She must have felt hopeless, depressed, and maybe even like her life was meaningless.
She had tried so many remedies. -spent all of her money on doctors and therapies that didn't work.
Yet, as Mark says everything she tried made the problem worse. Broken promise after broken promise. Friends and family getting her hopes up that this new doctor will help, or this new treatment will work. Only to dash her hopes. Only for her pain to be worse, her fainting spells more frequent, her bleeding heavier.
And then they left. I mean, I presume they did. Gradually it was easier just not to be around her. Not to hear her, or see her. It was too painful to watch. And, besides, they had to be careful so they wouldn't catch whatever it was she had. They needed to be safe and clean. She understood. In a way, it was a relief. She was tired of hearing their suggestions. Had she heard about the new doctor or the newly discovered medicine? Or, the treatment facility? All the voices still rang in her head. She was tired of listening. Tired of trying. Tired, dare I say, of living?
For 12 years she, no doubt, slept in a separate bed from her husband. Isolated in her own home. Not allowed to be in crowds. 12 years that she was alive, yet not living. She had missed weddings and funerals. She had eaten Passover alone and watched children building the sukkah from a distance.
But, one day, she quit listening to all those voices around her and inside of her. She broke the rules. She left her house. She walked right into the crowd.
"The Master is busy!" people said.
"It is an emergency! A little girl is dying!"
But, she didn't hear. It isn't that she didn't care, but, she thought that maybe she could reach out and touch the hem of his garment. The tzitzit hanging from the edge of His tallit. Each one representing a law. The laws she loved and followed. The laws that promised good things to those who obeyed.
"If I touch His clothes I will be well!" she told herself. And, she was!
She got up. Walked right through that crowd. Touched the hem of his garment and felt something. She knew she had been healed.
Jesus knew it too.
And he stopped.
He asked his disciples who had touched Him, but they didn't know. They were busy trying to keep Jesus from getting trampled. They were trying to keep everything on schedule. They were trying to help Jesus get to a sick little girl who was the daughter of someone important. They hadn't noticed the woman, they just saw a mob, a throng.
They hadn't seen her.
But, Jesus saw her. He looked right at her.
"Daughter, your faith has made you whole; go in peace and be whole of your plague," Jesus said.
Her faith! Her faith in Jesus! Her faith that He could and would heal her.
And then, Matthew, Mark, and Luke go back to talking about Jarius' daughter. The crowd moves on. But, the woman is free! From that very hour, she never had an 'issue' with her 'plague' anymore! She went home in peace! Shalom!
And, her family and friends rejoiced with her! She forgave them because she knew they were only trying to help. How do I know? Because forgiveness and healing go hand-in-hand.
When she got off the couch and left her house and reached out for Jesus, He heard, he saw, he healed!
How often do we blame our friends and family who are advising us, or our doctors or counselors or pastors? How often do we spend our hard-earned money on all kinds of things that are supposed to "help"? And all the while Jesus is right outside our door. All we have to do is reach out and touch the Living Word of God.
Lord, Help me to have Faith and Hope like this woman had. But, even more, help me to have Love. For Love conquers all!
PS- I know it doesn't say her friends and family treated her that way, but it does seem to be a reoccurring pattern in stories of others in the human family, so I presume her experience was similar. Besides, it appears she was by herself in the crowd.
