Twelve years is a long time. Twelve years ago today, the number one movie in the world was Avatar. Our family had a two-year-old in it. Wikileaks had just dumped thousands of documents onto the internet. A lot can happen in twelve years.

But then again, nothing can happen in twelve years. That’s what it was like, I imagine, for the woman mentioned in Luke 8. She had been “subject to bleeding” for those years. It was a medical condition that had no doubt caused her great pain and shame, ostracizing her from a community who considered her unclean. Now I’m sure it wasn’t like that at the beginning. Verse 43 tells us that there had been attempts to help her. To heal her. But all had failed, and this woman had eventually been pushed to the side. She had been forgotten, relegated to just another part of the landscape, fading into the background.

What a terrible thing to be forgotten. In some ways, being forgotten is worse than being hated, because being forgotten means you are insignificant. At least hatred is a recognition of some kind of importance, even if that importance comes with revulsion. But when you are forgotten, you are considered to be of such little value that you are irrelevant. You are not worth remembering.

So this woman had lived in the shadows of forgetfulness for those twelve years, away from any sort of recognition. And she had settled into it. The account leads us to believe that she had accepted her position of irrelevance and even on that day was hoping for as little attention as possible. So instead of falling before Jesus, she snuck up in the throngs of people surrounding Him and reached out a trembling hand to touch the edge of his cloak. And then the miraculous happened: her bleeding stopped:

“Who touched me?” Jesus asked.

When they all denied it, Peter said, “Master, the people are crowding and pressing against you.”

But Jesus said, “Someone touched me; I know that power has gone out from me.”

Then the woman, seeing that she could not go unnoticed, came trembling and fell at his feet. In the presence of all the people, she told why she had touched him and how she had been instantly healed. Then he said to her, “Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace” (Luke 8:45-48).

There was an enormous crowd of people, all pressing in on Jesus. No doubt he was being touched by scores of hands. And yet there was this one woman who was healed.

It reminds me of another scene when there was a crowd so large that one man had to climb a tree just to get a glimpse of Jesus. And Jesus turned his attention to that man, among all the others, and said, ““Zacchaeus, come down immediately. I must stay at your house today” (Luke 19:5).

Or another story, this one that Jesus told, about a shepherd who left the vast remainder of his flock to go and seek out the one single sheep that was lost (Luke 15:3-7).

And perhaps even today you might add your own story to this mix. You might have fallen through the cracks. The kids don’t call often. The relationships have dwindled. The only company you have is gazing into the lives of acquaintances on social media. And you feel it, too – that longing to be known. To be seen. To simply be remembered. And perhaps this morning you can take heart from this story of a woman who had pushed to the fringes.

What does the gospel say to those that feel forgotten?

It says that Jesus will come for you. Though no one else remembers, He does. He sees. He regards. He loves. Take heart, then, and know that Jesus loves to spend time on the fringes and check the nooks and crannies. And those he finds there he is pleased to make his brothers and sisters.