An Unexpected Interruption
She Was Broken Physically. . .
“And suddenly, a woman who had a flow of blood for twelve years,
came from behind. . .” (Matthew 9:20)
Mark adds this:
“. . . and had suffered many things from many physicians” (Mark 5:25-26).
378,691,200 seconds she had dealt with this issue.
It wasn’t normal. It wasn’t right. She had tried everything she knew to do. Doctors visited. Prayer after prayer has been prayed. Medicines taken and applied. Home remedies: Two chicken feathers dipped in lamp oil and matted with freshly shorn wool. She tried it all, but nothing would bring the relief she needed and longed for. What hopes were lingering now are beginning to diminish. She’s had her last doctor visit. She was no longer welcome to any physician.
She Was Broken Financially. . .
“She had spent all that she had and was no better, but rather grew worse”
What little glimmer of hope she may have had in the medical profession was now gone. Considering that even if there were a wonder doctor that relocated to her area she wouldn’t be able to see him. Or, if some miracle cure was discovered, some newly researched medical breakthrough, it would be of no help to her. Why? She couldn’t afford it. She had written her last check. The bank had closed her account. Everything was gone. She had exhausted her funds. What a mess.
She Was Broken Spiritually. . .
Deserved. That’s what they thought. It’s a working out of the sin in her life. She must be some sort of pervert . . . she’s receiving punishment. God’s punishment. He had removed His hand from her life. She saw it in their eyes. The judgement. The disdain. All this had her an emotional wreck.
She Was Broken Relationally. . .
She’d never have a family of her own. Her condition made it impossible. Whatever bed she sat on, she would defile. She was unlovable, unwanted. Certainly she was being punished. She might as well just wait for it all to come to an end.
That’s what she was. There’s just no other way to put it.
What do you do with broken things?
Throw them out.
Get rid of them.
Carry out the trash.
The garbage must be discarded.
But, not the Artist. . . He’s at work and He sees a masterpiece.
She matters to the Father. He’s willing to move heaven and earth to help her. It’s all about her.
That’s how long she’s been waiting, how long she’s suffered. That’s how long she had been broken. But today something’s about to change.
“When she heard about Jesus, she came behind Him in the crowd
and touched His garment. For she said,
‘If only I may touch His clothes, I shall be made well’” (Mark 5:27-28).
With the words “If only . . .” on her tongue, she makes her way to Jesus. I’m sure her heart sinks as she sees the crowd crushing in. She uses what little strength she has to edge her way through that crowd. They’re relentless. She’s weak, frail.
Tossed around like a ping-pong ball, she pushes her way through. In an instant she’s thrown to her knees. . . but, she can’t stop now. She’s almost there. When she gets within an arm’s length of Jesus, she reaches out her frail, trembling hand and grabs the edge of His garment and:
“Immediately the fountain of her blood was dried up,
and she felt in her body that she was healed of the affliction” (Mark 5:29).
In an instant what she had given everything for she received. What she had sought after for twelve long years she found in a touch of the Artist. Reworked. Restored. She came to Him in pieces, now she leaves in His peace.
An unexpected interruption.
That’s the only way you can describe what just happened.