This is the story of the woman who was healed when she touched the hem of His garment.
Dire Faith
Miriam sat in her little room in her father’s house. She looked down at the little silver dagger in her hand. She had bought it just the other day, in Bethany. Her mother had gone to consult another one of the endless physicians….but Miriam had long since given up all hope. She turned the sharp blade over in her hand. How simple it would be, she thought. She need only open the little vein, so…and they need no longer worry about her.
The little dagger gleamed against the simple brown homespun she wore. Ah, but there had been a time, she remembered, when she had dressed in the finest of linens and silks…but that was all so long ago.
She remembered her wedding day…barely eight years ago, it had been. She had been gorgeously arrayed that day, she remembered, in a gown of the purest silk, brought from the Far East. She had looked and felt like the most beautiful of princesses, as she had gone forward to the handsome young Benjamin, and he had taken her to be his wife. Oh, they had been so happy.
She had been a little shy on their wedding night. And, Miriam remembered, she had been frightened. But her mother had told her what to expect. There would be a little pain, she had told her, and some blood. That was normal. Miriam was not to let it frighten her. Soon, she would see, she would come to enjoy the act of love as much as her husband.
Benjamin had expected her to be a bit timid, and he was prepared to be gentle with her. It usually hurt a woman her first time, the older men had explained to him. And, if she is truly virgin, there will be some bleeding. That is only natural. Be patient with your bride. Give her a little time. Soon, she will be wanting you as much as you want her.
Finally, the moment arrived. Benjamin, who had been carefully schooled by the older men, was prepared for some tears and some bleeding, so he did not let his new bride’s cries of pain deter him. He was gentle, but persistent. When it was over, he was horrified to see his new wife lying on her side clutching herself, crying in pain, as the blood poured from her. Not knowing what else to do, he withdrew in confusion, leaving Miriam to make what repairs she could, and join him when she felt ready.
From that time on, to Benjamin’s disappointment and dismay, his wife was, to say the least, a reluctant participant in the act of love. But, as time passed, Miriam found that she could please her husband, after a fashion, although she never did come to enjoy it as the older women had promised. For her, the act of love would always be a painful ordeal.
Two years passed. Benjamin had long since given up hope that his marriage would ever be fulfilling, and had given himself to his work. Miriam found her joy in her little garden. But then, to the amazement of both of them, the time came when the way of women passed her by…for a month…then two. Miriam was with child.
For a time, it was as if they had been newly wed. There was so much joy in their little house; Miriam thought the walls could not contain it. She looked into her husband’s eyes…and kept her fears to herself. She began to plan for the infant’s arrival…his clothing, his cradle…everything must be just perfect for their new little son…for Miriam was determined to give her beloved Benjamin a son. He had been such a kind, such a patient husband to her. Surely, God would hear her prayers….
And so everything had gone along, happily enough. Until one day…it was the middle of her seventh month. She had been feeling restless all that day. There had been a strange pain…but she had been determined not to let it bother her, as she went about her usual household duties. She had been unusually weary that night, as she climbed heavily up to her bed.
The night had been far gone, when the household was awakened by her screams. Benjamin had gone tearing up the stairs, and ran headlong into his wife’s room. By the light of the lamp held high over his head, the entire household could see…there would be no infant. The child had torn its way prematurely from his poor mother’s belly. Miriam was lying in a pool of blood…the light dying from her eyes. The housemaid hustled Benjamin out of the room and had gone about doing what was necessary for the poor girl…but the child was gone. And Miriam continued to bleed. From that day on, Miriam bled steadily, as if the curse of women had settled upon her and refused to move on when the time came.
After the tenth month, Benjamin sadly informed her that, although it hurt him deeply, he had decided to put her away. Miriam had accepted his decision, and had gone back to her father’s house. Her father had been furious when Benjamin’s new wife was brought to bed of a son barely eight months after their wedding day, but Miriam was not surprised, nor was she particularly angry. Her mother had carried her to every physician in the entire land, but one after the other, they had shaken their heads. Nothing they could do, they muttered. For no reason they could fathom, Miriam had not seemed to mature in the way of most women…it was amazing that she had ever conceived at all. No, they could not stop the bleeding. None of them could. They couldn’t understand what was making her bleed in the first place.
And Miriam continued to bleed. Day after weary day. She had grown pale and thin, and her parents became more and more protective of her. She had come to the point where she had begun to pray for death to come. What possible purpose, she wondered, could God have in letting her continue to live?
