 |
| Art by Rothko Stain by Troy. |
12 years of hemorrhage. 12 years of ritual impurity.
She couldn't worship in the temple. People wouldn't even sit where she had been seated.
The impure defiles the pure...at least that's the way it had always been.
There are various diseases which cause hemorrhaging. One in particular results when young girls bear children, perhaps because of rape, or being married very early--a child expected to meet adult demands. I wonder what caused this woman's disease.
However it came about...
She was a red stain on society. An outcast.
But she wasn't ignorant. She knew the corner fringes were the holiest part of Jesus' robe. And she wasn't a coward. She worked her way through the mass of people who shied away from contact with her.
Would they have stopped her? If they had seen her coming? Only to protect Jesus, of course. Her defiled hands staining his holy presence. The great teacher/prophet/healer reduced to ritual impurity--all because of her stain.
Was it desperation? Was she willing to try anything no matter the consequences--anything for healing? Or did her boldness flow from understanding, from faith?
Did she have eyes to see what most could not?
A woman who saw a white stronger than red. A purity stronger than her stain. Her fingers of faith reached out to touch the robe of the One who healed her hemorrhage, the One who healed her shame, the One who commended her, and the One who called her His own.
"Courage daughter! Your trust has healed you." Matt. 9:22
