“She had heard the reports about Jesus and came up behind him in the crowd and touched his garment. 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.” (Mark 5:27–29, ESV)

There are parts of my homeschooling years that feel warm and close when I think about them—sitting at the table, papers scattered, listening to my kids turn their thoughts into words. I loved that. It felt like getting a glimpse into their little hearts.

But grammar lessons? I can still feel my resistance even now. All those definitions… especially verbs. Action words. I didn’t want to define them—I just wanted to live them.

And maybe that’s why this story settles so deeply into me now.

Because her faith wasn’t theoretical. It wasn’t polished or perfect. It was personal. Quiet. Desperate, even.

She heard… and something in her heart whispered, What if it’s true? What if He really can heal me?

I know that feeling.
That quiet, fragile hope you almost don’t want to say out loud.

She came.
Not boldly. Not with attention. Just… inching her way through the crowd, carrying everything—her pain, her past, her longing.

I’ve had moments like that too. Where coming to Jesus didn’t look strong or put-together. It looked like showing up tired… unsure… but still coming.

She touched.
Just the edge of His garment. Not even His hand.

And I wonder if her hand trembled like mine sometimes does—when I reach for God in the middle of doubt, or weariness, or silence.

And then she spoke.
Not loudly. Not for anyone else. Just to herself: “If I can just touch Him…”

That part undoes me a little.

Because I’ve had those quiet prayers too. The ones I barely whisper. The ones that feel too small or too uncertain to count.

If You’re really there…
If You still see me…
If You can still meet me here…

And Jesus didn’t ignore her.

In the middle of a pressing, noisy crowd—He responded to her. To one small, trembling act of faith.

That tells me something I need to remember:
He is not overwhelmed by the crowd.
He is not distracted by louder voices.
He notices the quiet reach.

He notices mine. He notices yours.

Lately, I’ve been realizing that my faith doesn’t have to be loud or impressive. It just has to be real. It just has to move—even if it’s only one small step.

Opening my Bible when I don’t feel anything.
Whispering a prayer when words are hard to find.
Choosing to trust Him in one area I’ve been holding tightly.

Just… reaching.

And somehow, that’s enough.

Because the power was never in her strength.
It was in who she reached for.

So today, I’m letting this be simple.

Not striving. Not performing.
Just coming close… and reaching again.

Because even now, even here—
I believe He still responds to the smallest touch.

Additional Resources

The Blueprint for Life study is designed to help you discover the life you were born to live!  The study contains a workbook and ten audio messages featuring Andy Stanley, Louie Giglio, Tony Evans, John Maxwell and others. Now available for digital download.  CLICK HERE to check it out!