The Woman Who Touched His Cloak
Can you imagine for just one moment what it is like to be classed as unclean, as an untouchable, a person to be avoided? Then let me tell you just exactly what it is like. It is in no way something that could ever be called fun. To watch people who once spoke to you cross the street to avoid you. To be aware that the market traders will not look you in the eye or touch you when you reach out to take your purchases. They make very sure there will be no physical contact between you and them.
I can tell you how terrible it is when your family keep themselves well out of contact with you, it hurts deep in the heart. How I longed for the touch of a human hand, to be held by my husband to touch my children's cheeks. it is like living each day in your own little hell.
There was just no solution anywhere. It is not possible to pack up and go anywhere else because it would be just the same there. Then of course. I was bound to the family, bound to my religion. To move to another town would only impound my problems, then I would be totally isolated and there would be not one person who even cared.
So I am sure you can imagine how I felt that day when I heard that the man Jesus was not far from town and was heading our way. I had heard so much about him, the things he was saying and the things that happened in his presence. I wondered that day if there could be a help for me if I could just get close enough to him. I was sure that if I could just speak to him that his words would be a great help and comfort to me. I had heard all kinds of reports; people who had been helped to walk. those helped to see, the tales went on.
I just had this feeling that although I had suffered all those twelve years he would be able to lift this heartache from me. There were others who had been lying on their beds for longer than me who had found help.
That night I could not sleep at all. I tossed and turned all night long as I thought of the next day and the possibilities it might hold for me. The next day came and I arose full of excitement I had never felt before. I wanted to be out there awaiting his arrival. Each hour seemed like a day and each minute like an hour as I waited. I could think of nothing else.
Then there was a crowd of people and the word was moving around them that he was on his way. I looked and there in the distance, I could see him surrounded by people. How was I ever going to get anywhere near him, so many people? My heart began to sink my hopes began to dissipate.
I knew that I must not come into contact with him, I was unclean. Somehow though I had to be able to speak with him, he was my last and only hope.
Just as he drew near, I saw a gap appear a way open up before me. I was going to get my opportunity to just speak with him. Just at the very moment, I moved forward a well-dressed person of high rank stepped in front of me. He was one of the ruling class, I was a mere untouchable.
He spoke to Jesus. I saw the pain in his eyes as he did so. He was telling Jesus of his daughter who had been so ill he was sure she was on her death bed. He was asking Jesus to go and lay his hands on her that she might have a life again.
His need was far greater than mine, of this I was certain. More importantly, there was a child who had a life before her. Her life was like a candle that was being snuffed out and her only a child. True, my life was not all that I had hoped for but at least I still had a life. This small child it seemed was losing even that. As I watched and listened I could see and feel the pain of this family. How could I possibly detract Jesus from this man and his needs? They were greater than mine ever would be.
I stepped aside and watched as he walked past me with the grieving ruler. My heart went out to him and I prayed the Jesus would indeed be able to help him.
Then, like a bolt from out the of blue, it came to me, like a blinding light. I do not need to speak to him, I do not need to detract him from what is much more important. The task at hand for him and the ruler is much more important than mine.
If I can just lay one finger on his cloak, even just the hem of his cloak would be enough. I was convinced this was all it would take. One touch, one small touch on the hem of his cloak, this was all I needed. Never before in life had I felt anything as certainly as this.
I moved forward; I reached out; only one or two centimetres was all it would take. I hesitated, was I about to break all the rules? Was I about to call live coals onto my head? NO, I felt sure it would be fine. I reached out once more and this time I felt my fingers just brush off the hem of his robe.
It was an amazing feeling. I felt life flow through me touching every single part of me, every fibre of my being. I felt well like I had not felt for years. I could reach out and touch others because of this fleeting touch of the cloak of this man, this Jesus.
I had thought it was time to just slip into the background. To return and show myself to the chief priest and return to my family. How I longed to see them, to touch them, to hold them.
It was not to be so simple. Jesus turned and I saw those penetrating eyes looking at me and through me. I felt a moment of panic, but his eyes were full of encouragement. "Take heart, my daughter," he said. "Your faith has this day made you clean." So calmly he accepted what had happened, what he had done for me. So lovingly he sent me on my way.
What about the little girl? She was restored to full life. Sounds all so very simple, and so it was. Two families rejoiced that day. Two families had experienced a resurrection.
