This verse strikes me. It’s not even a whole verse, but a partial verse. And all who touched Him were healed.
I try to imagine the possibility of getting to touch Jesus — reaching out to the tattered, filthy hem of his garment. Reaching out just to graze him, to touch a bit of Him.
At the time, people were crowding. They couldn’t wait to touch Jesus. All those people needing the healing power of Jesus, and they only needed to touch Him, a swipe of their fingers, a brush of their hands, and they were healed. It was a world filled with people who needed healed.
It still is. This hasn’t changed since Jesus walked the earth, dust caking his feet and threads wearing out on his clothes. The world needs to touch Jesus.
God is counting on those who believe. He is counting on us to be the hands and feet of Jesus. He is counting on us to offer healing touches. To give a listening ear, to offer a meal, to meet someone at the hospital, to write a check for another’s heat, to kick back and relax with someone who is stressed, to laugh and cry and help and smile — to look for moments and opportunities to touch others so Jesus can heal.
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