Then, excitement seemed to fill the air as people began to talk of Jesus…Jesus, the Miracle Man. Jesus, Who had made crippled legs walk again. Jesus, Who had made blind eyes see. Jesus, Who had cast out demons. Jesus, Who had healed every manner of disease…including…and here the speaker’s voice would drop to the barest of whispers…including the dreaded leprosy.
The discussions between Miriam’s parents grew heated. Miriam’s mother cited miracle after miracle. She was determined to take her daughter to Him. What harm could it do, she wanted to know. The best physicians in the land could not help their child. Perhaps this Jesus could. But Miriam’s father would not hear of any such thing. He believed this Jesus to be a charlatan, a blasphemer…claiming Himself to be equal to God…and wanted nothing to do with Him. “Why,” he bellowed, “do you realize that people are saying that He is the Son of God? The priests and elders of our people are furious with Him. What do you suppose will happen when He is exposed? Do you want it said that we took our daughter to Him? Why, we will be thrown out of the synagogue! No, my dear, it won’t do. Let’s hear no more of this Jesus nonsense.”
But Miriam’s mother was not one to give up so easily. She had gone secretly, without her husband’s knowledge, and had talked to one of the famed apostles…a man named Thomas.
“Yes, Jesus has done some amazing things,” Thomas allowed. “I am sure that He could heal your daughter’s affliction. Can’t you tell me what it is?”
But this Miriam’s mother had refused to do, so after some debate, there seemed to be little point in continuing the conversation. Sadly, Miriam’s mother had gone back home.
But now, the entire area was abuzz with the news. Jesus was here! Jesus! He was on His way to Jerusalem; the story went, to proclaim Himself the rightful King of the Jews, and to ascend the throne. He would be here this week…tomorrow! Jesus!
“Bah,” Miriam’s father said. “On His way to Jerusalem, is He? Ha! Once He shows His face in Jerusalem, the elders of our people will know how to deal with Him. We need no more false Messiahs.”
But Miriam’s mother quietly climbed the stairs to Miriam’s room. “Jesus is on His way,” she said softly to her daughter.
“Jesus?” Miriam asked tiredly.
“Haven’t you heard?” her mother asked. “Jesus has done some truly miraculous things. He has healed many of their afflictions…”
“Oh, Mother,” Miriam had sighed. “Not another one of your precious wonder workers.”
“Jesus is different,” her mother had insisted. “I think He truly has the power of God at His command.”
Miriam looked at her. “Then what would He be doing here?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” her mother answered honestly. “Many are saying that He is on His way to Jerusalem to proclaim Himself as the Messiah.” She paused. “With the multitudes that follow Him, He could do it, easily,” she added. “But I wonder…”
“What, Mother?” Miriam asked.
“Oh…nothing. I was just thinking.”
“Do you think Jesus could help me?” Miriam asked.
Her mother looked at her for a long time. “I think He is the only One Who can…” she finally whispered.
Miriam spent a long and a restless night that night. Often and often, she drew the little silver dagger from underneath her pillow. She stared at it, as it gleamed in the little ray of starlight that came in through her bedroom window. Once or twice, she actually held it, poised, above the spot on her wrist where the blood pulsed warm…. How easy, she thought. How easy it would be.
From nowhere, the thought came to her…. “Thou shalt not kill”…. She gave a start. Had she spoken aloud?
“Thou shalt not kill,” she thought. But, I am not taking anyone’s life but my own. Surely, I have the right to stop living….
“The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away…”
There. That time, she had heard it, she was sure. It was her imagination, she thought. She had heard that sometimes, people on the verge of taking their own lives might hear strange voices. “Blessed be the name of the Lord.” Just her imagination.
“Fear not, little one,” the voice said. She looked up. She saw…no it couldn’t be. She shook her head to clear it, and looked again. The air in the corner of her room seemed to…shimmer…and there sat a being, with the face and form of a little child…only with the most beautiful of wings, and the purest of voices, who smiled at her. Could this be an angel? She had heard of such beings…but she had never expected to actually see one. “The Lord is going to work a work in you,” the being…surely this lovely thing must be an angel…told her, “that will amaze all who hear of it. Only be of good courage, for you are beloved of the Lord.” And with a final smile at her, the…angel…faded from her sight.
