A Journey Through Pain and Hope
In the Gospel of Mark, we encounter a “sandwich story,” where two events unfold within one larger narrative. The passage in Mark 5:21-43 begins with Jairus, a well-known religious leader, seeking Jesus’s help for his dying daughter. In the midst of this urgent plea, a woman who has suffered from chronic bleeding for twelve years interrupts, hoping for healing. After Jesus’s encounter with her, he returns to Jairus and his daughter.
This sandwich structure, while seemingly about two different stories, reveals a common thread: both Jairus and the woman approach Jesus with deep pain—Jairus on behalf of his daughter, and the woman seeking healing for herself. In both cases, the pain is physical and emotional, a reality many of us can identify with.
Reflecting on this passage, I am reminded of a deeply painful time in my own life. In 2011, when I was pregnant with my son, Noah, I unexpectedly went into early labor. After a few hours in the hospital, Noah was born. At first, everything seemed fine, but I quickly noticed that he was struggling to breathe. His chest was sinking in with each breath. Nurses rushed to take him to the neonatal intensive care unit, where he was connected to oxygen, and I was told I couldn’t see him because of a sinus infection I had.
The first day of Noah’s life was spent with me watching through a window. I was overwhelmed by the helplessness of that moment—by the deep pain of not knowing what would happen next. As I look back, I see how this experience mirrors the pain of the woman in Mark 5 and Jairus, both of whom came to Jesus desperate for healing in the face of great suffering.
We all know what it feels like to suffer, whether physically, emotionally, or relationally. It’s in these moments of pain that we often ask difficult questions: Where is Jesus in my pain? Does he care? In Mark 5, we find some answers.
Where is Jesus in my pain? In this passage, Jesus is present in the pain of all the major characters. He doesn’t rush past them or ignore their suffering. Even when Jairus pleads for Jesus to hurry, Jesus stops to engage with the woman in need of healing. In doing so, he demonstrates that he is present not only in the big emergencies but also in the smaller, quieter moments of pain. Jesus is not distant from our suffering—he enters it with us.
Does Jesus care about me? Jesus shows that he cares for both the well-known and the unknown. Jairus is a respected leader, but the woman who approaches him is marginalized and socially rejected due to her chronic condition. Despite their differences, Jesus cares for them both. If he cares for them, he certainly cares for us too, no matter our status or situation.
What happens if I am not healed? Healing does not always come in the form of a cure. Not all pain is removed, and not all suffering is instantly relieved. I have experienced this firsthand. At age fifteen, I suffered a serious injury playing softball that shattered my orbital bone. While the physical injury healed to some extent, I still live with nerve damage and ongoing sinus issues.
Jesus, however, offers a healing that goes deeper than physical restoration. What he offers is shalom—a deep, inner peace and wholeness that transcends our external circumstances. Shalom is more than just being cured; it’s about the restoration of our souls, a healing that brings wholeness.
In the case of the bleeding woman, Jesus doesn’t just heal her body. He calls her “daughter,” offering her acceptance and belonging. She is not only physically healed, but she is restored in her identity socially and spiritually. This is the kind of healing Jesus offers: one that restores both body and soul.
The woman in Mark 5 had spent twelve years in pain, seeking healing from many doctors, but she came to Jesus with the hope that he could do what no one else could. Similarly, Jairus approached Jesus in the face of his daughter’s imminent death, with a desperate hope that Jesus could heal her. Their lives were transformed after encountering Jesus—and in the same way, our lives are touched by the hope he offers.
Hope, as described in Hebrews 6:19, is an anchor for our souls—certain, strong, and secure. This kind of hope is not fleeting but steady and grounded in God’s promises. It is the kind of hope that allows us to endure pain and suffering, knowing that we are not alone. Jesus is present with us, holding us even in our darkest moments.
When I think back to my time in the NICU with Noah, I remember the fear I felt. I didn’t know what would happen next. Yet in the midst of my uncertainty, I experienced a profound sense of peace. I knew I wasn’t alone—Jesus was holding him, just as he was holding me.
Today, my son is thriving, and the pain of that moment has become a part of our story. But the deeper lesson is the inner peace that Jesus offers, even in the midst of suffering.
This peace, this restoration, is available to all of us. Whether you’re five, fifty, or 150, whether you’re a parent, a child, or someone who has never encountered Jesus before, his shalom is for you. No matter where we are in life, no matter the pain we carry, we can find healing in him.
Jesus’s offer of shalom is not just for the future. It is for today. In the face of suffering, whether it’s physical, emotional, or spiritual, we can turn to Jesus with the hope that he is present with us. He cares deeply for each of us, and his healing is not just for our bodies but for our souls. In his presence, we find true peace.
This article is adapted from a sermon titled “Jesus Cares About Everyone,” delivered at University Covenant Church in Davis, California.
