From :http://kissesfromkatie.blogspot.com/
Just then a having an
issue of blood for twelve years came up behind Him and touched the edge of His
cloak. She said to herself, “If only I touch His cloak, I will be healed.”
Jesus turned and saw her. “Take heart, daughter, “ He said, “Your faith has
healed you. And the woman was healed from that moment. (Matthew 9:20-22)
I resonate deeply with this woman. I can see her,
reaching out for his hem. I can feel the strain, that desperate reaching,
longing just to touch Him, just even the very edge. A longing for only Him.
I am the woman with the issue of blood. Except I am the
woman with the issue of doubt. I am the woman with the issue of sin, with the
issue of flesh, with the issue of forgetfulness. I am a woman who wants to snap
my arms shut and protect, fold my arms tight around this chest to guard my
heart that is still so raw and exposed from being broken. I want to gather
these children to myself and shelter them from the ugly hurt of this world.
But I can’t fold my arms and simultaneously reach out for my
Savior. I reach for Him and I have no choice but to fling my arms wide again. I
reach for Betty’s hand and I know, just like that woman, I must seek Him. I
must know Him. “If only I touch His cloak…”
And do you know what? He isn’t out of reach. I stretch out
my arm and I realize that He is right here, just two steps in front of
me,
clearing the way. The sweet promises of Isaiah flood my mind, “His robe
filled the temple.” I reach and I feel that His hem is wide, enough for
me and for you
and today and tomorrow. Enough to fill and enough to overflow.
Some time last week in the too-early hours of the morning, I
asked God why He allowed me to believe so strongly that Katherine would live
when she wasn’t actually going to. I can usually get a pretty good sense for
those things. It is hard for me to think that My Father saw me in my hope, He knew I
was believing, and He simultaneously knew the ending. I think He answered that
He gave me the grace to believe that
she would live so that in her final days she would feel hope and high spirits
all around her, so that she would feel that she was fought for and that she was
worth the fight. She was worth it.
Its His message to us on the cross and it is His message to
the woman with the issue of blood as He stoops down to look into her eyes, to speak
to her, to meet her need: “You are worth it.” And I want it to be my message to
these hurting that He brings into our lives: You, you are worth it. We are for you. He is for you.
I want my life to be found in chasing after Him and I want my arms to be
filled, not just reaching for, but gathering in the hem of Jesus.
His robe fills the temple. His glory fills the
earth. I want my arms to be filled with gathering His grace, His love,
His
goodness. I want to follow Him wherever He is going and be so full of
Him that He is overflowing out of my arms, out of my very life. Even
when it means reaching out my hand with a smile to a situation that
might hurt,
will hurt.
He gave me the grace to hope. And so I am
asking that He would give more grace, again, even if it is harder to grasp this
time. Grace to feel joy and grace to hope for life and grace to fight hard,
because people are worth the fight. Grace to have arms so filled with Him that they have to remain open, and that He spills out.
