He said to her, “Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace and be freed from your suffering.”— Mark 5:34 (NIV)

I didn’t know how to respond. My friend had kindly offered to prepare a meal for us to share. But recent health issues have caused me to follow a special diet. Not wanting to impose my food restrictions on her, I considered declining her invitation.  

I’ve always hated feeling needy. Asking people for help almost always means putting them out in some way. Deep down I don’t feel worthy of disrupting other people’s lives so that my needs can be met.

This is why I love the story of a woman in the New Testament. Like me, she struggled with feeling unworthy. The Bible never reveals her name: we only know her as the bleeding woman. Biblical scholars believe she suffered from menorrhagia, or excessive menstrual discharge. 

The law of Moses required menstruating women to quarantine themselves. In addition, anyone who touched a menstruating woman had to bathe, wash their clothes, and isolate until evening (Leviticus 15:19-30). These laws may seem harsh to our Western worldview—we have advanced medical knowledge. But people of her time only knew of quarantine as a way to protect each other from blood-born diseases.

We find the bleeding woman’s story in Mark 5:21-34. It opens when Jairus, a synagogue ruler, approached Jesus and pleaded with Him to heal his dying daughter. Jesus left with him and a large crowd followed and pressed around Him.

At that moment the bleeding woman took a great risk. Hoping she could be healed by touching Jesus’ clothes, she pushed through the crowd and approached Him from behind. When she touched His cloak, she immediately felt healed. But everyone she touched, including Jesus, became unclean. 

I imagine this woman planned to slink back through the crowd without disrupting Jesus and His followers. But Jesus had other plans. When He realized power had gone out from Him, He stopped to look for her. The disciples expressed impatience and frustration—anyone in the crowd could have touched Him. But Jesus refused to move on. Finally the bleeding woman came forward and told Him the whole truth. Scripture tells us she was trembling with fear. 

In her place, I would fear the reaction of all the people who now had to bathe, wash their clothes, and quarantine themselves. I’d also worry about the consequences of taking Jesus’ power without asking. And I’d feel guilty for keeping Jesus from healing Jairus’ daughter. 

In situations like these, it’s easy to feel like a disruption, a disappointment, or a distraction. But Jesus’ next words to her are full of grace and love:

He said to her, “Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace and be freed from your suffering.” (Mark 5:34 NIV)

Jesus healed many people and commended several people for their faith. But she is the only woman He ever called “Daughter”. He didn’t see her as a disruption; He saw her as a valuable daughter—someone worthy of His time and energy. 

Like the bleeding woman, sometimes the Lord places us in a position where we receive help from others. It’s His way of reminding us of our worth. So after my initial hesitation, I accepted my friend’s invitation. She cheerfully prepared a meal that met my dietary needs—making me feel both valued and loved. 

Dear Lord: Thank You for clarifying our identity as daughters. Help us remember that You never see us and our needs as a disruption. You choose to help us because of who we are—daughters who are valued and loved. We pray this in Your name. Amen.