my take on Mark 5

A large crowd followed the man to Jairus' house, pressing around him. And a young woman was there who had been bleeding for 12 years. In a large crowd, she was isolated and deserted from everyone around her. She tried everything to heal her bleeding, but continued to suffer a great deal under the care of an assortment of churches, Christian literature, friends with good intentions, and attention to boys and the arts. She tried all these antidotes and instead of getting better, she grew worse. She knew about the man with her awareness of him and his scripture grew in each bible study she attended. She did not know him. She realized that even her pride in knowing things would not heal her.

And she traveled from a far-off place to find him and when she heard the man was in town she was resting in, she knew she found her chance to go see him. Anything to try to get to know him more intimately. But when she reached him, a large crowd was there- herds of people all pressing toward the same man. People from towns across the interstate and even different countries, people from all directions, swarmed the man, making it impossible for him to get to where he needed to go. Making it impossible for the girl, small and weak, and overwhelmed by the masses to even get a glimpse of this great man. Her bleeding began to grow worse in this foreign place. She knew about this man her entire life and now, it was life or death. She had to see him. She had to get to him.

The crowd was too dense for her to walk through. She got down on fours and started to crawl between peoples' legs, coughing up dust and collecting the dirt from the soles of peoples' feet which jabbed her in her face. People were too busy pressing forward to see her or help her. But she kept at it- towards her goal- to the feet of this man. Some people were merciless and had no heart. But the man had many disciples there, at least 48. Although they were strangers from her life back home, they could understand the pain of the place she left. Many were crawling on the dusty ground, just as she. In this vast crowd however, it was hard for this girl, who relied so much on herself to grow close to anyone. But a few stood alongside her, helping her get through the crows. And to her surprise, she was able to muster up some strength to help others forward. But with each foot she climbed, she could not avoid being kicked in the face, or coughing up dust, or sliding through puddles of mud. And she never saw herself bleed so much.

Then he was there. Right in front of her stood the back of the man. She knew she was unworthy to rise up and look into his face. From her low place, her eyes focused on the trim of his torn-up trench coat. "Even his dirtiest scrubs are clean enough to heal me," she thought. And she lunged forward, stretching her arm, to the best of her capability, with care not to get too close (out of fear of being seen). Her bleeding stopped and in her whole body she felt freed from her suffering.

But then the man turned around and asked who touched him. Everyone who heard exploded in laughter, or confusion as there were herds of people swarming the man, touching every part of his body. But the woman cringed and sunk back, knowing the curse she bared was upon him. She hoped he would give up. But he kept looking. When she glanced up, she saw his eyes. They were filled with compassion. With a deep breath, she came before him and fell at his feet, her head buried in the mud. She trembled with fear as she told him the complete truth. The dirty secret of her life: she was bleeding. He stepped down and joined her on the muddy pavement. He looked softly into her eyes and called her by her name. He spoke tenderly in the softest but strongest voice she ever heard:

"Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace and be freed from your suffering."