I’ve had this patch of internet space reserved for quite some time now. There have been a number of excuses as to why I haven’t started publishing to it, but those have fallen by the wayside, and it’s time for the “Come to Jesus” moment.
27 She had heard the reports about Jesus and came up behind him in the crowd and touched his garment. 28 For she said, “If I touch even his garments, I will be made well.” 29 And immediately the flow of blood dried up, and she felt in her body that she was healed of her disease.30 And Jesus, perceiving in himself that power had gone out from him, immediately turned about in the crowd and said, “Who touched my garments?” 31 And his disciples said to him, “You see the crowd pressing around you, and yet you say, ‘Who touched me?’” 32 And he looked around to see who had done it. 33 But the woman, knowing what had happened to her, came in fear and trembling and fell down before him and told him the whole truth.
This passage has spoken to me on different levels at different times throughout my life; most specifically during times when I’ve struggled with my mental health.
I’ve been in a raging battle against my own mind for years, and I haven’t sought help until recent years.
Through periods of debilitating depression, smothering anxiety, and unpredictable panic attacks, I’ve been robbed of a life of joy.
This last depressive episode pushed me to a point I haven’t been before. It pushed me to a point of determination and reaching. I’ve prayed for healing from this disease of the mind. I’ve fasted over it. I’ve had friends who have offered up prayers. I have seen the miraculous healing power that God can offer, but not for this.
This last episode made me truly want to push toward change.
So here I am, shoving my way through the crowded space in my mind, reaching out to the one who can truly help me. But do you know what else I have to do?
I have to tell Him the “whole truth.”
That’s the part of the story that gets overlooked. She told him the whole truth. It wasn’t just an “Oh, Jesus, I touched your robe,” It was an “Oh Jesus! I have suffered from this affliction. It has ruined my life. I needed relief from it, and I heard you could give it. I’m sorry for trying to sneak in and see if I could be healed just by touching your robe. I’m sorry for thinking that you would be like every other man who wouldn’t allow me to touch them because they thought I would make them unclean, but I felt something in my body shift when I touched you. I believe that you are the Healer, the Messiah.”
Of course this part isn’t recorded in the Bible. It’s just Fatima’s commentary.
Jesus then told her that her “faith had made her well,” and that she could “go in peace” for her “suffering is over.”
So welcome to my journey of telling the whole truth. I’ll candidly share about my experience with mental illness and my pursuit of God it has led me to. I will write a post every day for the next 30 days, and I hope you’ll grab a fuzzy blanket, pause Netflix, and spend a few minutes with me each night.
I’ll see you back here tomorrow!