Are You Brave Enough to Reach?

It was December when my husband and I strolled into the Mall of America. Every corridor was decked out in grand fashion.  Entering a few floors above ground level, we headed straight for the rotunda above the main stage to take it all in.  Enormous trees, thousands of twinkling lights, loud music and people, people, people.

Her Old Gringo boots and wavy auburn hair caught my attention immediately – in the center of it all stood The Pioneer Woman.  Slightly awestruck, I marveled at the throngs of women awaiting a chance to have Ree sign their copy of her latest cookbook.  The endless zig-zagging lines of giddy fans put Disneyland to shame.

My husband and I headed off to dinner at a restaurant tucked inside the mall that is really a city and I spent most of the meal explaining to him who Ree Drummond was and why so many women would be waiting in a ridiculous line to meet her.  I also informed him he was one of the few people on earth who didn’t know who The Pioneer Woman was.  Chances are that is not even really true, but honestly, everyone knows who Ree Drummond is, right?

Anyhow, shortly after dinner we decided to explore the mall a bit.  We made our way down to the main level and turned a corner when out walks Ree, right in front of us.  She was loosely surrounded by a team of people, security people, people with cheek mics who looked all business, probably hair and make-up experts – I don’t know what kind of people these famous ladies need – but she had half a dozen people and somehow we had walked right into the thick of it.

And here is where my play-it-cool heart went a little fan girl.

“Oh my gosh, that’s her!!!”  I told my husband.  Still not completely understanding why he should be excited, he entertained me just the same.  “So talk to her.”  He prods.  “Ask her for a picture or something.  Tell her you have a blog.”  That part made me giggle.  Remember?  I don’t always tell people I blog.

A million thoughts raced through my head.  Should I say hi?  Should I ask for a picture?  She had just spent the last few hours signing books and chatting amidst endless adoring fans – should I really ask for just one more smile, one more autograph, when I never even waited in line?  I wonder how many times she gets asked for just one more offering?

And so I didn’t.  I just watched her and her people briskly make their way to a small side door which I’m sure led to some underground tunnel for celebrities.

 

Last Sunday I was reminded of a slightly similar story in the gospels. We are told of this woman who was bleeding for 12 long years, a woman who had “suffered many things from many physicians”.  I don’t know exactly what that means but can you imagine?

Jesus was coming along the way, en route to visit Jairus’s daughter, who was near death.  He was busy.  He had important things to do.  And he was followed by a great multitude.  The Bible tells us they thronged Him.

But amidst all the hub bub of people, this bleeding woman said to herself “If only I may touch His garment, I shall be made well.”  And so she did.  From behind him, she reached out her hand and touched just the hem of his garment.  And immediately she was healed from her affliction.

I wonder how much courage it took for that woman to reach out? Jesus was busy, right?  He had adoring fans all about him.  I wonder if her hand was shaking?  I wonder if she stood there second guessing herself for a moment?  I can almost hear her mind racing, the battle she must have been fighting in her head.

He’s busy.  There is a girl dying who He needs to tend to.  What might others think if I squirrel my way in amongst the crowd.  Will anyone notice?  Will He notice? Do it.  Don’t do it.  Don’t bother Him.  But, what if?  What if?

Her courage, her faith, prevailed.  She stuck, what I can only imagine to be trembling fingers out and reached for him.  She grazed the hem of His garment and because of her faith she was immediately healed.

 

 

That was a faith established in the bleeding years.  She didn’t just make that up on demand.  Her faith was rooted deep, worn and tested through her years of trial.  She had a faith that overcame doubt and fear.  A faith that made her brave.  A faith, by which, she received a miracle.

Thinking back, I don’t know if I was really being honorable by not bugging Ree Drummond. Maybe it’s true that I didn’t want to bother her or maybe, I was just chicken.

But it was just Ree Drummond, right?

When He passes by, I don’t want to miss it.  When that alter call comes and I feel the tugging, I want to be brave enough to get out of my seat.  When I feel that pull on my heart to reach out to the broken and hurting, I don’t want to be too scared to walk into it.

It’s awkward at times, friends, and sometimes we’re left fumbling and stumbling and not really knowing how to respond in those moments, but I think it looks something like it did for the bleeding woman – hand shaking, scared to death, reaching.

I pray that we will be brave enough to reach.  I pray that the faith we build in the everyday, in the long and weary battles, will make us brave enough to reach out and touch his hem.  It is by that very faith that miracles really do happen.