The next afternoon, she sat in her little window. After much confused thought, she had come to the unhappy conclusion that what she had thought she had seen and heard last night was only her poor, overworked imagination. She had been bleeding steadily for more than a year, and she had become weak, and subject to fits of fainting. That was all it had been, she thought. Perhaps the Lord, in His kindness, was preparing her for the death that was surely inevitable. For she could surely not last much longer this way…
Suddenly, her head came up. What was that noise? There was a tumult being raised, and whatever it was was headed this way.
“Hosanna!” she heard. “Hosanna! Hosanna in the Highest! Blessed is He Who comes in the Name of The Lord!!”
She looked toward the sound. Great multitudes of people were coming toward the house, it seemed. And…at their center, surrounded by a small group of men who seemed to be trying to keep the crowd from pressing on Him, was a Man…
The crowd stopped. Suddenly… “I can see!” came the joyous cry. “I can see!” A small group of people broke away from the crowd, and followed after the man who was happily proclaiming his recovery from blindness to all who would listen. The main body of men and women continued on their way.
Miriam called for a servant. When he came, she sent him down into the street to inquire what all the noise was about.
Several minutes passed. Soon, the servant returned. “It is the One called Jesus, Mistress,” the man said. “They say He is on His way to Jerusalem.”
“Jesus,” she breathed. Dismissing the servant, she leaned out of her window, until she was in danger of falling out.
A pair of eyes met hers. Shocked, she jumped back. As she looked, she recognized the angel that had appeared to her the night before. “Go to Him,” the voice said. “Go! Go to Him! Hurry!” The words hung in the air, as the vision faded away.
Go to Him. Well, that was simple enough, she thought. If only she dared. What if….what if her mother were right? What if Jesus, Who so many believed to be the Promised One….what if He were, indeed, the only One Who could help her? He was out there, passing by her house, right now. There…He was practically in her front yard! Soon, He would be gone, and so would her one chance! Suddenly, she stood up. She had made her decision. After all, she had been to every physician in the entire land, and none of them could help her. This Jesus, Who many were hailing as The Son of God, was her only hope. Squaring her shoulders, she marched out into the street.
However, she found that getting close to Him was not as easy as she had thought. Crowds of people, all of whom struggled to get closer to their Hero, surrounded Him on all sides. She fought her way forward for several blocks, as the crowd surged around her. Twice, she almost gave up and went home. It was impossible, especially in her weakened condition. But, she was determined. If she gave up now, she thought, what hope was left for her? She would continue to fade away, until finally, she would be gone…. With new determination, she pushed, elbowed and shoved until she reached the front of the heaving mob. A young man, noticing her struggles, came to her aid. He got in front of her, shielding her from the heaving crowds, pushing and shoving to clear a path for her…and with his help, she moved steadily forward. Finally, she was within reach. Should she draw attention to herself? No! Such a thing was unthinkable to her. Surely, if He was, truly, the Son of The Living God, as these people were loudly proclaiming…surely, all that would be necessary was to reach out…and touch the hem of His garment. Timidly, slowly, she reached out….and her trembling hand touched Him, just for the briefest of seconds….and in that very moment, she knew. She couldn’t say how she knew, but she was sure. Her long malady was at an end. The endless fountain of blood from within her had finally dried up.
Suddenly, Jesus stopped. The crowd went still. “Who touched Me?” he asked.
One of the men who walked with Him, looking sheepishly at the crowd around them, touched His shoulder. “Lord,” he said reasonably, “the crowd presses in on all sides. How can You ask, ‘who touched Me?’ Why, it could be any one of these people who love You!”
“No,” Jesus insisted, gently but firmly. “Someone has touched Me, for I felt healing flow out of Me.”
Slowly, Miriam came forward. The crowd, which had seemed insurmountable a few minutes before, now parted before her. She made her way to Jesus, where she fell gratefully at His feet. “It was I, Master,” she confessed. Standing tall before them all, she unashamedly told her story. “I was healed, the moment my hand touched Your garment,” she said softly. Then, turning to the crowd, she shouted at the top of her voice, “I am healed! I am whole!” The mob roared their approval.
Jesus smiled at her. “Your faith has made you whole,” He said simply.
