Faith Healing in Iroquois County: Connecting With Jesus

From the sermon preached on July 26, 2026

Faith healing is not a phrase most people trust anymore, especially if church has felt like a place where you show up, sit close, and still leave feeling just as far from God as when you walked in. This post is about the difference between being near Jesus and actually connecting with him, and about what happens in the space between the two. If you have ever wondered whether real faith healing and transformation are even meant for someone like you, the story of a woman in Luke 8 says they are, and it starts with a single, desperate touch.

Maybe you grew up around church, or you still show up most weeks, but somewhere along the way the distance between knowing about God and actually knowing him started to feel permanent. You would say you are fine if anyone asked. Underneath that, there is a real question worth naming honestly: is it too late, or are you too far gone, for anything about that to change.

For twelve years, a woman in Luke 8:42-48 lived outside the edges of ordinary life; her bleeding made her ceremonially unclean, meaning she was not even supposed to be in that crowd. But being near Jesus was never going to be enough for her. She needed something more than proximity; she needed to actually touch him.

That distinction matters for connecting with Jesus personally now as much as it did then. A lot of people have spent years close to church without ever really connecting with Jesus in a way that changes anything underneath the surface, sitting in a pew and knowing the songs while still feeling like they are watching their own faith from a distance. Connecting with Jesus personally is not about location or attendance; it is about reaching out even when you feel unqualified, unclean, or unsure you will be welcomed.

The woman in this story did not wait until she felt worthy. She reached anyway, and that reaching (not her record, her reputation, or her readiness) is what put her in contact with real power. For anyone who has quietly wondered if they are too far gone, too tired, or too skeptical for that kind of moment, her story says the reaching itself is allowed.

If you have been circling the edges of faith for a while, try naming one honest question you have never said out loud to anyone at church, even just to yourself, today.

Right before the woman touched Jesus' cloak, scripture says the crowd was almost crushing him, with people jostling and pressing against him from every direction. Yet Jesus stopped and asked who had touched him, because he recognized that power had gone out from him in a way that was different from the crowd's constant contact. That distinction is at the center of receiving Holy Spirit power: proximity to something sacred is not the same as drawing on it.

A missionary once described meeting a husband and father overseas whose entire family came to faith together, and rather than the familiar language of accepting or inviting Jesus into his heart, the man said his family had grabbed hold of Jesus. It was a phrase that carried real weight, because he understood there was a cost to what he was doing. That kind of language points to receiving Holy Spirit power as something active, not passive, something you reach for rather than something that simply happens to you.

Many people feel tired, drained, or emotionally worn down after a long stretch of hard weeks, and in that state, receiving Holy Spirit power can sound like one more thing they do not have energy for. But the promise in scripture is not that strength has to come first. It is that power is available in the reaching, the same way it was available to a woman who had nothing left to offer but her faith.

Before you close this tab, name one place in your week where you feel most drained, and ask honestly whether you have ever brought that exact place to God.

After the woman touched Jesus and felt her bleeding stop, she could have slipped back into the crowd unnoticed. Instead, when Jesus asked who had touched him, she came trembling and told the whole truth in front of everyone. That moment is where bold faith in Jesus actually gets tested, not in the reaching, but in what happens after you have already received something real.

It would have been easier, and safer, for her to stay quiet. Many people who have experienced something true from God still hold back from offering their own Christian testimony out loud, not always out of humility, but sometimes because naming it plainly feels too exposed. Bold faith in Jesus asks a harder question than whether you believe: whether you are willing to let a real Christian testimony cost you something to speak.

The apostle Paul modeled a version of this same bold faith in Jesus when he wrote about pleading three separate times for a hardship to be removed, only to be told that God's power is made perfect in weakness. He did not get the answer he asked for, yet his response was to keep pressing toward Christ rather than away from him. That is the shift from simply being close to actually abiding: choosing to stay in contact with God even when the outcome is not what you hoped for.

This week, tell one person, plainly and without over-explaining, about a single true thing God has done in your life, even if it feels small.

The account of the woman with the issue of blood in Luke 8:42-48 lays out a pattern that shows up again and again in scripture: closeness to Jesus is a starting point, not a finish line. The table below traces that pattern across a few of the passage's key contrasts.

Hebrews 11:6 says it is impossible to please God without faith, and this passage in Luke shows what that faith looks like in practice: not perfect, not composed, just willing to reach.

If you have spent years knowing how to act like everything is fine while quietly carrying something you have never said out loud, you are not the only one carrying it. Whether you call Ashkum, Goodland, or Watseka home, or farm ground anywhere between Milford and Cissna Park out toward Danforth or Gilman, that same quiet distance shows up across Iroquois County and Newton County alike. Wherever you are starting from, there is a place here for the honest version of your faith, not the performed one.

The woman in Luke 8 did not wait to feel ready before she reached for Jesus, and what she received became her own Christian testimony, a story worth telling in front of everyone. Faith healing was never about being close enough to watch from a distance; it was always about reaching until something actually changed. That same reach, and that same kind of honest Christian testimony, is still available to anyone willing to stop settling for near.

You are welcome to plan your visit here at any of Trinity's three campuses (Ashkum, Goodland, or Watseka). There is no dress code and no expectation that you will have it all figured out before you show up.