The Edge of His Cloak

Jesus Raises a Dead Girl and Heals a Sick Woman

 ⁴⁰ Now when Jesus returned, a crowd welcomed him, for they were all expecting him. ⁴¹ Then a man named Jairus, a synagogue leader, came and fell at Jesus’ feet, pleading with him to come to his house ⁴² because his only daughter, a girl of about twelve, was dying.
   As Jesus was on his way, the crowds almost crushed him. ⁴³ And a woman was there who had been subject to bleeding for twelve years,^[a] but no one could heal her. ⁴⁴ She came up behind him and touched the edge of his cloak, and immediately her bleeding stopped.
   ⁴⁵ “Who touched me?” Jesus asked.
   When they all denied it, Peter said, “Master, the people are crowding and pressing against you.”
 ⁴⁶ But Jesus said, “Someone touched me; I know that power has gone out from me.”
 ⁴⁷ Then the woman, seeing that she could not go unnoticed, came trembling and fell at his feet. In the presence of all the people, she told why she had touched him and how she had been instantly healed. ⁴⁸ Then he said to her, “Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace.”  Luke 8: 40-48

We studied this passage in Scripture this Sunday at church; it has always been one of my favorites. In my head I see this woman and  cannot describe her without a lump coming to my throat and tears blurring my vision.

She feels bruised and discarded. She walks alone, cast off by a world who cannot fix her, a world who deems her unclean. Rejected. Frightened. Tired. The bleeding her body endures has taken every last bit of energy and strength. Looks of pity, or of disgust, come from those who know her, from a people who does not see her, but instead her ailment. She walks a lonely, hard road; hope has long since fled. She lives a life, daily, of utter hopelessness. Devastating helplessness.
Until one day, she hears about a man, a remarkable man. A man traveling through their region. Curing the sick. Healing the crippled. Fighting hypocrisy and injustice. And a small flame of hope is rekindled in her heart. She holds fast to that hope as she plans to see this man. She plays his name over her lips. Jesus. Could this man help her?

She fights the jostling crowds who have Jesus covered. She can see glimpses of his face through the crowd as she edges closer. She feels panicked, unsure, but knows she must see him. But he is moving with a purpose; she has heard Jairus's request and knows he is on his way to heal another. Yet surely, surely he could heal her too! She desperately, uncharacteristically pushes forward toward the man she knows can help her. No doubt is left in her heart as she nears him. The flame of hope in her heart has fanned into a fire and she reachs out for the tassel on the corner of his garment, knowing that one touch can save her.

Her fingers brush against the fabric and grab hold before she quickly releases his garment and falls back, shock and joy radiant on her face. She feels healing sweep through her body and her bleeding cease. The man named Jesus stops. He searches the crowd, questioning the people, and his gaze falls on her. Love shines from his eyes and he looks at her and hears her story, though he already knows every word. And then he says the one word that heals the wounds that are far deeper than her physical ailment...

"Daughter."

Pure joy rushes through her as he smiles and commends her faith. She is healed. But most of all, she is His.

Friend, whatever situation has you desperate, He knows. No matter how many people tell you that you are beyond hope, He disagrees. He is waiting, beckoning. Asking you to take hold of so much more that the edge of His cloak. To take hold of the life He offers. To be a son or daughter. To be His.