recognized Him to be the Son of God? That He was the only one who could save her?