Scripture Reading: Mark 5:25-34
There is a story in the Gospels about a woman who came to Jesus, yet we are never told her name. Her story is recorded in Gospel of Matthew, Gospel of Mark, and Gospel of Luke, but even with that prominence, she remains unnamed.
Over the past few weeks, we have reflected on different women who came to Jesus. One was the woman caught in adultery, brought publicly and humiliated before Him. This woman is different. She did not come publicly. She came quietly, almost secretly, carrying a burden she had lived with for years. She believed that Jesus alone could take care of her problem.
The Bible tells us that she had an issue of blood. This was not a minor condition. It was a serious and exhausting illness that had drained her life for twelve long years. Twelve years of suffering. Twelve years of weakness. Twelve years of waiting for something to change. Beneath all that pain, however, there remained a deep longing within her. She longed for one touch—one moment with someone who could heal her, restore her, and turn her situation around.
There is power in the touch of faith. She reached out and touched the garment of Jesus with faith, believing that even that small act would be enough. A touch of faith can heal what medicine cannot fix. It can restore broken relationships that no human effort can mend. It can reach into the deepest and most hidden parts of our lives, even where we cannot express our pain to anyone else.
This woman did not need much. She did not need recognition, attention, or even a conversation. All she needed was a touch.
There are moments in our own lives when nothing in this world seems enough. Words fail us. People, even those closest to us, come up short. Friends and family may try their best, but there are situations where we feel completely alone. It is possible to stand in the middle of a large crowd and still feel isolated. One can sit in a church filled with hundreds or even thousands of people and yet feel like a stranger, unseen and unrecognized.
This woman lived in that reality. For twelve years, she endured not only physical suffering but also social isolation. According to the customs of her time, anyone with an issue of blood was considered unclean. Even though her condition was not contagious, she would have been treated as if it were. She was excluded, set apart, and forced to live on the margins of society. We have a glimpse of what isolation feels like from the time of COVID, but her experience lasted not days or months, but years.
One can only imagine what that does to a person’s heart. Was she embittered? Perhaps. Long seasons of suffering often lead to bitterness. We too can become weary, frustrated, and discouraged when life does not change for a long time.
Yet even in such seasons, there is hope. God walks with us through our struggles and reminds us, as written in Second Epistle to the Corinthians, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”
When we come to Jesus, even in our weakness, even with a small gesture of faith—a quiet prayer, a sigh from the heart, or a simple reaching out—He responds. For this woman, that small act of touching His garment caused everything to stop. The crowd stopped because Jesus stopped. And He asked a question that seemed strange: “Who touched me?”
In a crowd pressing against Him from every side, that question puzzled everyone. But Jesus knew that this was no ordinary touch. This was a touch of faith.
She had already tried everything. She had spent all she had, gone from one place to another, seeking help. Yet nothing worked. In fact, her condition only grew worse. That is often how life unfolds. People offer suggestions with good intentions. We search for solutions, moving from one place to another. Sometimes things help, and sometimes they do not. Not because anyone is at fault, but because we live in a broken world.
The story of Book of Job reminds us of this reality. Job lost his wealth, his health, and his stability. Even those closest to him misunderstood his suffering. His friends came to comfort him, sitting silently for days. But when they began to speak, their words only added to his pain. They offered explanations, accusations, and advice, suggesting that his suffering must be the result of wrongdoing.
Job called them “miserable comforters.” He even referred to them as “worthless physicians.” Their words could not heal him.
We can be like that too. We try to comfort others, yet sometimes our words fail. True comfort does not come from human wisdom alone. It comes from God.
The world can offer limited help, but God’s resources are limitless. His grace never runs dry. He is ready to respond when we reach out to Him in faith.
Faith often begins quietly. This woman did not seek attention or recognition. She did not ask permission, because she knew that doing so might expose her and lead to rejection. Instead, she acted with courage. She moved through the crowd, step by step, each step an act of faith.
Faith is not passive. It moves. It presses forward. It pushes through obstacles.
The crowd could have stopped her. Fear could have stopped her. Her past could have stopped her. But she refused to stay where she was. She stepped out of her comfort zone and reached toward Jesus.
There is always a risk in faith. She knew that if she were discovered, she might be rejected again. Yet she chose to move forward.
And when she did, everything changed.
The moment she touched the garment of Jesus, she felt it in her body. The bleeding stopped. She knew she was healed. But something even greater happened. Jesus stopped. He turned, not because of the strength of her touch, but because of the faith behind it.
It was not about her power. It was about who she touched.
One touch of faith will always get God’s attention.
Jesus called her out, not to shame her, but to restore her. He wanted her to know—and for everyone else to see—that she was no longer unrecognized. She was seen, known, healed, and restored.
Her body was healed. Her shame was removed. Her identity was restored.
This is what the touch of faith does.
Prayer works the same way. It does not have to be long or perfect. It does not need impressive words or structure. God is not concerned with grammar. He listens to the cry of the heart. Even a small, sincere prayer can move the heart of God.
We are all hurting in one way or another. Often, we hide our pain. We do not want others to see it. But we must never hide it from Jesus. We can bring everything to Him without fear or shame. No matter our past, His grace is sufficient to forgive, heal, and restore.
Oswald Chambers once wrote that a day will come when every sorrow, every confusion, every pain, and every injustice will be completely understood and transformed in the presence of God. That is the hope we hold on to.
So we must not be afraid of what the world thinks. God sees beyond our past. He sees our future. He sees what we can become.
There is a simple story that illustrates this truth. A farmer once had an old well, and a donkey fell into it. The animal cried out as the farmer tried to figure out what to do. Eventually, the farmer decided that neither the well nor the donkey was worth saving, so he began to fill the well with dirt.
As the dirt fell on the donkey, something unexpected happened. Each time a load of dirt landed on its back, the donkey shook it off and stepped up. Again and again, the dirt came down, and each time, the donkey shook it off and rose higher. Eventually, the well was filled, and the donkey simply walked out.
That is what faith looks like.
Life will throw things at us. Circumstances will try to bury us. But instead of being crushed, we can choose to shake it off and step up.
Step up in faith. Step up toward Jesus. Reach out and touch His garment.
Do not be afraid. Do not be ashamed. The same God who healed that unnamed woman is ready to restore, renew, and use each of us. He can make us whole and turn our lives into a blessing for others.
May we experience the power of that touch every day, and may His grace lead us forward into a life of hope and purpose.
Amen.
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