Today we rode a boat across the Sea of Galilee. I enjoyed this peaceful experience. I’ve been struggling with mental overload the last few days so I’m savoring every still moment I can get. We have these whisper devices that allow our tour guide to speak into a microphone and we can all listen through an earpiece. It’s very handy and keeps the guides from having to shout over each other in order to be heard at the different crowded sites. Handy though it may be, it’s made it hard for me to feel like I can have any of my own thoughts. But today on the boat, I turned my device off and just listened to the water. It was wonderful.

I lost track of all the places and reasons that we went today, except for one moment in the morning that I will cherish forever.

We visited the site of the city of Magdala, where Mary Magdalene was from, and where the Catholic church has built a church in honor of the women of the Bible. This is a beautiful church with some gorgeous mosaics depicting some of the stories of these women. It was beautiful. The sanctuary part of the church has the pulpit in a representation of a boat on the Sea of Galilee. There is so much natural light there, I just loved it.

Then I noticed people going downstairs so I followed. When I entered the room I was faced with a mural-sized painting of the woman with an issue of blood touching the robe of Jesus.

This powerful painting stopped me short. In my mind, I heard the words, “Who touched me?”

Suddenly I was the woman sitting in the road, praying for help and healing. I wondered if all the times I reach out to touch the Savior – when I pray, when I read scripture, when I try to change for the better, when I seek healing – How well does my faith draw on the power of my Savior? Does he feel power go out of him?

I want to do better. I want Jesus to ask, “Who touched me?” when I reach out to him.