"Who Touched Me?"
As Jesus moved through the crowd the situation was becoming more and more intense. Everyone in Capernaum had heard of the miracles the young Rabbi from Nazareth had done and all were clamoring and thrusting themselves at Him in pursuit of actually witnessing more of the same.
He was not at all affected by their thrill seeking nor their emotional display. Their anxious pushing and shoving did not deter His purpose. Their pleading could not pursuade Him. They could not appeal to His ego and pride, for He had none. He knew Who He was and didn't have to prove it.
Suddenly His steps were halted. The multitude in great anticipation fell silent.
"Who touched Me?", said the son of man. "Who is the one who has touched Me?"
Most everyone had managed to make contact with Him in some manner or other and were, no doubt, confused by the question. Obviously bewildered Peter said, "Master! All are crowding you and pressing upon you yet you ask who touched you?"
"Someone did touch Me for Power has gone out from Me!"
Then the eyes of The Son of God fixed upon the woman. Seeing that He knew she was the one, she humbly approached Him. In trembling, unaware of the consequences she fell at His feet.
"It was I Lord. I cannot hide from you. I thought that if I could just touch the hem of your robe I might be healed. I could not help myself. It was as if I was being drawn to you. Then at the very moment my fingers touched the fringe I felt the agony of twelve endless years lifted from me. It vanished as if it had never been there at all.
You're the One. You ARE The One!"
Wiping the tears from her thankful eyes and gazing into His own reflection Jesus whispered..."I Am".
None had moved Him. Not one had any effect on Him whatsoever. None but the one whose broken heart touched His. The one who in spite of her weakness and frailty pursued in hope. The one who fought back the torment of doubt and the fear of failure. The one who had been made to feel worthless and unclean. The one who had been mocked and scorned. The one who even in her agonizing pain pressed on. Pressed on believing that Jesus could heal her.
She believed in Him. She simply believed.
In the midst of seemingly impossible odds, she saw in Jesus the Unconditional Love and Grace of God Himself. Her hope begat faith. God given faith. It was her faith that touched the Heart of the Son of God...not her fingers. Yes, simple childlike faith moved Jesus. Moved Him to say..."Who touched Me?"