Thursday, 31 January 2013

The Healer

Matthew 9:18-22 and Luke 8:40-48
"...a ruler came and knelt before him (Jesus) and said, 'My daughter has just died. But come and put your hand on her, and she will live.' Jesus got up and went with him, and so did his disciples.
Just then, a woman who had been subject to bleeding for twelve years came up behind him and touched the edge of his cloak."

That was me. Oh, that day. I think my life began that day. 

That was the day that Jesus raised that man's little girl from the dead - it was a day that everyone in our town talked about for months. She was dead! She had been ill for a while and she got worse and worse and then she passed away. I didn't know them well but word spreads quickly and that morning as I lurked by the roadside waiting for him to pass by I heard that she had finally died. Nobody told me, but I overheard. Of course, nobody would come and talk to me. Not for a long time. Far too much hassle to talk with or touch someone like me. Unclean and had been for ages. If you spent time with me you had to go and be purified afterwards. 

I think they thought that I deserved it, though nobody came out and said that. At first people had been sympathetic but then it just went on and on and nothing changed and here was I, the woman who couldn't be purified. Surely I'd done something to deserve this outcast label. It was my comeuppance for some crime. Some act, some words that condemned me to constant, draining illness. That's what they thought, I'm sure. And if they associated with me too much, it might be catching.

I thought it would kill me, to be honest. You can't bleed incessantly for so long, can you, and still live? I felt so ill. Always weak, no energy. Even fetching water was a struggle and there were days when I could barely function, but I had to keep going. It was a half-life, physically and emotionally. I longed for company and acceptance and affection just as much as I longed for health.

Maybe I had done something wrong. I'd tried everything but nothing helped. Night after night I went to bed hoping that maybe the morning would not come for me, but it did. 

And then I heard rumours of this man, who was doing amazing things. Things that made people marvel and wonder. The stories arrived in our village way before he did and that's why the road was busy that morning. Everyone wanted to see him, this miracle worker. 

The women were talking about the little girl who had died. Far away in the crowd someone was wailing and the word was that the girl's father was too late; the healer was busy with the living. I saw his face, this grieving daddy, and it was set with determination. He had pain in his eyes but not despair. He believed in this man, Jesus. He thought that it wasn't too late at all.

I was amazed. I couldn't take my eyes from him. He followed the slow progress of Jesus through the throng. Jesus wasn't coming quickly enough, and the man pushed through. A few people knew who he was and stood back to let him past, while a few others pulled at him and told him not to be so stupid - it was too late for his daughter; he teacher had better things to do; but he was not having it. 

He fell in front of Jesus and opened his arms wide. Looking up at him, the father laid it out. 

'My daughter is dead, but I know that you can still help. Touch her, and bring her back to life?'

A hush fell as the crowd waited to see what the healer would say. He looked into the man's eyes for a moment and smiled. He turned to go with the man, who rose to his feet. 

In that moment I knew. I knew that the little girl would be fine, I knew that her daddy would be celebrating this afternoon. I knew that the stories were true. I knew that I needed Jesus to help me too. 

I don't think I really had any idea what I was going to do, at that pivotal moment in my life. I just lurched into the crowd towards the healer. Me, the one who is unclean, supposed to keep my distance for everyone's protection - I pushed my way through the throng. I used my elbows and my shoulders and with my head down, I weaved my way towards Jesus before he disappeared. 

There he was. He was saying something to the man whose little girl lay dead. It's a good job the crowd was so thick that they made slow progress, for I was so weak that I could not have kept up my pursuit for long. I reached out. I reached for him, and my fingers closed around a corner of his cloak as it fell in folds over his shoulder. I didn't mean to pull at him, I wouldn't have dared. I just needed to touch him. I just needed to be near. If he could raise a child from the dead then he could give my life back to me too.

The moment I grasped the rough fabric, he stopped. I let go immediately and shrank back. It wasn't difficult to disappear as the crowd was a living thing that swelled around the healer and straight away I was consumed. He turned.

Jesus turned and looked around him. His friends were close by and he asked them, 'Who touched me?
The big guy with the beard laughed. He gestured to the crowd.
'You've got to be kidding. They all touched you!' 

