and lo, a Canaanitish woman, coming out from those borders, cried [to him] saying, Have pity on me, Lord, Son of David; my daughter is miserably possessed by a demon.
A mother from outside Israel runs after Jesus near the border of Jewish territory, begging help for a daughter she cannot save. She calls Him by a royal Jewish title that promised her people nothing — real faith, on the wrong ground.
Jesus had just exposed what is in the human heart. Where He went next was part of the lesson.
It is remarkable that right after exposing the heart of man, the Lord left the place of boasted privilege. He went instead to the region of Tyre and Sidon. That region lay outside the sphere of earthly blessing, and outside the people in covenant relationship with God. He had exposed the heart of man in the place of outward privilege. Now, in the defiled place, He showed the heart of God just as fully.
The woman's background made her the last person anyone would expect Him to help. God had placed her people under a curse.
If there was one race especially under God's ban, it was Canaan. "Cursed be Canaan," said Noah... When Israel came into the land, they were to wipe out the Canaanites without mercy, for that people had sunk into deep corruption. Their evil deeds had gone up to heaven with a cry to God for vengeance. Now picture the case most opposed to what we had before: scribes and Pharisees from Jerusalem, full of learning and outward reverence for the law. We have it in this poor woman of Canaan.
"Son of David" is the name of Israel's promised King. Strikingly few people used it while He walked here, and the ones who did were not the ones you would expect.
Son of David! Very few greeted the Lord this way when He was here in His humiliation. The blind men in Galilee (Matt. 9:27), Bartimaeus and his companion (Matt. 20:30-31), the Syrophoenician mother (Matt. 15:22), and the children in the temple (Matt. 21:15) are the only examples given to us... only blind men, who could not see Him, the woman who was not of Israel's line, and children, whom no one would naturally consult about such things, greeted Him as the Son of David.
She believed He could help. What she got wrong was the basis on which she asked.
Faith she has, and faith throws itself upon Him, trusting in His power and His willingness to help. But did she have a claim upon Him, the Son of David? Did she have a promise anywhere that the Son of David would come and deliver and heal a Canaanite woman? No, not one. For the Canaanite there is no hope held out in connection with Israel's Messiah. For this reason He did not answer her a word. If He had opened His lips, He could only have spoken with the authority of the Son of David. That would have meant her doom. But His heart is full of grace and sympathy for her. In that silence was hidden all His rich grace towards her.
Kelly thinks many people make her mistake today:
She appealed to Him as if she were one of a chosen people who had claims on Him as their Messiah... Many people now, anxious about their sins, do much the same. They try the Lord's Prayer and ask the Father to forgive them their sins as they forgive others. They go to God as their Father and ask Him to treat them as children. But that is the very thing not yet settled.
She pleads for a daughter under the power of a demon. The delay before her answer had a purpose.
The parent here was a Gentile, from an accursed race... and her daughter was severely oppressed by a demon. The poor woman, though an outcast, a mere dog, brought her child's case to Jesus. She was not heard at once. The Lord used her deep distress to work honesty, humility and confession in her soul.
His silence has troubled readers. It was not indifference, and it was not refusal.
Her need brought her to Christ; so far all was right. But to have our need supplied, we must take the place that suits us. God cannot, so to speak, refuse to supply our need; but He will refuse until we take our true position. This is the great principle we have to learn here.
In the end she asks on completely new ground.
She is a dog, but in need. Her hope is not in any right she has, but in the free goodness of God. Here need comes face to face with God, who has come in grace. She fully recognises what she is, a dog; but she insists that if that is so, there is goodness enough in God for such creatures. Could God say, No, there is not? Could Christ present Himself in that way? Impossible.
- Need drives her. A daughter under a demon's power sends her mother to Jesus. She was right to bring the case to Him, and He used her deep trouble to work honesty and humility in her.
- Place is the issue. She came with real faith but on wrong ground, addressing Him by a title that promised a Canaanite nothing.
- Silence teaches. He did not answer her a word. To speak as Son of David would have meant her doom, and God waits until we take our true position.
- Lowliness receives. Once she claims no right at all, her hope rests on the one thing that never fails: the free goodness of God.
- Grace reaches out. He had just exposed the human heart. Then He crossed into cursed ground and showed the heart of God.
But he did not answer her a word. And his disciples came to [him] and asked him, saying, Dismiss her, for she cries after us.
A woman from outside Israel begs Jesus to help her tormented daughter, and He says nothing at all. The disciples only want her sent away — so why did His love begin with silence?
The silence is startling because it is out of character for Him. Commentators point to the title she used. She had called Him "Son of David" — a title that belonged to Israel.
"He answered not a word" (Matt. 15:23): an unusual thing on His part. But why in her case? Because she came on wrong ground. She had heard Jews appeal to Him as Son of David and drew her own conclusion. But she had no right to any such appeal, because she was a Canaanite and not of Israel, not of David's people, but rather of the enemy.
Nothing here suggests He had not noticed her or did not care. He had come into that region on purpose.
He certainly knew her and her need, her struggles and her faith. Just as He went through Samaria for the sake of that one soul who came to the well, so here He enters these parts to meet the needy one and deliver her. His heart is all for her, and His divine love and desire is toward her.
Speaking would have settled her case the wrong way.
