Touch, Healing, and Nearness

“Then Jesus stretched out his hand, touched him, and said, ‘I do choose.’”

Earlier in this chapter, we see Jesus reveal his authority and invite others into a new way of life. Today, we see that authority draw near. Luke’s account of Jesus healing a man with leprosy reveals authority made personal through touch, healing, and nearness.

This story is brief, yet full of meaning. The man comes before Jesus with humility and trust: “If you choose…” He knows restoration is not something he can demand, only something he can receive. Jesus responds with words that are both powerful and personal: “I do choose.”

After the healing, Jesus instructs the man to remain quiet and let the work speak for itself. The miracle does not need explanation; it stands as testimony on its own. This invites us to consider our own lives. Where has the gospel brought healing that now shapes the way we go and obey? Perhaps part of our witness is found not in how loudly we speak, but in how faithfully we live as people who have been healed.

Yet the story does not remain with the man who was healed. Instead, Luke gently draws our eyes back to Jesus. Even as the crowds gather and the needs multiply, Jesus withdraws to deserted places to pray. This is not a pause in the story, but a revelation of his way of life. Though we do not meet Jesus face-to-face as this man did, we are invited to follow him into the same rhythm. During the wilderness season of Lent, we discover that healing is often found in withdrawal, where Jesus meets us in quiet and desolate places.

As you move through this day, consider both the healing you have received and the places where God invites you to be still. May your life reflect the One who chooses to heal you and calls you to follow in faithful witness. And may you find, in quiet and deserted places, the strength to go where he sends you.

Jesus, teach me to trust you with the work in me that I cannot bring about myself. As I withdraw to be with you, shape my heart, my life, and my witness. May your quiet work in me reflect your grace to the world. Amen.

LIBBY HUTCHINSON
Master of Theological Studies Student
Weatherford, Texas