Faith

A WOEFUL WOMAN HEALED BY THE MASTER'S HAND

by Christian Belyea
04/28/18
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A Woeful Woman Healed by the Master's Hand

Mark 5:25-34

By

Christian Belyea

     Simple faith…

     Amazing faith…

     It’s what the crowd needed that day, not just another sign Jesus was God in the flesh, that the Savior was sporting skin.  The crowd was thronging Him—so much so he could barely breathe.  Yes, so close Christ couldn’t catch His breath.  Everyone wanted a piece of Him, and there was only so much to go around.  It was a cacophony of requests.  Too many voices to be heard.  Ouch!  Someone elbowed Him in the midst of all that madness.  It was one long swan song of deafening demands that He show them another sign He was divine, and all of it was dulling the Messiah’s muddled mind.

     True, He loved them.  True, He lived for them.  But true, He was so very tired as He trudged His way around Israel that day.

     Then somebody of true faith did touch Him.  To be sure, everyone was trying to touch Him, but this touch had been different.  Someone had simply clutched the hem of His carpenter’s clothing and power had gone out of His Person.

     He didn’t know it, but the one who had touched Him was a woman whose womb had been bleeding for many moons…for twelve long agonizing years, to be exact.  Yes, she had bled so long all her dainties had been drenched and had become unusable; she was constantly discarding them for new ones.  But discarding them secretly to avoid the shame the other woman were sure to shoot at her because, after all, she must be a wicked sinner to have been afflicted so.  Oh, the pain of it!  The gut-wrenching cramps.  The embarrassing stains.  The interrupted conversations because she had to go and change.  She had seen many medicine men, this pitiable person, and had paid a pretty penny for all those prescriptions, but all she had received in return was disappointment, disillusionment, and disheartenment.  Nothing had worked. 

     It was humiliating is what it was.  And who could she talk to about it?  People thought she must be a terrible sinner to be afflicted so.  And at times she wondered if maybe they were right…perhaps she had perpetrated some unpardonable sin God was using this blood flow to punish her with.  She was confused. She was in pain.  She was broken.

     But she did have one thing going for her—Faith.  She believed Christ was the Messiah, that God had formed Himself into flesh, and that maybe…just maybe He would take pity on her person, heal and forgive her.  But what if she miffed Him by mustering up the gall to grab the hem of His garment?  Oh well, it was a risk she was willing to take.  For her broken heart beckoned her with these words: “If only I may touch His clothes, I shall be made well” (Mark 5:28).

     So, she elbowed and clawed her way through that crazy and confused crowd, the sweat of all those people under the scorching Israeli sun slathering her arms as she was jostled by them, making her skin slick with the stench of their body odor.  Finally, she was behind Jesus—the ultimate medicine Man.  She was behind her very own Maker!  Maybe, she thought again…maybe…just maybe…?!

     Then she mustered up the courage to just…reach…out…and…touch…Him…

     And when she did, the most amazing thing happened, and it astounded her.  She could feel her flow was finished.  Dried up.  Gone.  Yes, gone were the crippling cramps.  Gone was the agonizing ache deep down in her bowels.  Gone was the feeling of feeling so unclean.  Just having touched the Christ had made her malady dry up.  Her eyes brightened while they welled over with tears.  And her lips…well, they tightened, grinning from ear to ear.

     “I am finally healed!” She marveled. “Finally healed…”

     But at the moment she touched Him, Jesus immediately knew in Himself that power had gone out of Him.  He faced the crowd and cried, “Who touched my clothes” (Mark 5:30)?

     His disciples were no help.  All they could day is, “Duhhh…You see the multitude thronging You, and You say, ‘Who touched Me’” (Mark 5:31)?

     But no.  Someone special had touched Him, and He wanted to know who.  That someone was a person with real faith, who wasn’t just seeking a sign, who was just seeking saving grace.  Then His eyes lit on her, and He knew…He knew…

     Afraid she would be punished for stealing some healing from her Maker, she fell at Christ’s feet, bawling and begging for mercy.  I can imagine her words went something like this: “It was I, dear LORD!  I know You are God’s Son.  I know You are compassionate.  I know You forgive sins.  Please forgive mine, for I want to spend eternity with You because I love You that much!”

     And then I can picture a tear trailing down God’s cheek, and how He marvelled over a peasant woman’s simple wondrous faith.  “Daughter, your faith has made you well.  Go in peace and be healed of your affliction” (Mark 5:34).

     I believe God felt honored that day through that wild-eyed woman and her unwavering faith.  Simple faith.  Amazing faith.  And as weary as He probably was, her optimism had restored His resolution to keep carrying on to redeem His people.  A poor, pitiable woman had inspired poor, pooped out God that day.  Imagine that…? 

     And the woman…what more could she have wanted?  The Messiah Himself had healed her.  The Messiah Himself had made her feel human again.  The Messiah Himself had cleansed her of her unclean flow.  How could she ever repay Him?  In her humility, she realized she couldn’t.  I can picture her deciding to make “thank you” installments to God each day in her devotions.

     As for Jesus, that’s all He wanted that day--Faith.  Simple faith.  Amazing faith.  And He got it, too.  In fact, God got gobsmacked upside the head with it, and it must have made His head swoon, made Him giddy with goosebumps that someone—finally—had shown some faith. 

     Simple faith. 

     Amazing faith.   

     All Scriptural references taken from the NKJV Bible, 1985