But Jesus knew something. I don't know if he felt something, or sensed something, or he just felt the little brush of my fingers against his clothes. I stood, frozen. 

'I know someone touched me. Who touched me?' 

The crowd slowed and quieted. The teacher was doing something else. People shook their heads and looked around. Nobody deliberately touched him. What did he mean? 

Oh no. Oh no. It was me. What on earth should I do? At that moment my head was full of noise. What would this man think when he found out who had touched him? I shouldn't even have been there, let alone in the middle of a crowd. Let alone brazen enough to touch this man that they were calling holy. 

Not me, approach the holy one?

My knees gave way and I fell down. The couple in front of me stepped aside and there he was, standing by me. The tears came, then. They started to fall and I couldn't stop them. I covered my face with my hands in shame and humiliation and I sobbed. There was nothing else I could do.

I told him who I was and what was happening to me. Ill for so many years, ostracised and shunned by family and friends and people at the synagogue. Pushed away, weak and lonely and unwanted. I told him that I'd seen him and known that he was my only hope. I confessed that I'd pushed my way through the crowd because I selfishly wanted to touch him. I told him that I was sorry, that I was undeserving. It all came out; the hopelessness, the shame. My nose was running and I could barely speak for sobs. I was aware of the gaze of the people around me. A few recognised me and I saw disapproval in their eyes.

I finally raised my anguished face to the healer.  He was gentleness. He looked intensely into my eyes, and I knew at that moment, I knew. I'm not sure what I knew, but it all seemed to come together; it was alright. Time stopped. I held my breath. For a second it was as if he and I were the only people in the world. I saw honesty and compassion and pain in his eyes. There was recognition - he knew me; he saw me. He knew what I'd been through and he felt for me. He understood me, he forgave me, he loved me... 

He had healed me. 

I felt something, or the lack of something. My hand flew to my stomach and my eyes widened as I stared at the One who had made me whole again. Suddenly there was no ache, no dragging, no burning - no pain. I felt a surge of strength and hope. I knew that it was over, after all this time; that life could perhaps be worth living after all. 

'Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace.'

I will remember those words all my life. I treasure them. I will never forget his low, clear voice. The intimacy of that moment. I can remember the kindness of his eyes as they crinkled at the corners with his smile. He gave hope to a hopeless woman. 

You know that peace? The peace in his blessing? It never went away. I have it still. 

I looked into his face and I knew who he was. I will tell my story to anyone who will listen. I will never stop praising the One who healed me.

That day he healed me; he saved me. 

Jesus. My Saviour. 

'Heal me and I will be healed. Save me and I will be saved, for you are the One I praise.'
Jeremiah 17:14

Image DEC_10_2005_196.jpg from
by mercucio2
Used with permission.


  1. This is one of the best posts I have ever read on any blog. This one blows me away. You are amazing! I am not kidding. You have crafted a story of Jesus' healing power by giving life and a voice to one of Jesus' miracle healings. You told one of his stories from the perspective of one of the people in the crowds. One of us.You put yourself in that girl. You gave life to words on a page. You put me and your readers in the crowd. We watched YOU encounter Jesus. We heard your heart, we felt your pain and your discouragement, we marveled at your courage in spite of the public ridicule you risked to find this man you never met before that day. You gave life and breath to the story. We heard your hope. We watched this story happen. You captured all five senses and conveyed them with your words. You have accomplished something I have been wanting to do for years--bring Bible stories like this to life. This story will bring great glory to God, Helen. Your account will sear the images and sounds and emotions of this story into the hearts and minds of everyone who reads it, whether they see that or admit it. You have shown us a rare gift God has given you--to capture the emotions and feelings of the people Jesus touched with His ministry. I want to share this with my readers. I will publish this next Tuesday, usually my heaviest visitor day for my blog. I want as many people as possible to read this. I am simply awed. Thank you so much for your writing gift and your desire to share it with me and with others.

    1. Steven, I don't know what to say. Thank you for your comments which have brought tears to my eyes. You've really lifted me today with your extravagant encouragement and it's made a huge difference to me. Really.
      Feel free to share it whenever you like. It's for Him.
      Thank you again.

