The Woman Who Touched the Cloak of Jesus

Martha, my neighbour, has just been in to see me. She was so excited,

“Have you heard about Jairus?” she said. “Have you heard? His daughter – she died, she actually died and Jesus raised her from the dead! Can you believe that? He raised her from the dead!”

Then she was gone, dear Martha, off to tell someone else the good news.

Can I believe it? Yes I can believe it. He’s done it before. You see I know a lot about Jesus. Stuck inside my house, shunned by everyone, this is what has kept me going - listening to the people standing outside the window in the street. And often they talk of Jesus. He’s done such amazing things. He healed a leper, a demon-possessed man, a centurion’s servant who was close to death, and yes, in Nain, he brought back to life the only son of a poor widow.   Jesus seems to care about everyone; lepers, mad men, widows, even centurions. So when I saw him  from my window, coming through our village, I just thought he might care about me.

It’s been so lonely having this illness. Twelve years I’ve been suffering, twelve years I’ve been bleeding. No one has been able to heal me. I’ve spent all my money on doctors and instead of getting better I’ve just been getting worse. But the worst thing is there has been no-one to share this suffering with. No one has come near me.  I was unclean. Not acceptable. Who in their right mind would come near me? Martha would come by occasionally and leave me food, but she didn’t stay. Why should she? So I was left on my own - just waiting to die.

And then, there he was, Jesus, walking through the village. I heard the crowds at first, and then I heard his name.  So I went to the window and looked out. A huge crowd of people were there. I recognised a few. Jairus, the leader of the synagogue was there. He looked desperate and as they came closer I could hear what he was saying,

“My daughter, my daughter, please heal my daughter!” over and over again.

He was out of his mind with worry. Ah, so that’s where Jesus was going. This was important and I didn’t want to stop him, but I was desperate too, and I thought that if I could just touch him as he walked by, that would be enough. He could heal me. But how? Such a big crowd.

But somehow I had to do it. So I stepped out of my house. Some people shouted at me to stay away, to get back indoors, away from decent people.  For once I didn’t listen, I kept going into the crowd, closer and closer to Jesus. But I couldn’t get close enough – there were just too many people, and I wasn’t strong enough to push my way through them. I could feel my excitement turning into despair, but then I looked down, and there it was –the edge of his cloak right in front of me, trailing along the ground.  I leant forward and reached out my arm as far as I could, and then I felt it. I felt the material brush past my fingers. And then the most amazing feeling.  I can’t describe it, but it swept through the whole of my body and I knew, I just knew I was healed.

I tried to make my way out of the crowd, but then Jesus stopped.

“Who touched me?” he said.  

One of his friends said, “There’s a crowd of people all round you, what do you mean?” I breathed a sigh and looked for a way out of the crowd. But Jesus didn’t move, he spoke again.

 “Someone touched me. Power has gone from me”.

Well I knew I had to own up. So I fell at his feet and told him it was me, and I told him why I had been so desperate to touch his clothes; those twelve years, the shame. Everyone was listening to me now, including people who had ignored and avoided me for years. Now they knew what that had been like for me. And then I looked up at Jesus. He was smiling. Such warmth in his eyes. Then he said to me the words I will never forget as long as I live.

 “Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace”

“Daughter, go in peace”.  

Later on that day he gave a little girl her life back. I think he knew he’d done the same for me.