One of my fellow Scribblers, is a minister in the AMC church. Her name is Zenobia Silas-Carson. Every morning, she bubbles up "Good morning All! Hear my happy wind chimes and sweet summery breeze...yada yada yada."
Sigh.
What can I say. I'm not a morning person. But I enjoy her attitude and it helps me wake up. One particular morning, she asked everyone who their favorite woman was, in the Bible. She received the usual: Sarah, Rachel, Tamar, Deborah, Hannah, Ester, etc. No one said my favorite woman.
Well, no wonder. My favorite woman has no name, although she is in three Gospels. I guarantee you, every Christian female, thinks of her, at least once every month. She is in Matthew 9: 20-22, Mark 5: 25-34, Luke 8: 43-48. Three out of four Gospels should tell you how important she is.
Her name is..., well no one knows, probably because she was suffering from Menorrhagia, which is abnormally long and heavy menstrual periods. I assure you that every girl who has every read Matthew 9: 20-22, Mark 5: 25-34, Luke 8: 43-48, instantly prays that Menorrhagia doesn't happen to her. And guaranteed, every month, every female thinks of this unnamed woman, with the utmost empathy.
It is no wonder, this poor woman has no name. She was Jewish. Blood in the traditional Jewish religion is considered polluted. In fact, according to this ancient law, women who bleed, have to separate themselves from the rest of society, and go live in the Red Tent. Here they take refuge during menstruation and births. This poor woman must have lived there permanently.
If she left, she would have been called out, like a leper, "unclean, unclean!"
Somehow she hears of this miracle worker, named Jesus.
What has she got to lose?
She sneaks out and finds Jesus. He is surrounded by a crowd. That's a good thing, for her. She won't stand out. She doesn't want to face him and ask for healing. What if He asks her what her illness is? As soon as she said she constantly bled, people and probably Jesus, Himself, would be repulsed and pull away from her.
So she comes up unnoticed, behind Jesus. She bends to just barely touch one of the tassels on His prayer shawl. Immediately, her body feels healed. The bleeding has stopped.
Unfortunately, Jesus felt some power leave Him. He asks, "Who touched me?"
"Oh no!"
She probably wished the ground would swallow her up. She didn't know what to do or say. The crowd responded, "Are you kidding? The crowd is crushing us, how can we tell?"
But the woman realized that Jesus would know anyway. She should thank Him and acknowledge what she did, and so, "she came forward, trembling. Falling down before Him, she explained in the presence of all the people why she had touched Him and how she had been healed immediately."
A millisecond of silence was deafening. Then Jesus, shook His head affirmingly and smiled. He said, "Daughter, your faith has saved you. Go in peace."
Whew! What a ride! From the shame of rejection, to taking a chance, to holding onto hope, to an unthinking proaction of reaching out to barely touch a fringe of a prayer shawl, to being called out, to embarrassment, to finding the courage to own up to what you did, to acknowledgement of the deed, to acceptance, forgiveness, and finally peace.
Is it no wonder, I empathize with this woman?
Whatever her name is!
