Taking a Risk of Faith

Then Jesus reassured her: “Courage, daughter. You took a risk of faith, and now you’re well.”

Matthew 9:22 “The Hemorrhaged Woman”

̴The Message

God meets us in movement. The hemorrhaged woman risked the crowd’s ridicule and shame to move toward Jesus. Imagine being deemed unclean, being fearful of touching another person, being isolated from humanity, feeling a constant sense of shame. The hemorrhaged woman felt all these things and still she pushed through the crowd to move toward Jesus.

As today’s invisible virus silently spreads throughout our communities, this familiar story touches me in a fresh way. Masks and plastic barriers create a sense of shame and isolation, a strange feeling a being unclean. Fear halts a kind touch. Uncertainty isolates as we protect loved ones from infection, possibly death. How do we move toward God in this moment?

Psalm 46:10 reminds us, “Be still and know that I am God.”

Could it be…. could it be that movement toward God means giving up the illusion of control? Releasing our clinched fists for open hands. Seeking gratitude instead of complaint. Exchanging tomorrow’s uncertainty for today’s wonders….

A simple dinner with family.

An evening game with kids.

A phone call.

Blooming flowers and painted sunsets.

Laughter and tears.

Friendship.

Neighbors.

The calming coo of a dove on an early morning walk.

The silly antics of a beloved pet.

Quiet moments of listening to God’s still small voice.

God meets us in movement. Sometimes, that movement simply means opening our hands to Jesus in the present moment.

The hemorrhaged woman moved toward Jesus because she understood the uncertainty of the world and longed for healing. Like many of us, this broken woman reached her limit of loneliness, fear, and isolation. She took a risk reaching for Jesus and Jesus honored her courage. What do we risk by moving toward Jesus? What must we release to open our hands and be still before the Lord? Come, Jesus gifts us with peace and joy as we open our hands and reach for Him. “Courage, daughter. You took a risk of faith, and now you’re well.”