  2. This is awesome work, Helen. In its beautiful simplicity we observe Lectio Divina at its most sublime. This brilliant engagement with the text gives flesh and bones to the biblical narrative that makes us feel we are there too and free to inhabit the world laid bare before us.
    I can only stand back in amazement and agreement with the words of Steven above. We are on holy ground here. This is too good not to share. May I join the queue in asking to share it too? Praise God for His great gifting to you that we are privileged to enjoy. Blessings :)xx

  3. Thank you Joy. Of course, of course you can do with it whatever you want!
    I was feeling low this morning and I asked Him for words and this idea came to mind - it's not mine.
    I heard (a little late, as ever!) about the book 'My One Word' and read a few weeks ago. Eventually I realised that for many, many reasons, my word for 2013 is 'Heal'. It's on my mind a lot.
    Thank you so much for your kindness.

  4. Helen, did you get my comment? I always have trouble posting here for some reason..

    1. Hi Dixie, I got this one, but suspect it's not the comment you mean. Thanks anyway for reading and taking the trouble.

  5. I have to echo Steven's words. This is so authentic and tangible. It took my breath away. I blog about the words and life of Jesus. Do you mind if I reblog this on my sight? I have a handful of readers who would really be blessed by this, and would love to get to know you.

    I was completely drawn into the story by seeing Jesus from the woman's perspective.

    Thank you!

    oh - my blog is Another Red Letter Day -


  6. Ben, thank you. Please feel free to use the post as you wish. I'd be honoured.
    Thanks for coming. I'll check out your site first chance I get.

  7. Chills...are you a published writer? You should be! I agree with the other comments that you have a gift here. A calling of helping the bible stories be fresh, breathtaking and impactful for readers...bringing God's word to life in a different, important way. You bless me Helen. You encourage me so much! You have no idea the blessing your comments are to me on my blog dear friend! We may be an ocean away, but I feel like I have a friend so close by. Wishing you warmer weather too and maybe one day I can visit you and we can chat over a warm drink!

    1. Thank you! Thank you. I'm not sure that I had much to do with this post really. It just sort of came.
      I know what you mean about feeling closer. I guess that's what Family is about, hey?
      Thanks again for your encouragement. Means a lot.

      Oh - definitely on for coffee (and cake) when that day comes!

  8. Absolutely beautiful and brilliant! I echo Steven's response, as you have been given a gift! Blessings as you continue to share it. :)

    1. Thank you for your generosity in coming to read and comment. Thank you.

  9. Beautiful and genuine! You took God's Word and ran with it. I found it through Ben Nelson's blog post today.
    Bless you!

    1. Thank you Maria! I think God ran with it, really. May He do that more and more!
      Thanks for finding me. I was honoured that Ben linked us up.

  10. I was warned by Ben to bring tissues. He was right.
    Thank you for this. Most beautiful. I find telling their story like this helps bring the people of the Bible to life for us. We become almost immune to the power of their message because we have heard it so often. You have helped us stop and listen afresh and discover the Saviour anew in this woman's story.
    I called her Hannah in my version, and linked her with the prostitute, if you care to visit:
    I love your blog title and tagline.

  11. Thank you for your generous comments; especially as you've thought deeply about this lady too. I love your version. It really helps me to grasp these stories in the Bible if I imagine myself there. There's always something new.
    Thank you for visiting. Come again!

  12. Hi Helen: I love the title The Healer. Jesus truly touches lives daily TODAY. I love the way you described the woman that many of us have read about so many times. You truly brought her to us today. Jesus always gives MORE than we can imagine or even ask for. If only we were as in awe daily as she was when Jesus looked at her. Jesus is looking at us daily with such love and compassion and wants us to come and let him heal, come let him save us. Thanks Helen.

  13. Thanks for reading and taking the trouble to post such an encouraging comment. Thank you Eva.

  14. Helen, this is awesome! You capture the woman's feelings, and brought me into the scene.

    How awesome to be able to touch Jesus, and to receive healing! The woman was desperate, but not too desperate or hopeless for God to heal her. This is an awesome sermon!


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