The Woman Who Touched His Garment

A woman who had been subject to bleeding for twelve years... had suffered a great deal under the care of many doctors and had spent all she had, yet instead of getting better she grew worse. She heard about Jesus and came up behind him in the crowd and touched his cloak, because she thought, 'If I just touch his clothes, I will be healed.'

This woman has been bleeding for twelve years. Twelve years of shame in a culture that viewed menstruation as unclean. Twelve years of isolation. Twelve years of seeking healing and getting worse. She has nothing left—not hope, not money, not dignity. And she touches Jesus's garment. The act is almost desperate in its simplicity. She doesn't ask permission. She doesn't explain her situation. She just touches. And she is healed.

What gets me is that she was healed the moment she touched him, but he turned and asked who touched him. He didn't have to acknowledge her. But he did. He insisted on her having to confess, having to step out of anonymity. Some readers find that cruel—why not let her slip away quietly, healed and unnoticed? But I think he gave her something more valuable than just physical healing. He gave her visibility. He named what happened. He said 'your faith has healed you' as if she was a whole person making a conscious choice, not just a disease receiving treatment. In that moment, she went from being the bleeding woman to being a person with faith. She went from shame to honor.