I could really use a moment walking amidst the throngs following Jesus where I could see Him working…like really see Him working. I could use a chance to speak to Him – literally – or to watch Him heal. Or I could use a chance to touch His robe in faith.
In days, weeks, months, and years of waiting for change, begging for a different path, and praying for reconciliation of some sort, I find myself on the cusp of the ultimate confrontation. And, while I trust in the Lord to provide and protect, there are moments when I could use the chance to have a “real” encounter with Jesus. In the waiting and begging and praying – and in the conflict, critique, and attack – I have sought to be faithfully focused on God’s truth. I’ve fought to keep my eyes, my mind, and my heart singularly focused on the One. And, most days, that’s worked.
But, if I’m honest, there are days – and really more nights…like late at night, wide awake when the world sleeps, sort of nights – when worry, doubt, and outright panic takes over. It is at night when my faith can start to fail and I fall prey to the words of the world telling me I’m not enough, it won’t work out, the kids will never thrive, and I’m naive to think this will all work for any good. Those are the nights when loneliness sets in and it is hard to fall back asleep filled with feelings of desperation and sadness.
Recently, during one of those wee-hours nights, I found myself thinking of the woman in the book of Luke who’d bled for years. I found the story and read it again, for probably the 100th time in my life. And it took on new meaning. Luke 8:43 tells us that this woman – in a society where she was the lowest of priorities – had been hemoraging for twelve years and had spent “all her living on physicians.” She was desperate because we later read, “she could not be healed by anyone.” She’d found the end of earthly resources and was at her absolute end. She had to have clawed her way to Jesus because Luke 8:42 says the people were “pressed around Him…”
In her desperation – her sweet, heartbreaking desperation – all she wanted was to touch the hem of His robe. That’s all she needed. Not the face to face, “explain all that I don’t understand encounter” I daydream about. Not even a face to face miracle. She knew she just needed to touch the hem of His garment – the part scrapping the dusty ground. The dirty part of His clothing. She just wanted to touch part of Him. And, so she did. With all she had left, she pushed through the crowd, and managed to touch His robe. And that seemingly small act of faith turned out to be not so small after all.
In our world today, I get it that we don’t get to live with Jesus in the flesh. My mind understands that and most of the time my heart goes along. But, in the long time of waiting for things to resolve, my heart sometimes has to be brought along a bit. Because my heart wants – and seems to need – something tactile. A tidbit I can feel or see or hear audibly. I want to believe – I really do believe. But in the darkest of hours, my heart begs for more. Lord, I just want a robe to touch. I just need the bottom hem of your clothing to know you’re there.
It kind of makes me think of when my kids are sick and we are at the doctor’s office. I’m there. They know that. But, more than their growing up selves would like to admit, they instinctively reach for my hand. Why do they do that? Reassurance. They want to triple check one last time that their eyes and ears aren’t deceiving them and that I’m really there. And that is what I find myself longing for in Jesus at this season. If I can’t have a hand, I’ll take the hem of a robe. My faith is solid, but I’m human and I need that reassurance from time to time.
Last week, the kids and I were riding along and my iPhone pulled up an oldie from my 20’s on my playlist. I’ve had the same iTunes account for as long as those have existed, so it isn’t uncommon for my favorites from my 20’s to resurface. Such was the case last week. “Love Alone” by Caedmons Call has been one of my absolute favorite songs for at least twenty years. And, life at this moment made it more relevant than ever. I found myself holding back tears at a red light as the lyrics “…so swing your robe down low…” played.
Almost as a validation of my middle-of-the-night-feelings, I sat back and soaked it in anew with the comparison of deep, abiding faith and struggle that is equally deep. And the desire to hide it all (“No one would love me if they knew, all the things I hide…”). There is a reason this is one of my all time favs. (I’m technologically challenged and can’t figure out how to get only this song to play. The link embedded below is the entire album -insert face palm emoji – but if you keep advancing you’ll get to Love Alone…I promise it is worth it).
Lyrics below:
“Love Alone” by Caedmons Call
No one would love me
If they knew all the things I hide
My words fall to the floor
As tears drip through the telephone line
And the hands I’ve seen raised to the sky
Not waving but drowning all this time
I’ll try to build an ark that they need
To float to you upon the crystal sea
*Give me your hand to hold
‘Cause I can’t stand to love alone
And love alone is not enough to hold us up
We’ve got to touch your robeSo swing your robe down low
Swing your robe down low
The prince of despair’s been beaten
But the loser still fights
Death’s on a long leash
Stealing my friends to the night
And everyone cries for the innocent
You say to love the guilty too
And I’m surrounded by suffering and sickness
So I’m working tearing back the roof
*Give me your hand to hold
‘Cause I can’t stand to love alone
And love alone is not enough to hold us up
We’ve got to touch your robeSo swing your robe down low
Swing your robe down low
And the pain of the world is a burden
And it’s my cross to bear
And I stumble under all the weight
I know you’re Simon standing there
And I know you’re standing there
