Moving From Hiding to Healing
In our modern world, we often hear complaints about personal space being invaded. “She got too close—I didn’t like how she invaded my space,” someone might say. We’re fiercely protective of our boundaries, a mindset that intensified during the pandemic a few years ago when social distancing became a survival strategy. Even now, remnants of that caution linger in varying degrees. While there are healthy reasons to maintain a safe distance—protecting our well-being or respecting others’ comfort—this instinct can turn unhealthy, especially in our spiritual lives. When we apply the same guarded approach to our relationship with God, we risk isolating ourselves from the very source of healing and transformation.
Consider the story in Mark 5:28-30: “For she said, ‘If I touch even his garments, I will be made well.’ And immediately the flow of blood dried up, and she felt in her body that she was healed of her disease. And Jesus, perceiving in himself that power had gone out from him, immediately turned about in the crowd and said, ‘Who touched my garments?’” This woman, suffering from a chronic condition that made her unclean under Jewish law, had every reason to keep her distance. Yet in a bold act of faith, she pushed through the crowd to touch just the edge of Jesus’ clothing. Her desperation led her to risk closeness, and in that moment, healing flowed to her.
What’s fascinating here is the unique detail that Jesus felt “power had gone out from him.” This is the only recorded miracle in Jesus’ ministry—or anywhere in the Bible—where such a sensation is described. In other healings, there’s no mention of a noticeable surge of divine power transferring from Him to another. We don’t fully understand what this means, but it highlights something profound: true connection with Jesus involves an exchange, a tangible outflow of His life-giving presence that changes us from the inside out.
This closeness reflects the ultimate act of divine intimacy: Jesus took on flesh to dwell among us, bridging the infinite gap between heaven and earth. He came near, not just to teach or heal, but to die on the cross for our sins, tearing down the walls of separation caused by our rebellion. Through His sacrifice, we can enter a transformational love relationship with Him, experiencing His redeeming grace that heals our deepest wounds and restores us to fellowship with God.
God is infinitely worthy of our pursuit because He continually makes room for us, drawing near even when we hesitate. He invites us into intimacy, allowing us to experience His touch—a closeness that becomes the most life-altering encounter we could ever know. Yet, in our neediness, we often pull away. We confess that fear holds us back.
Because we’re afraid of vulnerability, of being truly seen, we hide. Sometimes it’s behind a polished social media facade, where we project an image rather than reveal our hearts. Other times, we use our biblical knowledge as a shield, impressing others with facts about God while keeping Him and others at arm’s length. Religious routines can become another hiding place—outward displays of devotion, like the Pharisees’ empty rituals, that mask a heart far from genuine connection.
God isn’t swayed by how much we know or how pious we appear; He’s after our hearts. He isn’t moved by our worship until we’re deeply moved by Him. When we’re truly close to God, that intimacy spills over: we draw near to fellow believers and even risk reaching out to those who don’t yet know Him. If that’s missing, it may signal religion without relationship—a form of godliness lacking the power of a living bond with Jesus.
Like Adam and Eve in the garden, sin drives us into hiding, widening the gap between us and God, and often between us and others. But God doesn’t leave us there; He pursues us with grace, urging us to run toward Him for restoration. Inspired by the woman’s faith, we can step out, reaching for Jesus despite the crowd of doubts or fears. His love draws us from the shadows, healing our sin and shame, restoring the joy of fellowship with Him and those around us. In this family of God, made possible by the cross, we experience His love tearing down barriers, uniting us as one. Empowered by the gospel, we extend that same love to those outside, inviting them into the transformative embrace of Christ’s redeeming work.
In that closeness, we experience a deep touch of His love and grace, transforming us into extensions of His reach to become His hands and feet that touch others with redeeming love. And just as power surged from Jesus in that miraculous moment, we can sense His transforming presence flowing through us when we embrace nearness to Him and to people. May we break through our self-imposed distances today, risking the touch that heals and empowers us to live as channels of His rescuing grace.
Consider the story in Mark 5:28-30: “For she said, ‘If I touch even his garments, I will be made well.’ And immediately the flow of blood dried up, and she felt in her body that she was healed of her disease. And Jesus, perceiving in himself that power had gone out from him, immediately turned about in the crowd and said, ‘Who touched my garments?’” This woman, suffering from a chronic condition that made her unclean under Jewish law, had every reason to keep her distance. Yet in a bold act of faith, she pushed through the crowd to touch just the edge of Jesus’ clothing. Her desperation led her to risk closeness, and in that moment, healing flowed to her.
What’s fascinating here is the unique detail that Jesus felt “power had gone out from him.” This is the only recorded miracle in Jesus’ ministry—or anywhere in the Bible—where such a sensation is described. In other healings, there’s no mention of a noticeable surge of divine power transferring from Him to another. We don’t fully understand what this means, but it highlights something profound: true connection with Jesus involves an exchange, a tangible outflow of His life-giving presence that changes us from the inside out.
This closeness reflects the ultimate act of divine intimacy: Jesus took on flesh to dwell among us, bridging the infinite gap between heaven and earth. He came near, not just to teach or heal, but to die on the cross for our sins, tearing down the walls of separation caused by our rebellion. Through His sacrifice, we can enter a transformational love relationship with Him, experiencing His redeeming grace that heals our deepest wounds and restores us to fellowship with God.
God is infinitely worthy of our pursuit because He continually makes room for us, drawing near even when we hesitate. He invites us into intimacy, allowing us to experience His touch—a closeness that becomes the most life-altering encounter we could ever know. Yet, in our neediness, we often pull away. We confess that fear holds us back.
Because we’re afraid of vulnerability, of being truly seen, we hide. Sometimes it’s behind a polished social media facade, where we project an image rather than reveal our hearts. Other times, we use our biblical knowledge as a shield, impressing others with facts about God while keeping Him and others at arm’s length. Religious routines can become another hiding place—outward displays of devotion, like the Pharisees’ empty rituals, that mask a heart far from genuine connection.
God isn’t swayed by how much we know or how pious we appear; He’s after our hearts. He isn’t moved by our worship until we’re deeply moved by Him. When we’re truly close to God, that intimacy spills over: we draw near to fellow believers and even risk reaching out to those who don’t yet know Him. If that’s missing, it may signal religion without relationship—a form of godliness lacking the power of a living bond with Jesus.
Like Adam and Eve in the garden, sin drives us into hiding, widening the gap between us and God, and often between us and others. But God doesn’t leave us there; He pursues us with grace, urging us to run toward Him for restoration. Inspired by the woman’s faith, we can step out, reaching for Jesus despite the crowd of doubts or fears. His love draws us from the shadows, healing our sin and shame, restoring the joy of fellowship with Him and those around us. In this family of God, made possible by the cross, we experience His love tearing down barriers, uniting us as one. Empowered by the gospel, we extend that same love to those outside, inviting them into the transformative embrace of Christ’s redeeming work.
In that closeness, we experience a deep touch of His love and grace, transforming us into extensions of His reach to become His hands and feet that touch others with redeeming love. And just as power surged from Jesus in that miraculous moment, we can sense His transforming presence flowing through us when we embrace nearness to Him and to people. May we break through our self-imposed distances today, risking the touch that heals and empowers us to live as channels of His rescuing grace.