“If I can just touch his clothes,” she thinks, “I will be healed.” (Mark 5:28 NCV).
Risky decision. To touch him, she will have to touch the people. If one of them recognizes her … hello rebuke, good-bye cure. But what choice does she have? She has no money, no clout, no friends, no solutions. All she has is a crazy hunch that Jesus can help and a high hope that he will.
Maybe that’s all you have: a crazy hunch and a high hope. You have nothing to give. But you are hurting. And all you have to offer him is your hurt.
Maybe that has kept you from coming to God. Oh, you’ve taken a step or two in his direction. But then you saw the other people around him. They seemed so clean, so neat, so trim and fit in their faith. And when you saw them, they blocked your view of him. So you stepped back.
If that describes you, note carefully, only one person was commended that day for having faith. It wasn’t a wealthy giver. It wasn’t a loyal follower. It wasn’t an acclaimed teacher. It was a shame-struck, penniless outcast who clutched onto her hunch that he could and her hope that he would.
Which, by the way, isn’t a bad definition of faith: A conviction that he can and a hope that he will. Sounds similar to the definition of faith given by the Bible. “Without faith no one can please God. Anyone who comes to God must believe that he is real and that he rewards those who truly want to find him” (Heb. 11:6 NCV).
Not too complicated is it? Faith is the belief that God is real and that God is good. Faith is not a mystical experience or a midnight vision or a voice in the forest … it is a choice to believe that the one who made it all hasn’t left it all and that he still sends light into shadows and responds to gestures of faith.
There was no assurance, of course. She hoped he’d respond … she longed for it … but she didn’t know if he would. All she knew was that he was there and that he was good. That’s faith.
Faith is not the belief that God will do what you want. Faith is the belief that God will do what is right.
Today’s devotional is drawn from Max Lucado’s Second Chances.