16/12/2022
Contributed by
He looked at her and said
"Who touched me?"
Even then she tried to go unnoticed.
She was conditioned to do so by way of her issue.
To stay in the shadows.
To stay unseen.
Jesus didn't ask who touched Him because He didn't know.
He wasn't about to allow this woman to be healed just in a passing moment,
He looked at her and asked
"Who touched me?”
He was about to make her the very center of His attention.
This is a painful process.
As we live full of shame for our issues, we would rather sneak in and sneak out of the crowd.
To hide our insecurities in a crowd of obscurity.
To reach for His blood, while hiding ours.
The healing of her body required faith.
The healing of her identity required exposure.
To come into the light of His affection while He melts the shadows of shame.
This isn't about her being better than she used to be.
It's not about less pain,
It's about being whole.
It’s not simply above the removal of her suffering, but the bestowing of her identity.
So when Jesus locks eyes with her and asks the question “Who touched me?”
It’s not because He doesn’t know, He is asking if she knows.
For her issue may be of blood, but so is the healing.
For her identity has been relegated to her affliction, buy by way of one touch, it would be restored by His affection.
For her blood spoke shame.
His blood speaks her name.
“Who touched me?”
“You have my attention.”
“What is your name?”
Full of fear and trembling at His glory, she falls down before Him.
“I was the one who touched you.”
Full of joy, in the midst of a crowd of people’s attention, He centers in on the one’s intention.
“Daughter”
“Your faith has made you well.”
“And my gaze has made you whole.”