She bled for twelve years. A nameless, faceless woman in Mark 5 pushed through the throngs of people all wanting a miracle. But she was different. She believed. Her belief healed her.
Suzie bled in silence. Behind her pixie physique and wide smile was a girl who was unaccepted, untouched, unloved. Youth camps, all-nighters, bible studies, and mission trips all hid the internal bleeding which was killing her softly. No one knew her.
Jesus stopped the world on it’s axis to meet the need of one woman. A woman he knew had been unaccepted, untouched, and unloved. According to the halacha Hebrew law, a bleeding woman couldn’t sit in certain places, eat with certain people, or touch anyone who was pure. But she knew, she really, really, believed that a man name Jesus could heal her. And he did.
In the suicide ward I sat with Suzie for hours. A cutter, a loner, a girl hemorraging from a broken heart who masked it with indie fashion and blonde hair. Unsure of what to say, the only words said for the first hour was, What can I do for you? She laid on the hospital bed; the red scars glowed like neon signs for help against the clean white sheets.
Just touch me, she said. Just love me.
In living Life out loud, we have the power to be the physical touch of Jesus. Though I didn’t have the power to heal Suzie, I told her she didn’t have to suffer any longer. Her scars and stripes are now going to serve as signs of rememberance of what was stated in Isaiah 53:5, by His wounds we are healed.
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