There is an account found in three out of the four gospels. It is the story of a woman who endured a discharge of blood for twelve years. One thing we must understand is that a condition such as this rendered the woman “unclean.” She would have been a lonely woman, devoid of touch or much companionship at all.

Come with me for a moment and imagine….

You are this woman.

You cannot touch others, and others cannot touch you. You’re outcasted. Desperate, you spend all your financial resources going to doctors. One after another. But they’re no help. Instead of seeing improvement, you only worsen.

Can you relate to this woman in any way?

Quite possibly, in some area of your life, you need help. You seek help––help that promises a solution to your problem––only to find yourself right where you began, or perhaps even behind a step or two.

Another solution is presented to you.

You find enough hope to take that step. You join another program or see another doctor which will hopefully lead you toward health, wholeness, satisfaction (whatever it is for you). But a few months later, you’re, once again, right where you began.

But then there’s news of this guy. He sounds pretty awesome. Perhaps He can help me, you think. There’s talk around your village that He’s passing through.

If only, you think.

If only you could see Him. Touch Him.

No. Your hope is greater than that.

This guy, some say, is the One. If only you could touch the edge of His garment. Then. Perhaps then, you would be healed. You would be free of this burden weighing heavy upon your shoulders.

You go out and see Him pass by.

Hope fills your heart like never before, and you know. All you need is Him.

But there’s a crowd. A large one, pressing in all around. How will you ever manage to get through?

You’ll have to press in all the more.

But along the way, you touch others––making them unclean––as you strive to reach your goal. And then, you’re there.

You see Him.

Reach out.

And touch the edge, just the edge, of His garment.

In an instant, you know. You’ve been healed. You feel it, and you’re filled with joy and relief.

But then, the Man turns around. “Who was it that touched me?” the man asks.

“It wasn’t me,” you join the crowd in saying.

“Master, the crowds surround you and are pressing in on you.” A men explains.

“Someone touched me, for I perceive that power has gone out from me.”

Knowing you won’t be hidden for long, you come forward. Trembling and falling down before Him, you explain your condition and tell of your healing. You’re afraid, for you have just done what ought not to be done. You touched others. But ultimately, you touched Him.

You look up, anticipating rebuke, but are met with compassion instead. ”Your faith has made you well; go in peace,” He says.

…

Oftentimes, we fail to see Jesus as the answer. But ultimately, it’s not what He can do for us that we need most. We seek Him for our needs, and He invites us to do so, but ultimately we are most in need of His presence. We need Him. It was His presence that made this woman well.

Coming to Jesus doesn’t mean He will heal all our diseases. It doesn’t mean our lives will become easy. Sometimes, by His providence, He allows certain conditions to remain. But coming to Jesus––into His presence––daily does mean we will be right where we ought to be. And from this place, all other things fall into place.

When coming to Jesus, you must be aware, however, that there will be hinderances, but my question to you today is this: Will you press through to get into the presence of God?

If you do, you will find yourself right where you ought to be.

{Press through. Jesus is your only hope. Your only salvation.}

What’s hindering you from coming into the presence of God today? Share in the comments.

To read more about my journey toward forgiveness, read Freedom Through Grace or {Redemption} Your Testimony May Have Saved a Life.