Faith, Miriam thought. Faith. She had heard that word before, but now, for the first time, she began to understand what it might mean. Faith. Faith in the One True God…and in His Only Begotten Son, Jesus Christ. Faith that had changed her life…for, she knew, from that day forward, she would be as any other woman. She would find another husband…and she would know the joy of being a wife and a mother. And, finally, in God’s own time, her faith would bring her home…
Dire Faith
Miriam sat in her little room in her father’s house. She looked down at the little silver dagger in her hand. She had bought it just the other day, in Bethany. Her mother had gone to consult another one of the endless physicians….but Miriam had long since given up all hope. She turned the sharp blade over in her hand. How simple it would be, she thought. She need only open the little vein, so…and they need no longer worry about her.
The little dagger gleamed against the simple brown homespun she wore. Ah, but there had been a time, she remembered, when she had dressed in the finest of linens and silks…but that was all so long ago.
She remembered her wedding day…barely eight years ago, it had been. She had been gorgeously arrayed that day, she remembered, in a gown of the purest silk, brought from the Far East. She had looked and felt like the most beautiful of princesses, as she had gone forward to the handsome young Benjamin, and he had taken her to be his wife. Oh, they had been so happy.
She had been a little shy on their wedding night. And, Miriam remembered, she had been frightened. But her mother had told her what to expect. There would be a little pain, she had told her, and some blood. That was normal. Miriam was not to let it frighten her. Soon, she would see, she would come to enjoy the act of love as much as her husband.
Benjamin had expected her to be a bit timid, and he was prepared to be gentle with her. It usually hurt a woman her first time, the older men had explained to him. And, if she is truly virgin, there will be some bleeding. That is only natural. Be patient with your bride. Give her a little time. Soon, she will be wanting you as much as you want her.
Finally, the moment arrived. Benjamin, who had been carefully schooled by the older men, was prepared for some tears and some bleeding, so he did not let his new bride’s cries of pain deter him. He was gentle, but persistent. When it was over, he was horrified to see his new wife lying on her side clutching herself, crying in pain, as the blood poured from her. Not knowing what else to do, he withdrew in confusion, leaving Miriam to make what repairs she could, and join him when she felt ready.
From that time on, to Benjamin’s disappointment and dismay, his wife was, to say the least, a reluctant participant in the act of love. But, as time passed, Miriam found that she could please her husband, after a fashion, although she never did come to enjoy it as the older women had promised. For her, the act of love would always be a painful ordeal.
Two years passed. Benjamin had long since given up hope that his marriage would ever be fulfilling, and had given himself to his work. Miriam found her joy in her little garden. But then, to the amazement of both of them, the time came when the way of women passed her by…for a month…then two. Miriam was with child.
For a time, it was as if they had been newly wed. There was so much joy in their little house; Miriam thought the walls could not contain it. She looked into her husband’s eyes…and kept her fears to herself. She began to plan for the infant’s arrival…his clothing, his cradle…everything must be just perfect for their new little son…for Miriam was determined to give her beloved Benjamin a son. He had been such a kind, such a patient husband to her. Surely, God would hear her prayers….
And so everything had gone along, happily enough. Until one day…it was the middle of her seventh month. She had been feeling restless all that day. There had been a strange pain…but she had been determined not to let it bother her, as she went about her usual household duties. She had been unusually weary that night, as she climbed heavily up to her bed.
The night had been far gone, when the household was awakened by her screams. Benjamin had gone tearing up the stairs, and ran headlong into his wife’s room. By the light of the lamp held high over his head, the entire household could see…there would be no infant. The child had torn its way prematurely from his poor mother’s belly. Miriam was lying in a pool of blood…the light dying from her eyes. The housemaid hustled Benjamin out of the room and had gone about doing what was necessary for the poor girl…but the child was gone. And Miriam continued to bleed. From that day on, Miriam bled steadily, as if the curse of women had settled upon her and refused to move on when the time came.
After the tenth month, Benjamin sadly informed her that, although it hurt him deeply, he had decided to put her away. Miriam had accepted his decision, and had gone back to her father’s house. Her father had been furious when Benjamin’s new wife was brought to bed of a son barely eight months after their wedding day, but Miriam was not surprised, nor was she particularly angry. Her mother had carried her to every physician in the entire land, but one after the other, they had shaken their heads. Nothing they could do, they muttered. For no reason they could fathom, Miriam had not seemed to mature in the way of most women…it was amazing that she had ever conceived at all. No, they could not stop the bleeding. None of them could. They couldn’t understand what was making her bleed in the first place.
And Miriam continued to bleed. Day after weary day. She had grown pale and thin, and her parents became more and more protective of her. She had come to the point where she had begun to pray for death to come. What possible purpose, she wondered, could God have in letting her continue to live?
