Her chance had come- and it could be her last. The woman had struggled with her illness for 12 years. She bled- every day- and it wouldn’t stop. She had traveled to many doctors hoping someone might be able to help. But no one could. Then she heard about a teacher named Jesus. Everybody in town had been talking about this man who told stories and performed miraculous healings. Maybe, just maybe, He could heal her.  So when Jesus had arrived she hung to the edge of the quick moving crowd. The crowd was filled with excitement. And then she saw Him. Her stomach jumped to her throat. The woman was so excited. But then, a ruler from the synagogue ran up to Jesus and flung himself onto the dirt in front of Him.
“Please, Jesus,” the man, Jairus, cried. “My daughter is sick and on the verge of death. Please, please save her. Don’t let her die.” Jesus lifted Jairus to his feet and the two started down the road. The crowd pressed in to follow, eager to see the little girl be healed. The woman’s heart saddened, hope draining away. She wasn’t the beloved daughter of a religious leader. And Jesus’ time was too valuable to be wasted on the likes of her. Still, she let herself be caught up in the crowd. Then the thought came to her. He must have great power! Maybe…if I could just touch His cloak--- She weaved about the crowd’s jagged edge then ducked into the thick of it to get closer to the Teacher. This way I won’t bother Him. He can go about His day doing important things for important people. She reached out. Closer…closer…then her hand skimmed across the hem of His cloak. Jesus stopped. He turned. The woman froze. “Who touched Me?” He asked.
The people must’ve thought the question was ridiculous. I mean He was in a crowd of people everyone so close together. Lots of people had inadvertently touched him. The woman’s heart raced. Jesus repeated His question again. “Who touched Me? Someone touched Me I know that power has gone out from Me.” The woman bit her lip, her face flushing with heat. He knows. She couldn’t pretend it wasn’t her and slink away. Trembling, she fell down before Him. “I’m sorry, Sir. I so desperately needed to be healed. Although I know I don’t deserve it.” A lump in her throat kept more words from coming. What would He do to her? One didn’t go around touching respected Jewish rabbis--- especially a bleeding woman. “I’m sorry,” she choked.
And then she realized it. The bleeding had stopped. Stopped! She felt whole. Her body felt new. “I’m healed, Jesus,” she whispered, looking up. “I’m healed!”  Jesus smiled. “Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace.”
Warmth and acceptance flooded through her. Daughter. He called me “daughter.”

Daughter. What a powerful word. Not “sinner” or “sneak” or “cowardly cloak-toucher”.

Do you see the picture? Jesus used the endearment of daughter to let the women know how valuable she was to Him. He took the example of Jairus’s deep love for his daughter…a father who cared little about his stature and respectability when it came to his daughter.

Jesus was saying to her, I love you as this father loves his daughter, I sacrifice for you. I plead on your behalf. I do whatever it takes to protect and provide for you. I know what you need. And I will do everything in My power to make you whole.  

--Last edited by carry_the_cross on 2007-06-17 13:02:47 --

Wow. That's a whole new take on that story for me. I love that thought...I am His daughter.

Yeah and you are beautiful in everyway to Him! don't ever forget. just typed it up as a devo and an encouragement...

that. is. so. SWEET!!!!! it's stuff like this that keeps me going.