Friday, August 29, 2008
So, this week I have repeatedly been smacked upside the head with the story of the woman who bled for 12 years. The woman who's faith was so great that in the act of simply clutching at her Savior's robe she was healed.
What an amazing thing. I didn't pay attention to the story the first few times, I'd skim through, note the reference, and move on with my day. Then tonight, I'm sitting here nursing Marie to sleep (she's up late, still trying to cut that tooth) and I glanced at my "verse of the day".
Just then a woman who had been subject to bleeding for twelve years came up behind him and touched the edge of his cloak. She said to herself, "If I only touch his cloak, I will be healed." Jesus turned and saw her. "Take heart, daughter," he said, "your faith has healed you." And the woman was healed from that moment. - Matthew 9:20-22 NIV
Praise God. I'm listening. I read the story. This woman, her faith is enviable. She bled for 12 years, she was penniless having spent all her money in search of a cure, she was shunned by everyone who knew her. Alone, lost, poor, and still, STILL she didn't loose her faith. She BELIEVED, she loved her Lord and her Savior so that all she had to do was brush her fingers against His robe and her faith healed her.
I'll be honest. I am a little jealous of that woman. I want a faith like that, I want to believe so fiercely that there is no room for doubt, that all my suffering, all the worry can just be lifted. Sometimes, I'm sort of jealous of all those people in the New Testament. I would have so loved to be alive when Jesus was. Can you imagine, just to hear Him speak. Just to be near Him, to see Him. I don't believe He looked anything like the pictures, I cannot wait to see His face...
Back to the woman, she went through all of this trial and tribulation, for 12 years! She must have hurt so badly, I'm sure she felt like she had been abandoned. And still, she believed, and her faith healed her. I wish that I could reach out and I could somehow rub Jesus' robe across Marie's face. I've no doubt that my sweet baby girl has that kind of faith, the faith I envy and ache for. I know, I know that He can heal her. I've been asked before if we pray for miracles. We do, but yet, the hope for a miracle is sometimes too much to bear.
So, Lord I've listened. I read the story. I feel for that woman, how elated she must have been. The peace that washed over her in the moment that Jesus said, "Daughter, you faith has made you well. Go in peace. Your suffering is over." Mark 5:34. It must have been a rush of calm, it must have felt so good. The way that you feel when you sink into bed after a long day, the way it feels when someone you love hugs you, can you imagine?
I want that. I want that so badly. Not for me, but for Marie. I know it will happen someday, just not in the way that I would like. Still, this story was what I needed. This week, I've been feeling adrift. I know that God is near, but I have not actually felt Him. Then tonight, when I'm grumping it up, tired and nursing, cranky about this and that, feeling sorry for myself and all of it petty, there He is. I love it when He lines things up like this, when I cannot ignore any longer that He is here. The story of the woman lets me know that I'm not alone, He is here, my Savior lives, my God is everything, and He loves us all more than I can even understand.
Finally my baby is sleeping, I'm off to bed with her. **I read through this again this morning, and it makes it sound like I have it far more together than I actually do (that is not an accurate representation of me. I'm sort of a wreck on any given day). Last night was a good reminder, and I needed it again this morning because I woke up fed-up and grumpy. I need to be reminded often, it is so easy for me to bog down and go astray.**