Our actress for the Woman with an Issue of Blood was, herself, facing a rare and life-threatening disease as we were shooting.
She told us, "my doctor said 'one day you might wake up and not be able to see or walk…'" So she would stare at her kids each night before they went to bed, "to memorize their faces."
We set up the scene. Jesus walked by, and she lunged… We shot a few times and with each take, she reached more aggressively until finally SHE RIPPED THE ROBE!
That part is not in the Bible. That part is hers.
The Gospel is not entertainment. It is a playbook for meaning. We walk into these stories until 'the reach for Jesus' becomes ours. Like she did… and like millions before and after her have.
The miracles are not just His doing.
They are about the desperate stretch of the believer toward Him. Reaching is the work. Healing is the hope, but "healing" has a tendency to show up in unexpected ways.
Jairus running for his daughter.
A man in tattered clothing waiting for a hand.
We all reach differently…
Often I will see collectors order two matching pieces from this collection… 'One for me and one for thee.' Same image on a wall in my house and your hospital room…
They hang them as a way of praying together when one of them, or someone they love, is in the middle of needing a miracle. Caregivers do this. Sisters do this. Friends from the same waiting room do this.
The Biblical miracles of Jesus become a place to stand with each other.
The Bible does not promise that every reach gets the answer we wanted.
Sometimes the miracle comes. Other times the gift is finding Jesus already there in the pain.
The quiet reassurance that we have not been forgotten.
That He has been watching the whole time.
That the Master knows every hair that falls from our head.
That is fitting a miracle just for us.
"Daughter, your faith has made you well. Go in peace, and be healed of your affliction."
Our actress for the Woman with an Issue of Blood was, herself, facing a rare and life-threatening disease as we were shooting.
She told us, "my doctor said 'one day you might wake up and not be able to see or walk…'" So she would stare at her kids each night before they went to bed, "to memorize their faces."
We set up the scene. Jesus walked by, and she lunged… We shot a few times and with each take, she reached more aggressively until finally SHE RIPPED THE ROBE!
That part is not in the Bible. That part is hers.
The Gospel is not entertainment. It is a playbook for meaning. We walk into these stories until 'the reach for Jesus' becomes ours. Like she did… and like millions before and after her have.
The miracles are not just His doing.
They are about the desperate stretch of the believer toward Him. Reaching is the work. Healing is the hope, but "healing" has a tendency to show up in unexpected ways.
Jairus running for his daughter.
A man in tattered clothing waiting for a hand.
We all reach differently…
Often I will see collectors order two matching pieces from this collection… 'One for me and one for thee.' Same image on a wall in my house and your hospital room…
They hang them as a way of praying together when one of them, or someone they love, is in the middle of needing a miracle. Caregivers do this. Sisters do this. Friends from the same waiting room do this.
The Biblical miracles of Jesus become a place to stand with each other.
The Bible does not promise that every reach gets the answer we wanted.
Sometimes the miracle comes. Other times the gift is finding Jesus already there in the pain.
The quiet reassurance that we have not been forgotten.
That He has been watching the whole time.
That the Master knows every hair that falls from our head.
That is fitting a miracle just for us.
"Daughter, your faith has made you well. Go in peace, and be healed of your affliction."
