Mark 1:29-45
Be Still: In this quiet moment, Lord, I look to you. Quiet my mind and calm my heart. Let your presence fill this space and your Spirit shape my thoughts. Amen
Read: Mark 1:29-45
Jesus was indignant. He reached out his hand and touched the man. 'I am willing,' he said. 'Be clean!' (v41)
Encounter: The Kingdom Brings Healing.
The man kneeling before Jesus has leprosy – a disease that hasn't just ravaged his body but removed him from human contact, worship, and community. His voice trembles with vulnerability: 'If you are willing…' He’s asking not just for healing, but for restoration – for someone to cross the invisible line that’s excluded him for so long.
Jesus doesn’t hesitate. Mark tells us, 'He was indignant.' Not angry at the man but stirred by the injustice of suffering turned into isolation. Then comes the radical response – he reached out and touched him. Before healing words are even spoken, healing begins through touch. That gesture defies purity laws, cultural fears, and the instinct to stay safe. It says, I see you and you matter. It creates connection and says I will not let you face this alone.
My wife and I saw echoes of this kind of healing presence during COVID, when compassion had to navigate restrictions. A couple close to us faced the heartbreak of miscarriage during lockdown. Their grief was overwhelming – and made heavier by the silence of separation. No visitors. No gatherings. Just quiet pain behind closed doors.
Both of us felt the weight of their loneliness and began offering what we could –meals, phone calls, texts, moments of presence without pressure. When regulations eased, we sat with them in the garden, letting the grief come as it needed to.
It wasn’t a solution. But it was proximity. Like Jesus’ touch, our presence didn’t erase past suffering, but it interrupted the isolation – and in that sacred space, healing could begin to breathe.
Apply: Many carry quiet pain. They might not ask aloud, 'Are you willing? – but that question lingers beneath the surface. This week, who might need you to come closer – not with answers, but with kindness? You may not know the right thing to say. That’s okay. Most healing begins with showing up.
Ask yourself: Where does love need to cross the line that fear or caution has drawn?
Devote: Jesus, make me willing to step near – and let my presence be a touch of your grace and healing.