Passage
“For she said, If I may touch but his clothes, I shall be whole. And straightway the fountain of her blood was dried up.” — Mark 5:28-29
Reflection
She had lived twelve years with an illness that not only weakened her but, under the law of that time, made her ritually unclean, someone who shouldn’t touch anyone in public. She had spent everything she had on doctors with no result. And that day, surrounded by a crowd so large it pressed in on Jesus from every side, she doesn’t shout out her whole story or ask permission out loud. She just comes up from behind and touches the edge of his cloak.
It’s an almost silent kind of faith. No speech, no formal request in front of everyone, not even eye contact before she touches him. And yet, in the middle of a crowd pressing against him from all sides without him reacting to any of it specifically, Jesus stops and asks who touched him. Not because he didn’t know physically what had happened, but because he wanted her, specifically, to stop hiding behind the anonymity of the crowd.
When she comes forward trembling, perhaps expecting to be rebuked for touching him while unclean, Jesus says something entirely different: “Daughter, thy faith hath made thee whole; go in peace” (Mark 5:34). He doesn’t treat her as an interruption on his way to some more urgent healing. He treats her as someone who deserved to be seen and named, not just healed in passing.
Your faith might look more like that hand reaching out in silence than a bold, out-loud prayer. You might feel like the way you approach God is too quiet for him to notice amid everything else he has to attend to. This story shows something different: Jesus stops, specifically, for the faith no one else would have noticed.
Prayer
Lord, thank you that I don’t need to shout for you to notice me. Thank you that, like that woman, I can approach you even in silence, even hidden in the crowd, and you know exactly who is touching you. Help me believe that my quiet faith counts as faith too. Amen.