The briefest touch of another can often change the lives of those who seek and are in need. To be touched at the very core of your being can change and restore us. So reach out your hand, stretch forth your heart that they may be touched like touching the hem of His cloak. For life can be changed in a fleeting moment if the mind is open and ready to receive.
I can tell you how terrible it is when your family keep themselves well out of contact with you, it hurts deep in the heart. How I longed for the touch of a human hand, to be held by my husband to touch my children's cheeks. it is like living each day in your own little hell.
There was just no solution anywhere. It is not possible to pack up and go anywhere else because it would be just the same there. Then of course. I was bound to the family, bound to my religion. To move to another town would only impound my problems, then I would be totally isolated and there would be not one person who even cared.
So I am sure you can imagine how I felt that day when I heard that the man Jesus was not far from town and was heading our way. I had heard so much about him, the things he was saying and the things that happened in his presence. I wondered that day if there could be a help for me if I could just get close enough to him. I was sure that if I could just speak to him that his words would be a great help and comfort to me. I had heard all kinds of reports; people who had been helped to walk. those helped to see, the tales went on.
I just had this feeling that although I had suffered all those twelve years he would be able to lift this heartache from me. There were others who had been lying on their beds for longer than me who had found help.
That night I could not sleep at all. I tossed and turned all night long as I thought of the next day and the possibilities it might hold for me. The next day came and I arose full of excitement I had never felt before. I wanted to be out there awaiting his arrival. Each hour seemed like a day and each minute like an hour as I waited. I could think of nothing else.
Then there was a crowd of people and the word was moving around them that he was on his way. I looked and there in the distance, I could see him surrounded by people. How was I ever going to get anywhere near him, so many people? My heart began to sink my hopes began to dissipate.
I knew that I must not come into contact with him, I was unclean. Somehow though I had to be able to speak with him, he was my last and only hope.
Just as he drew near, I saw a gap appear a way open up before me. I was going to get my opportunity to just speak with him. Just at the very moment, I moved forward a well-dressed person of high rank stepped in front of me. He was one of the ruling class, I was a mere untouchable.
He spoke to Jesus. I saw the pain in his eyes as he did so. He was telling Jesus of his daughter who had been so ill he was sure she was on her death bed. He was asking Jesus to go and lay his hands on her that she might have a life again.
His need was far greater than mine, of this I was certain. More importantly, there was a child who had a life before her. Her life was like a candle that was being snuffed out and her only a child. True, my life was not all that I had hoped for but at least I still had a life. This small child it seemed was losing even that. As I watched and listened I could see and feel the pain of this family. How could I possibly detract Jesus from this man and his needs? They were greater than mine ever would be.
I stepped aside and watched as he walked past me with the grieving ruler. My heart went out to him and I prayed the Jesus would indeed be able to help him.
Then, like a bolt from out the of blue, it came to me, like a blinding light. I do not need to speak to him, I do not need to detract him from what is much more important. The task at hand for him and the ruler is much more important than mine.
If I can just lay one finger on his cloak, even just the hem of his cloak would be enough. I was convinced this was all it would take. One touch, one small touch on the hem of his cloak, this was all I needed. Never before in life had I felt anything as certainly as this.
I moved forward; I reached out; only one or two centimetres was all it would take. I hesitated, was I about to break all the rules? Was I about to call live coals onto my head? NO, I felt sure it would be fine. I reached out once more and this time I felt my fingers just brush off the hem of his robe.
It was an amazing feeling. I felt life flow through me touching every single part of me, every fibre of my being. I felt well like I had not felt for years. I could reach out and touch others because of this fleeting touch of the cloak of this man, this Jesus.
I had thought it was time to just slip into the background. To return and show myself to the chief priest and return to my family. How I longed to see them, to touch them, to hold them.
It was not to be so simple. Jesus turned and I saw those penetrating eyes looking at me and through me. I felt a moment of panic, but his eyes were full of encouragement. "Take heart, my daughter," he said. "Your faith has this day made you clean." So calmly he accepted what had happened, what he had done for me. So lovingly he sent me on my way.
What about the little girl? She was restored to full life. Sounds all so very simple, and so it was. Two families rejoiced that day. Two families had experienced a resurrection.
The briefest touch of another can often change the lives of those who seek and are in need. To be touched at the very core of your being can change and restore us. So reach out your hand, stretch forth your heart that they may be touched like touching the hem of His cloak. For life can be changed in a fleeting moment if the mind is open and ready to receive.
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