Then, excitement seemed to fill the air as people began to talk of Jesus…Jesus, the Miracle Man. Jesus, Who had made crippled legs walk again. Jesus, Who had made blind eyes see. Jesus, Who had cast out demons. Jesus, Who had healed every manner of disease…including…and here the speaker’s voice would drop to the barest of whispers…including the dreaded leprosy.
The discussions between Miriam’s parents grew heated. Miriam’s mother cited miracle after miracle. She was determined to take her daughter to Him. What harm could it do, she wanted to know. The best physicians in the land could not help their child. Perhaps this Jesus could. But Miriam’s father would not hear of any such thing. He believed this Jesus to be a charlatan, a blasphemer…claiming Himself to be equal to God…and wanted nothing to do with Him. “Why,” he bellowed, “do you realize that people are saying that He is the Son of God? The priests and elders of our people are furious with Him. What do you suppose will happen when He is exposed? Do you want it said that we took our daughter to Him? Why, we will be thrown out of the synagogue! No, my dear, it won’t do. Let’s hear no more of this Jesus nonsense.”
But Miriam’s mother was not one to give up so easily. She had gone secretly, without her husband’s knowledge, and had talked to one of the famed apostles…a man named Thomas.
“Yes, Jesus has done some amazing things,” Thomas allowed. “I am sure that He could heal your daughter’s affliction. Can’t you tell me what it is?”
But this Miriam’s mother had refused to do, so after some debate, there seemed to be little point in continuing the conversation. Sadly, Miriam’s mother had gone back home.
But now, the entire area was abuzz with the news. Jesus was here! Jesus! He was on His way to Jerusalem; the story went, to proclaim Himself the rightful King of the Jews, and to ascend the throne. He would be here this week…tomorrow! Jesus!
“Bah,” Miriam’s father said. “On His way to Jerusalem, is He? Ha! Once He shows His face in Jerusalem, the elders of our people will know how to deal with Him. We need no more false Messiahs.”
But Miriam’s mother quietly climbed the stairs to Miriam’s room. “Jesus is on His way,” she said softly to her daughter.
“Jesus?” Miriam asked tiredly.
“Haven’t you heard?” her mother asked. “Jesus has done some truly miraculous things. He has healed many of their afflictions…”
“Oh, Mother,” Miriam had sighed. “Not another one of your precious wonder workers.”
“Jesus is different,” her mother had insisted. “I think He truly has the power of God at His command.”
Miriam looked at her. “Then what would He be doing here?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” her mother answered honestly. “Many are saying that He is on His way to Jerusalem to proclaim Himself as the Messiah.” She paused. “With the multitudes that follow Him, He could do it, easily,” she added. “But I wonder…”
“What, Mother?” Miriam asked.
“Oh…nothing. I was just thinking.”
“Do you think Jesus could help me?” Miriam asked.
Her mother looked at her for a long time. “I think He is the only One Who can…” she finally whispered.
Miriam spent a long and a restless night that night. Often and often, she drew the little silver dagger from underneath her pillow. She stared at it, as it gleamed in the little ray of starlight that came in through her bedroom window. Once or twice, she actually held it, poised, above the spot on her wrist where the blood pulsed warm…. How easy, she thought. How easy it would be.
From nowhere, the thought came to her…. “Thou shalt not kill”…. She gave a start. Had she spoken aloud?
“Thou shalt not kill,” she thought. But, I am not taking anyone’s life but my own. Surely, I have the right to stop living….
“The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away…”
There. That time, she had heard it, she was sure. It was her imagination, she thought. She had heard that sometimes, people on the verge of taking their own lives might hear strange voices. “Blessed be the name of the Lord.” Just her imagination.
“Fear not, little one,” the voice said. She looked up. She saw…no it couldn’t be. She shook her head to clear it, and looked again. The air in the corner of her room seemed to…shimmer…and there sat a being, with the face and form of a little child…only with the most beautiful of wings, and the purest of voices, who smiled at her. Could this be an angel? She had heard of such beings…but she had never expected to actually see one. “The Lord is going to work a work in you,” the being…surely this lovely thing must be an angel…told her, “that will amaze all who hear of it. Only be of good courage, for you are beloved of the Lord.” And with a final smile at her, the…angel…faded from her sight.
