As Jesus went, the people pressed around him. 43And there was a woman who had had a discharge of blood for twelve years, and though she had spent all her living on physicians, she could not be healed by anyone. 44She came up behind him and touched the fringe of his garment, and immediately her discharge of blood ceased. 45And Jesus said, “Who was it that touched me?” When all denied it, Peter said, “Master, the crowds surround you and are pressing in on you!” 46But Jesus said, “Someone touched me, for I perceive that power has gone out from me.” 47And when the woman saw that she was not hidden, she came trembling, and falling down before him declared in the presence of all the people why she had touched him, and how she had been immediately healed. 48And he said to her, “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace.” (Luke 8:43–48 )
Jesus could not let this woman leave with half a gift. He could not let her go away with only her healing. She must know who had healed her. Her will and His must come together; and for this
her eyes and His, her voice and His ears, her ears and His voice must meet. It is the only case recorded in which He says “daughter”. He perfectly understood her pain. His heart yearns toward the woman to shield her from her own innocent shame. Her story appealed to all that was tenderest in humanity; for the secret that her modesty had hidden, her conscience had spoken aloud. Therefore the tenderest word that the language could afford must be hers. “Daughter”, He said. It was the fullest reward, the richest acknowledgement He could find of the honor in which He held her, His satisfaction with her conduct and the perfect love He had for her.Some will say that the word was an Eastern mode in common usage at the time. I say that whatever Jesus did or said, He did and said as no other man did or said. If He said “daughter”, it meant what any man would mean by it; it also meant what no man could mean by it –what no man was good enough, great enough, loving enough to mean by it. In Him the Father spoke to this one the eternal truth of His relation to all His daughters, to all the women He has made, though individually it can be heard only by those who lift up the filial eyes, lay bare the filial heart.
Perhaps she thought He was offended with her because of her approach to Him. But He soothes her with gentle, restoring words, “Take heart, your faith has made you well.” What wealth of tenderness! She must not be left in her ignorance to the danger of associating power with the mere garment of the divine. She must be brought face-to-face with her Healer. See how He praises her. He is never slow to commend. The first quiver of the upturning eyelid is to Him, faith. He said, “Daughter”.