The Bleeding Woman

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Without prayer, she still conversed with God, talking gently, asking forgiveness for the fact she despised life, expressing the wish never to have known birth, pleading for an exit, begging for mercy. Nothing more she desired than to not be. Death. It was not hate, rather defeat. She had lost her husband, righteously granted a divorce by the priest from the Tribe of Levi, the descendants of Aaron, brother to Moses. The officials of the Temple banned her from actively participating in the world of her upbringing. The sacred was closed to her. Her family shunned her, convinced she was a curse. None could touch her. She could touch none, and even more the things she touched became unclean, unworthy of others. Physicians who tried unsuccessfully to heal her wasted the moderate wealth her husband gave her in parting. Indigent and desperate beyond hope, she clung to the idea of being done with life as she parted from the life she had known.

Life as an exile started to change for Naomi when she began living on the shores of the Sea of Galilee, abiding in a shelter gifted to her by anglers, four fishermen from various families belonging also to the tribe of Benjamin. It was just a small one-room hut, a former place to stow fishing gear, yet it was perfect as it provided the isolation she desired. The men would leave her fish as well as figs, olives, herbs, fruits and vegetables. They had built a bigger shelter a short distance to the north.

The only visitor she enjoyed for a time was Susanna. Susanna, named in honor of the lily—her mother renowned for her love of flowers, was an old childhood friend who sought Naomi out after learning of her fate through gossip. As girls they were playmates, recognized as the best of friends, often decorating one another’s hair with lilies, as well as other flowers. Susanna would now come and tell stories to Naomi about her grandchildren. The stories brought tears to Naomi as it made her think about the grandchildren she had been banished from. Susanna told of her family so lovingly that Naomi understood she wanted her to share in life and the thought of children growing. She acted out of love, not malice. Susanna would come on the Sabbath, or the day after, coming during the evening, bringing something sweet to eat, honey, and plenty of smiles and good cheer to share.

It was during one of Susanna’s visits that Naomi learned about the healer Jesus, a new teacher of God Susanna called him. One of Susanna’s nephews, Bartholomew, was traveling with Jesus having become one of his chosen disciples. The nephew referred to the man as Rabbouni—teacher and master. Whispered words hinted Jesus was the Messiah. Susanna herself heard the man speak, and told of the enchantment his winged words possessed. ’More than a prophet’, she would say. Naomi was not sure what to make of the talk. Susanna even spoke of giving everything up and joining her nephew. She knew her nephew since he was born and she saw the change within the young man. She tried to speak of what she perceived surrounding her nephew and his Master, however she became frustrated with words, disappointed with her explanation, positive it did not embrace matters. She wanted to tell how the teacher’s voice sounded, yet she was lost for words. Her words were not winged. Susanna insisted that Naomi must search out this teacher.

“You must tell him of your affliction. He heals. Miracles blossom about him like flowers.”

“It is useless. I have tried everything. The verdict is final.”

“This man is something new. You must at least hear him speak.”

“Susanna I am feeling old. I am tired. This small hut has become enough for me. I watch the sea and the birds. It is enough. You are kind and your visits mean so much, but please do not bring false hope. The decree is done.”

“I want you to offer prayers. Consider what I say in your silence and solitude with God. Listen with your heart. He will speak the words I desire, yet cannot. Do not take my word. Take His. Listen in silence.”

Naomi did consider what Susanna mentioned. Her friend was a moderate person; a good wife, mother, and grandmother; moral in behavior and thought, always serious about her religion as her father and brothers were Pharisees, proper studying and highly educated in Scripture and the Mosaic Laws. She had to admit she had never seen her friend express herself in a manner such as she did regarding this teacher who healed. Others were speaking about the man also. One could not help, but hear reports of his wandering.

Susanna’s insistence made Naomi think. From a conventional woman came crazy talk. There were many false prophets and religious zealots wandering about. It was nothing new amidst the shores of the Galilee. Never had her friend become enamored with one. Naomi knew this. The women held firm to the proper throughout her life. Naomi considered the matter as she sat on a large rock with a natural declivity that produced a reclining seat of comfort. It was a favorite perch.

This beautiful day, enjoying sunshine and blue skies, Naomi stared out into the wonder of creation. She noticed the odd flight of a particular bird, its path winding around the blinding light of an undeviating sun. In a matter of seconds, the bird was hovering above her, flapping its wings as it held steady aloft seemingly desiring to alight. The brightness of the sun backlighting the bird blinded. An undefinable white dove of splendor it became. Observing the spectacular bird, an internal voice crystallized, vanquishing thought.

“Seek my son. Touch him. Be healed.”

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