For twelve long years she suffered.
Her misery engulfed her.
Day after day, year after year, she searched for relief.
She exhausted every avenue of medical knowledge available to her and spent everything she had.
Yet instead of growing better, she only grew worse.
She had an issue.
An issue of life-taking blood.
His presence was great.
Wherever He went, crowds gathered.
Hope followed in His footsteps.
He possessed all the wisdom of His Father,
Yet He had not exhausted it. His power knew no limits.
Soon, He too would have an issue.
An issue of life-giving blood.
But for now, He went about doing good—healing the sick, comforting the brokenhearted, feeding the hungry, and proclaiming the kingdom of God.
Meanwhile, she went about searching.
She had heard the stories.
She had heard about the demon-possessed man who had been set free.
She had heard that even the winds and the waves obeyed Him.
She had heard of the paralytic who walked again and the leper whose skin was made clean.
And she believed.
The stories ignited hope in her weary heart.
Her faith was not polished faith.
It was desperate faith.
According to Jewish law, she was unclean.
An outcast.
Isolated from the normal joys and relationships of life.
For twelve years she carried not only physical suffering but also the weight of shame.
Yet she believed one thing:
If she could only reach Him...
If she could only touch the hem of His garment...
She would be healed.
So she pressed through the crowd.
Weak.
Worn.
Desperate.
Determined.
Then it happened.
One touch.
One moment.
One act of faith.
Immediately the flow of blood ceased.
At the very same instant, Jesus stopped.
With multitudes pressing around Him, He asked, "Who touched Me?"
Why did He notice her touch among so many others?
Perhaps because hers was the touch of desperate faith.
Many touched Him casually.
She touched Him with desperate belief--
Many brushed against Him.
She reached for Him with her heart.
Trembling, she came forward and told Him, "I did."
And then came the words she may have longed to hear all her life:
"Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace."
Daughter.
Not outcast.
Not unclean.
Not forgotten.
Daughter.
And in that moment, the woman with an issue found far more than healing.
She found Him.
_____________________
We all have issues.
Some are visible. Some are hidden.
Some drain our strength, our joy, our hope, and our peace.
What is your issue today?
Have you brought it to Jesus?
Has it driven you to a desperate faith?
For often it is at the end of ourselves that we finally reach for the hem of His garment.
