Sandra Heska King

daring to open doors

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Dare to Touch the Fringe (A Repost)

February 23, 2012 By Sandra Heska King

But for you who fear my name, the sun of righteousness will rise with healing in its wings; and you will go forth and skip about like calves from the stall. ~Malachi 4:2 (NASB)

We gather around the table.

The new widow.

The exhausted young mom.

The heart-broken grandma.

The financially stressed and the health shattered.

Light seekers, hope clingers, and tassel touchers.

And we talk about her (Luke 8:43-48 NASB.)

Bleeding from body and heart.

For years.

Unclean.

Woman.

A physician’s failure.

She was emotionally, spiritually, physically, and financially broken.

Clinging to her last shred of hope, she jostled her way through the crowd that pressed around Him.

She hid her face and prayed the stench of her issue would go unnoticed.

Her eyes glued to the swaying target and, hand splayed, she felt searing pain in her arm and shoulder as she stretched.

Reaching.

Reaching.

With one last lunge her fingers fastened around the corner (wing) tassel (Numbers 15:38-41 NASB) that hung from His cloak.

One of four containing a blue thread that reminded Him of His responsibility to fulfill God’s commandments.

That revealed His commitment to walk in the law.

The same law He had come to fulfill.

She who lived on the fringe had dared to touch the fringe.

Of . . . the Messiah?

She felt a fire kindle deep inside.

Warmth flooded her body.

And.

He.

Stopped.

She gasped, released her hold, and shrank back.

“Who is the one who touched me?”

He noticed.

The wounded one in the throng who risked to reach.

Who touched not Him but His garment.

Same thing.

“Not me.”

“Not me.”

Everyone denied it, though they had all churned against Him.

“Yes. Someone clung to me. I felt power flow from me.”

She’d been found out, and she nearly fainted.

Trembling, she stumbled back through the crowd and threw herself at His feet.

She told Him her story in front of everyone.

And He called her “daughter.”

Accepted.

Protected.

Beloved.

Healed by faith.

Saved from suffering.

To walk in peace.

********************

We get sick.

Loved ones die.

Hurt wrecks families.

Life tsunamis wash away money and possessions.

Words shatter hearts.

But in the midst of our sufferings, we can reach for Him.

Stretch out to grasp the tassel, to touch just the corner of His garment.

He knows the one.

And though healing may not come in our way or our time, we can walk in His peace.

In the shelter of His wing.

For you have been my help, and in the shadow of your wings, I sing for joy. ~Psalm 63:7 (NASB)

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Comments

  1. Maureen says

    February 23, 2012 at 10:09 pm

    Good to remember, a touch is enough. And for another mom, crumbs were enough. Powerful words.

  2. S. Etole says

    February 23, 2012 at 11:44 pm

    We both shared the same Psalm today! And yes, He knows … each uniquely His.

  3. Patricia says

    February 24, 2012 at 9:00 am

    life giving touch…
    bless you, Sandy.

  4. Lynn Mosher says

    February 24, 2012 at 10:56 am

    Oh, how I love this! I don’t know how I missed it the first time around. I’m so glad I got to read it this time! Most people do not realize that Jesus wore a tallit (prayer shawl). This is one of my most favorite topics. So glad you replayed this!

  5. diana says

    February 24, 2012 at 11:10 am

    Oh, Sandy. Thank you so much for re-posting this beautiful, heartfelt reflection. Only a touch – but we sometimes have to reach to make it.

  6. kd sullivan says

    February 26, 2012 at 9:05 am

    I love how you’ve found a woman with the issue of blood in all of us…you are gift. Thank you for joining us at Painting Prose.

  7. Cecilia Marie Pulliam says

    February 26, 2012 at 9:30 pm

    He will heal us, maybe not the way we expect, but He will heal. We only to trust, and believe as the woman in scripture did. Beautifully written, Sandy.

  8. Monica Sharman says

    October 21, 2012 at 4:07 pm

    So powerful, Sandy. The self-consciousness of the stench caught my attention…

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Talking with D about his grandfather. One of the f Talking with D about his grandfather. One of the farmhands said Grandpa King was one of the toughest men he ever knew. In the dead of a Michigan winter, he wore a baseball cap instead of a knit hat. In April through October he never wore a shirt.
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Once he was raking hay and while trying to get the rake in gear, he fell against the tractor fender. He finished raking hay. Then for the next two days, he rode on a combine bagging oats, bouncing and breathing in dust and lifting bags. After 3 days, he said, “I don’t feel very good. I’m gonna go to the doctor snd see what’s wrong.” He had two or three broken ribs, a punctured lung, and pneumonia.
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D said he only saw him tear up three times.
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1. When his 19-year-old grandson died from a heart condition.
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2. When D said, “ Goodbye Grandpa. I’ll see you in the spring.” ( D was maybe 11 or 12. ) Grandpa was on his way to FL for the winter and knew he probably wouldn’t be back. He died about a month later.
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3. When he talked about the fact that the hotels in FL would not let black baseball players stay there. That was in the 50s.
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Also no flowers or cards. 

Just this. And her name shall be called... drum roll...

We loved all the suggestions. But we also wanted to keep the love connection--and I wanted to let D finally get to choose a name for our 13th (if I've remembered all of them) cat. The rescue named her Valentine, so since she's the only Valentine either of us are getting today, we decided to keep that name--but as a middle name. D has been calling her "Lucy Vallie."

Lucy--for Lucille Ball (I Love Lucy) and her mischief and troublemaking. We've already seen signs of mischief in the shattered antique bottle we'd discovered next to our farmhouse in Michigan. It sat on the windowsill over the bathtub--silly me in having neglected to totally cat-proof--and in the missing top to my contact lens case--that D finally found next to the litter box. 

Also, there's the light-shedding Luci Shaw... whose poetry I love. 

And Lucy Pevensie from the Chronicles of Narnia who superly loved Aslan.

So now we have Lucy the Goose and Lucy Valentine whom we already love and expect lots of love and light and laughs from. And probably lots of mischief. She also has trouble staying still long enough for pictures.

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Also, my FB memories told me I canceled PT for something (I can't even remember what) 11 years ago this day. I took both cheers and jeers for that in the comments. 😂
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It’s Inauguration Morning. Prayers for the incoming and the outgoing. Prayers for all of us because we are all exhausted. Prayers for peace and patience and safety and wisdom and more compassion and more kindness and more love and unity. And, please Lord, no more virus.
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