Weak.
Tired.
And she knew her time left on earth was short.
She couldn’t continue this relentless struggle with her issue of blood.
Her money was gone.
She had been everywhere, talking to anyone who would listen, seeking a cure or even a treatment so that she could live.
She tried anything and everything to no avail.
She was considered unclean because of the blood, she wasn’t welcome anywhere.
She was so discouraged and broken.
She wanted to live, yet at the same time, wanted this to end and death appeared to be her only cure.
Until one day, it came to pass, that it was noised that Jesus was in town. She had heard stories, but she had heard plenty of stories from other healers who had taken her money and left her the same way they found her.
She was too weak to press through the crowd that would surely be around him. People always thronged him, wanting to touch him. Wanting him to heal them, or feed them, or give them some kind of hope.
His healings couldn’t be real though.
No one but God himself had that kind of power.
No doubt, she wrestled within herself, wondering if it was worth trying to get her weak and frail body to this Jesus.
Finally, she decided that she had nothing to lose. What if this was real?
She made her way towards the noise of the crowd. She fell a few times, she was just too weak to stay upright for long.
She finally made it to the crowd, she could just barely see the one they called Jesus, through the throng. She asked a few people nearby if they would help her reach him, only to be ignored, or pushed back, away from the one she came to see.
With what little strength she still had, she pushed through, until she couldn’t anymore, she fell to the ground. No one heeded her cries for help to reach her feet again.
If she was going to reach him, she had to do it.
She couldn’t depend on anyone to get her there.
She was going to have to dig deep, and push forward til she reached him.
She tried to crawl, but she kept being pushed to the ground. She couldn’t hardly see for the dust.
She finally grabbed the ground and pulled herself forward, bit by bit.
Dust under her fingernails, in her mouth, eyes, and nose…from dragging herself forward.
People stepped on her arms and legs, but still she pressed on, through the dust.
Until finally, she saw the hem of his garment.
She lifted a dusty hand up, and touched his hem. She didn’t touch him, but she knew in her heart, that he could heal her with just this one touch. She knew that this was real.
Immediately, she felt within herself that the bleeding had ceased. She raised herself from the dust and wept in shock. All it took was raising her hand to his hem, just one little touch, to heal her.
She heard the voice of Jesus say, “who touched me?” She was silent a moment, in fear that he would be angry with her.
Finally, she spoke up, “it was me. But I just touched the hem! I didn’t defile you. But just that one touch, healed me immediately.”
She bowed her head to ground, in worship and awe. Only for Jesus to raise her eyes to meet his, and spoke kindly to her, “daughter, be of good comfort, thy faith hath made thee whole.”
She had never been met with such compassion.
She had never heard a voice so tender and loving.
She rose to her feet, and walked home, whole.
All because she was willing to crawl through the dust to get to Jesus. She didn’t wait for someone to help her, or bring Jesus to her, she made her way to him.
There is healing and hope, if you’ll just get to Jesus. Be willing to crawl, even if you’re pressed to the dust. Just get to Jesus, he has lost no power.
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