The next afternoon, she sat in her little window. After much confused thought, she had come to the unhappy conclusion that what she had thought she had seen and heard last night was only her poor, overworked imagination. She had been bleeding steadily for more than a year, and she had become weak, and subject to fits of fainting. That was all it had been, she thought. Perhaps the Lord, in His kindness, was preparing her for the death that was surely inevitable. For she could surely not last much longer this way…
Suddenly, her head came up. What was that noise? There was a tumult being raised, and whatever it was was headed this way.
“Hosanna!” she heard. “Hosanna! Hosanna in the Highest! Blessed is He Who comes in the Name of The Lord!!”
She looked toward the sound. Great multitudes of people were coming toward the house, it seemed. And…at their center, surrounded by a small group of men who seemed to be trying to keep the crowd from pressing on Him, was a Man…
The crowd stopped. Suddenly… “I can see!” came the joyous cry. “I can see!” A small group of people broke away from the crowd, and followed after the man who was happily proclaiming his recovery from blindness to all who would listen. The main body of men and women continued on their way.
Miriam called for a servant. When he came, she sent him down into the street to inquire what all the noise was about.
Several minutes passed. Soon, the servant returned. “It is the One called Jesus, Mistress,” the man said. “They say He is on His way to Jerusalem.”
“Jesus,” she breathed. Dismissing the servant, she leaned out of her window, until she was in danger of falling out.
A pair of eyes met hers. Shocked, she jumped back. As she looked, she recognized the angel that had appeared to her the night before. “Go to Him,” the voice said. “Go! Go to Him! Hurry!” The words hung in the air, as the vision faded away.
Go to Him. Well, that was simple enough, she thought. If only she dared. What if….what if her mother were right? What if Jesus, Who so many believed to be the Promised One….what if He were, indeed, the only One Who could help her? He was out there, passing by her house, right now. There…He was practically in her front yard! Soon, He would be gone, and so would her one chance! Suddenly, she stood up. She had made her decision. After all, she had been to every physician in the entire land, and none of them could help her. This Jesus, Who many were hailing as The Son of God, was her only hope. Squaring her shoulders, she marched out into the street.
However, she found that getting close to Him was not as easy as she had thought. Crowds of people, all of whom struggled to get closer to their Hero, surrounded Him on all sides. She fought her way forward for several blocks, as the crowd surged around her. Twice, she almost gave up and went home. It was impossible, especially in her weakened condition. But, she was determined. If she gave up now, she thought, what hope was left for her? She would continue to fade away, until finally, she would be gone…. With new determination, she pushed, elbowed and shoved until she reached the front of the heaving mob. A young man, noticing her struggles, came to her aid. He got in front of her, shielding her from the heaving crowds, pushing and shoving to clear a path for her…and with his help, she moved steadily forward. Finally, she was within reach. Should she draw attention to herself? No! Such a thing was unthinkable to her. Surely, if He was, truly, the Son of The Living God, as these people were loudly proclaiming…surely, all that would be necessary was to reach out…and touch the hem of His garment. Timidly, slowly, she reached out….and her trembling hand touched Him, just for the briefest of seconds….and in that very moment, she knew. She couldn’t say how she knew, but she was sure. Her long malady was at an end. The endless fountain of blood from within her had finally dried up.
Suddenly, Jesus stopped. The crowd went still. “Who touched Me?” he asked.
One of the men who walked with Him, looking sheepishly at the crowd around them, touched His shoulder. “Lord,” he said reasonably, “the crowd presses in on all sides. How can You ask, ‘who touched Me?’ Why, it could be any one of these people who love You!”
“No,” Jesus insisted, gently but firmly. “Someone has touched Me, for I felt healing flow out of Me.”
Slowly, Miriam came forward. The crowd, which had seemed insurmountable a few minutes before, now parted before her. She made her way to Jesus, where she fell gratefully at His feet. “It was I, Master,” she confessed. Standing tall before them all, she unashamedly told her story. “I was healed, the moment my hand touched Your garment,” she said softly. Then, turning to the crowd, she shouted at the top of her voice, “I am healed! I am whole!” The mob roared their approval.
Jesus smiled at her. “Your faith has made you whole,” He said simply.
Faith, Miriam thought. Faith. She had heard that word before, but now, for the first time, she began to understand what it might mean. Faith. Faith in the One True God…and in His Only Begotten Son, Jesus Christ. Faith that had changed her life…for, she knew, from that day forward, she would be as any other woman. She would find another husband…and she would know the joy of being a wife and a mother. And, finally, in God’s own time, her faith would bring her home…
