The Lives He JOins

61
He heals a woman with a blood condition
Mark 5:24b-34

AMONG [THE CROWDS] was a woman who had a haemorrhage for twelve years and who had gone through a great deal at the hands of many doctors (or physicians), spending all her money in the process. She had derived no benefit from them but, on the contrary, was getting worse. This woman had heard about Jesus and came up behind him under cover of the crowd, and touched his cloak, “For if I can only touch his clothes,” she said, “I shall be all right.”​

The haemorrhage stopped immediately, and she knew in herself that she was cured of her trouble. At once Jesus knew intuitively that power had gone out of him, and he turned round in the middle of the crowd and said, “Who touched my clothes?”

His disciples replied, “You can see this crowd jostling you. How can you ask, ‘Who touched me?’”

But he looked all round at their faces to see who had done so. Then the woman, scared and shaking all over because she knew that she was the one to whom this thing had happened, came and flung herself before him and told him the whole story. But he said to her, “Daughter, it is your faith that has healed you. Go home in peace, and be free from your trouble.”

Soon after…

A YOUNG GIRL, TWELVE YEARS OLD, is walking down a narrow trail. The trail descends away from her home—high on the hilltop—and follows a ridge, switchbacking back and forth in its descent. To her left, the panorama of the sea is sparkling. The sky overhead is a pale, calming blue. There are only a very few clouds today. She is off the regular path (this trail is the multiyear creation of her own little feet) and she’s looking forward to seeing a friend down in town.​

A woman is suddenly in view, climbing up from the townside. Her shawl is poor, edged with raggedness. She is intent on watching the upward progress of her steps; she doesn’t notice the young girl descending; they come upon each other, awkwardly, and step to the side of one another.

The woman recognizes the young girl. “You are the daughter of Jairus, are you not?” she asks.

The girl nods her head, carefully.

“Will you do me a favor, then, my dear?” the woman asks.

The girl squints her head and says nothing. (This situation, to her, feels fraught.)

“Ask your abba to tell you the story—whether now or later tonight—of your twelve years and my twelve years. We will always share a story together, you and I…”

The woman walks off upward, smiling a smile to herself. The girl watches her climb.