Hey kids! Today I'm going to tell you about a day that had TWO miracles in one — and a moment that taught everyone around me that it is NEVER too late when I'm involved.
A man named Jairus pushed through a massive crowd to get to me. And this wasn't just anybody — Jairus was a synagogue leader. Important. Respected. The kind of guy who usually doesn't get on his knees in public. But that day? He fell RIGHT at my feet, begging.
"My little daughter is dying. PLEASE come and put your hands on her so she will be healed and live."
When a father is desperate for his child, pride goes out the window. I could feel his heart breaking. So I went with him.
But the crowd was CRUSHING. People everywhere, pushing, pressing. And somewhere in that chaos, a woman who had been bleeding for TWELVE YEARS reached out and touched the edge of my cloak. Twelve years of suffering. She'd spent every penny on doctors. Nobody could help her. And in one moment of faith — just one touch — power went out of me and she was healed INSTANTLY.
I stopped. "Who touched me?"
My disciples looked at me like I was crazy. "The WHOLE crowd is touching you!" But I knew. Someone had touched me with FAITH, not just with their hand. The woman came forward, trembling, and told me everything. I said to her, "Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace."
Beautiful, right? But while I was talking to her, the WORST possible news arrived.
Messengers from Jairus's house. You could see it on their faces before they even opened their mouths. "Your daughter is dead. Don't bother the teacher anymore."
Don't bother the teacher ANYMORE. Like I had an expiration date. Like death was the end of the conversation.
I looked straight at Jairus and said five words he would never forget: "Don't be afraid. Just believe."
We went to the house. People were wailing, crying, carrying on. I said, "Why all this commotion? The child isn't dead — she's asleep." They LAUGHED at me.
I put them all outside. Took only Peter, James, John, and the girl's parents into the room. I walked to her bed, took her hand, and said, "Talitha koum" — "Little girl, I say to you, GET UP."
And she did. She stood right up and walked around. She was TWELVE years old — alive, breathing, perfectly healthy. Her parents were absolutely stunned.
Here's what I need you to know: when the report says "it's over," I say it's NOT. When people say "don't bother," I say KEEP BELIEVING. I am not limited by what looks impossible. Death itself takes orders from me.
Never stop believing. It's never too late.
