Risk - still thinking about risk.

Last night I was reminded of the woman who had the issue of blood again.

As I reflected on her story, I could taste the dust of the streets and feel the shoving of the crowd as they pressed towards a man with eyes that were tired, yet intensely alive. Sandals slapping on the dirt. Smells of market and animals and food and sweat and refuse. Shouting and laughing and scolding and high children's voices. The rumble of men in conversation and the creaking of wagon wheels. Hot dry air. Beggars crying out.

Risk.

Flip the page. Is the church in Cape Town that woman? That woman/daughter/wife/mother/grandmother/child who has hidden away for the last twelve years? Safe in her house, yet bleeding? Separated from people?

I am wrestling with how often I (the church) retreat to my (our) safe spaces. To my (our) quiet places of order.

Healing was not found in the quiet order of this woman's home. She found Jesus on the noisy, smelly, pushing, changing, turbulent, emotional streets. And seeing Him, had to push into that living swirling mass of life to get close enough to actually touch Him.

#whotouchedme
#risk
#healing
#thechurchisabride

<Are we bleeding in our safe spaces while our healer and lover is walking past on the street outside? Maybe?>

#engagelifeengagepeople

Take the risk!

An Easter service that included the woman who had an issue of blood (for years). That meant the "red tent" and being unclean and feeling miserable and sick and weak and hopeless. That time of month that became that time of year/s. 

Why add the woman into the Easter story? 

Because she took a risk. 

And because He took a risk. 

She took the risk (despite her uncleanness/unworthiness/despair) of following Him through a crowd. 
She stretched out her hand. 

< And there it was! HOPE! Boom! >

He risked everything to stretch out His arms. 
To shout "I love you" 
Through gritted teeth and gasps of breath leaking from His side.
To absorb the shame of nakedness
The pain of lashings
The whips of words "If you are who you say you are..."

And she touched His garment. 

And He died. 

And she was healed. 

I've never heard her name. But she took a risk to live again. To hope. 

< The things we hope for come from the deep longings of our hearts. >

And hope does not disappoint us for God has poured out His love into the human heart. Romans 5.