Holiness in Holding On: When Healing Looks Different Than I Imagined.

Published on 1 October 2025 at 07:00

There’s a Holiness in Holding On: When Healing Looks Different Than I Imagined.

Some verses in Scripture feel like gentle whispers to our weary souls. Others strike like lightning, cutting through the fog of fear and uncertainty. Mark 5:34 is one of those verses that does both:

“Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace and be freed from your suffering.”

This moment between Jesus and the woman who had suffered twelve long years of bleeding is tender and transformative. It’s a story of faith that perseveres through disappointment, hope that refuses to die, and healing that looks far different than what she, or we - might expect.

As I’ve reflected on this passage, I’ve realised something profound: there is a holiness in holding on, even when healing doesn’t arrive the way I prayed for. Sometimes healing comes in surprising forms, unfolding in ways that reshape us rather than restore what was lost. And in that mystery, God meets us.

The Woman Who Reached Out.

Let’s pause in the middle of the story. Imagine her desperation: twelve years of unending pain, isolation, and stigma. In Jewish culture, her condition rendered her ceremonially unclean, cutting her off from worship and community. She had spent everything she had on physicians, and instead of getting better, she grew worse (Mark 5:26).

Still - she held on.

She held onto the faint possibility that Jesus could do for her what no one else could. She pressed through the crowd, whispering hope to herself: “If I just touch His clothes, I will be healed” (Mark 5:28).

And then, she reached.

This was no passive faith. This was courageous faith. Risking public shame, rejection, and the judgmental whispers of others, she stretched her hand toward the hem of His garment.

And in that small act of clinging - of holding on, she encountered the living God.

The Holiness of Holding On.

Her story confronts us with a truth we’d rather avoid: sometimes healing is a long road. Sometimes it doesn’t arrive instantly. Sometimes it doesn’t look the way we imagined.

And yet, there is holiness in holding on.

Holiness isn’t just about being “set apart” in a moral sense, it’s about leaning into God when everything in us wants to give up. Holiness shows up in the late-night prayers when no answer comes. It’s present in the tears cried in silence when no one else understands. It’s found in that fragile thread of hope that refuses to break, even when life keeps unravelling.

Holding on when healing delays - is itself an act of worship.

Because in the waiting, God isn’t absent. He’s shaping us. The waiting room becomes holy ground when we realise we’re not waiting alone.

When Healing Looks Different.

We often imagine healing as restoration: the disease cured, the relationship mended, the loss reversed, the brokenness undone. Sometimes God, in His mercy, does exactly that. But other times, healing comes in ways that defy our expectations.

  • Healing may come through strength to endure, not escape.
    Paul prayed three times for his thorn in the flesh to be removed, and God’s answer wasn’t deliverance but sufficient grace (2 Corinthians 12:9).
  • Healing may come through peace, not explanation.
    The woman in Mark 5 wasn’t just physically healed. Jesus gave her peace, affirming her identity as a beloved daughter. Sometimes the greater healing is the restoration of our sense of belonging in God.
  • Healing may come through presence, not resolution.
    In the valley of the shadow of death, Psalm 23 promises not the absence of danger but the presence of the Shepherd.

When healing doesn’t look the way we imagined, it’s tempting to assume God hasn’t heard us. But perhaps He is answering differently - offering something deeper, richer and more eternal than what we ever had in mind.

My Story of “Different” Healing.

I remember praying, often still do pray… fervently over my situation. So much so that felt like it was breaking me. I begged God for resolution, for a miracle, for restoration that never seemed to come. Instead, what came was a long season of waiting, silence, and uncertainty.

I can’t say I felt abandoned. Neither can I say my faith was weak, but, I can say I didn’t understand. I can also say, I wanted to know why! Why this, why now and why does it seem like it’s one thing after another? For a time – for years, there was no reprieve.

But slowly, I began to see something I had missed before: God was healing me, just not in the way I expected. He was strengthening my faith, teaching me to trust Him without conditions. He was stripping away illusions of control and anchoring me in His presence. He was drawing me closer, whispering into my soul, “You are still mine. You are still loved. Even here, even now.”

My circumstances are not yet resolved, not in the way I pray for, but my heart is transformed. And that, was the healing I didn’t know I needed.

Faith That Touches the Hem.

Faith doesn’t always roar with certainty. Sometimes it trembles, whispers, and clings. The woman who touched the hem of Jesus’ garment, her faith wasn’t polished or loud - it was fragile, desperate, and persistent.

That’s the faith that caught Jesus’ attention.

And when she did touch His cloak, power went out from Him (Mark 5:30). But notice what He says: “Daughter, your faith has healed you.” It wasn’t magic in the garment. It wasn’t a formula. It was her faith that moved her toward Jesus, even when hope seemed impossible.

This means that when we hold on - when we keep reaching toward Him, however falteringly - we are participating in that same holiness. Our faith, even in its weakness, is seen and honoured by Jesus.

Lessons for Our Own Journeys.

So what does this story mean for us today - when healing looks different than we imagined?

  1. Faith is not measured by immediate results.
    Just because the healing hasn’t come doesn’t mean your faith is lacking. Faith is measured by holding on.
  2. Healing begins in belonging.
    Before Jesus declared her freed from suffering, He called her “Daughter.” Her truest healing was identity before it was physical.
  3. God’s timing is never wasted.
    Twelve years of waiting wasn’t pointless. It positioned her for a divine encounter at just the right moment. Our seasons of waiting are never outside God’s redemptive plan.
  4. Peace is part of healing.
    Jesus didn’t just end her suffering - He gave her peace. Don’t overlook the quiet, inner healing that God may be working in your spirit.
  5. Your story of holding on matters.
    This woman’s faith has inspired countless generations. Your testimony, even in the midst of unanswered prayers, can encourage someone else to keep holding on. Share it with someone today.

A Holiness That Sustains.

Perhaps you find yourself in the middle of your own “twelve years.” Maybe you’re carrying prayers that feel unanswered, pain that won’t relent, or disappointment that weighs heavy.

Hear this: there is holiness in your holding on. God sees the faith it takes to get up one more day, to pray one more prayer, to believe one more time. He honours the courage it takes to keep reaching, even when the healing doesn’t look like what you expected.

Jesus doesn’t just heal circumstances. He heals identities. He heals hope. He heals peace.

And sometimes, the deepest healing isn’t the cure but the presence of the One who calls you “Daughter” or “Son.”

Conclusion: The Gift of Different Healing.

Mark 5:34 is not just a story of a woman long ago - it’s an invitation for us now. An invitation to keep reaching, keep believing, and keep trusting, even when healing comes in ways that surprise us.

Yes, sometimes God restores exactly what we asked for. But other times, He reshapes our hearts, redefines our hope, and reveals His nearness in our pain. That is healing, too.

So, let us hold on.
Let us embrace the holiness of faith that clings, even in uncertainty.
Let us trust that the Jesus who called her “Daughter” calls us His own, too.

And in that truth, we find peace. Amen.