“Now a certain woman had a flow of blood for twelve years… She had spent all that she had and was no better, but rather grew worse. When she heard about Jesus, she came behind Him in the crowd and touched His garment… And He said to her, ‘Daughter, your faith has made you well. Go in peace, and be healed of your affliction.'”
— Mark 5:25–34

Alone. Sick. Desperate.

This woman—whose name we’re never told—was completely cut off.
Not just physically suffering from a chronic hemorrhage for twelve years, but socially and spiritually unclean according to the law. Untouchable. Unwelcome. Unseen.

She had spent everything she had trying to get better—physicians, treatments, remedies—but nothing had worked. In fact, she had only grown worse.

She had no resources left.
No more options.
No hope…

Until she heard that Jesus was coming through the crowd.

She Shouldn’t Have Been There—But She Came Anyway

By every standard of her time, this woman had no right to be in public, let alone in a crowd. Her condition made her ceremonially unclean, which meant anyone she touched would be unclean too.

But she came.
Quietly.
Humbly.
Expectantly.

She wasn’t trying to make a scene. She wasn’t looking for attention.
She just wanted to be whole.

“If only I may touch His clothes, I shall be made well.”

That thought—born out of deep need and deep belief—led her to reach out with faith.
Not a tentative, maybe-it’ll-work kind of faith. But a bold, I know He can kind of faith.

And in that one moment of contact, healing came.

The Power That Flows—and the Cost It Carries

Immediately, her body was healed.
But the story doesn’t end there.

Jesus stopped.

In the middle of a crowded street, surrounded by people pressing in on every side, He paused and asked, “Who touched My clothes?”

Of course, He already knew.
But He wanted her to know.
To know that she wasn’t just healed—she was seen.

He wanted her to have the opportunity to declare her faith, to be publicly restored, and to hear the words that would change everything:

“Daughter, your faith has made you well. Go in peace, and be healed of your affliction.”

He called her Daughter.
He gave her not only healing, but identity.
Not just relief from pain, but peace.
Not just physical restoration, but spiritual belonging.

And He let us glimpse something else too:
Healing cost Him.
Power went out of Him. Ministry took something real from Him.
It always had. It always would—up to and through the cross.

A Faith That Presses Through the Crowd

I think about this woman and the way she came to Jesus—unworthy, hidden, hurting… but hopeful.

That’s how many of us approach Him, isn’t it?

We don’t always come shouting our faith from the rooftops.
Sometimes we come quietly, trembling, barely holding on.

But Jesus honors that kind of faith.
The faith that says, “I know who You are. And I know what You can do.”

Hope That Knows

This woman didn’t come to Jesus with a passive, maybe-it’ll-work-out kind of hope.
She came with certainty in His power.

Her faith wasn’t, “I hope He notices me.”
It was, “If I can just touch Him, I will be made well.”

That kind of expectancy moves the heart of God.
And He still meets us with that same tenderness, power, and peace.

He doesn’t shame us for our pain.
He doesn’t recoil from what makes us feel unclean.
He meets us exactly where we are—and does far more than we could imagine.

A Final Thought

Maybe you feel like the woman in this story today—unclean, unseen, out of options. Maybe you’re struggling with something too personal to speak aloud, too painful to bring into the light.

Friend, reach out anyway.
Jesus sees. Jesus knows. Jesus responds.

Come not with polished perfection, but with faith that believes:

“He can heal me. He can make me whole.”

And He will.