If He had opened His lips, it could only have been to speak with the authority of the Son of David, and that would have meant her doom. All His rich grace toward her was hidden in that silence. It told her: you have no claim on Me as Son of David, and no promise to claim Me as David's Son. He wants her to know she must come with no claim, stripped of everything.
Their words are not a plea on her behalf. They want the trouble ended.
When the disciples come and beg Him, saying, "Send her away, for she is crying out after us," they only want to get rid of her as a troublesome beggar. It is as if they had said, "Give her what she wants, and have done with her." He answered, "I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel." He holds to God's order.
He answered the disciples, but His words were about her.
The Lord confirms what has already been said about the wrongness of her plea. He says, in effect: "She does not belong to the house of Israel. I cannot give her a blessing on the ground she takes, but I will not send her away without a blessing."
The withheld word did its work. She stopped claiming a relationship she never had and reached instead for what God is in Himself.
Great faith produces great humility. There is the full recognition of complete unworthiness, accepting the place of a dog. She also sees that there is no right, no claim, no promise. Yet through grace, and because of this, she goes right through to the goodness of God in Himself. That is true faith.
Because the delay was deliberate, this scene becomes a pattern for prayers that get no answer.
You want to hurry God sometimes, but you never can. We find this sometimes in the desire for the restoring of a soul — a right thing to wish; but God must go to the bottom. Take a lovely example of this in the Syrophoenician woman. The Lord seemed painfully hard. The disciples say, "Send her away, for she is crying out after us." They said this to get rid of her, but He did not answer her one word. She had no title, no promises, nor anything else. It looked the same way when they sent Him word that the one He loved was sick — and yet He stayed two days longer where He was.
- Ground. The silence was not about her need but about her footing. She asked as an Israelite would, and He would not answer a claim she did not own.
- Heart. Behind the closed lips was full intent to bless — He had come to that region for her.
- Contrast. The disciples wanted the case closed; He wanted it opened all the way down to the truth.
- Rule. He will not bless anyone on a false basis, and He will not let a seeking soul go away empty — both at once.
- Fruit. The delay stripped away every claim she had. It left her holding nothing but the goodness of God — the place where great faith stands.
But he answering said, I have not been sent save to the lost sheep of Israel's house.
The Lord has left Jewish ground for the region of Tyre and Sidon. A Canaanite woman is crying after Him for her daughter. His reply is not spoken to her at all. It is His answer to the disciples — and it raises the hardest question in the scene. Why does the Saviour of the world draw His mission so narrowly?
The disciples had asked Him to send the woman away. He replies to them, not to her. The reason He gives is God's own order.
When she cries, "Have mercy on me, O Lord, Son of David," her own words oblige Him to exclude her. She has not, and cannot have, any claim or title to Him on that ground; He does not know such a person. That is the point. And so the disciples come and beg Him: "Send her away, for she is crying out after us." They only want to be rid of her, as a troublesome beggar. He answered, "I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel." He holds to God's order.
The words mark out His mission, not His heart. And the word "lost" says something hard about Israel itself.
He speaks, notice, not of what is in His heart, but of what is in His mission. And He speaks as Son of David, not as Son of Man or Saviour. But even the house of Israel were lost sheep, little as they realised it. If they were "lost," what hope was there for anyone, except in pure and utter grace?
The phrase is not a name for believers in general. It means Israel in its desolate state. And it leaves Gentiles outside.
I take this quite literally. It is not said of the Church; the Church is never called lost sheep. But the sheep of Israel in their desolate condition fit that description exactly. Before the Church is gathered, what we need is a Saviour. We Gentiles were not sheep at all, but dogs, from our Evangelist's point of view (see Matt. 15). And once we have been brought into the Church, we are not, and cannot be, lost sheep.
Behind the limit stands God's faithfulness. God made promises to Israel's forefathers, and Christ came to keep them.
The Lord answers them that He was not sent but to the lost sheep of the house of Israel. This was indeed the truth. God had counsels of His own, shown at the time of His rejection (see Isaiah 49). Even so, He was the minister of the circumcision for the truth of God, to fulfil His promises made to the fathers.
She called Him by a title that belonged to Israel. And she came from a people the Old Testament had cursed. That is why He said nothing.
She was a Syrophoenician — a Canaanite — of a race held in the Old Testament to be accursed (Gen. 9:25-27)... She had no privileges, no claims. Now, she recognises Him here as the Lord, the Son of David, and greets Him as such... He does not answer her a word... A repentant Jew might have appealed to Him under this title. He stood in the place of the promise which Messiah came to fulfil. "I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel."
The scene turns when she gives up the claim she never had.
She abandons her claim, for she had none. She confesses sovereign grace, and receives the blessing at once.
The boundary was real, but it was not final. His death opened what His earthly mission had kept closed.
He might come as minister of the circumcision for the lost sheep of the house of Israel (Matt. 15:24). But His love could not be so limited, once His death opens the floodgates. The mention of His death leads Him to speak of what was quite outside Israel. "And I have other sheep that are not of this fold." They are not of the Jewish people, penned in by law and ordinance. "I must bring them also, and they will listen to my voice. So there will be one flock, one shepherd."
- Order — the words answer the disciples' "send her away." He holds to God's order; He does not brush her off.
- Mission — He names the limits of His commission, not of His heart. He speaks here as Son of David, not as Saviour of all.
- Lost — even Israel is called lost sheep. If they had no hope except grace, no one else has either.
- Promise — the narrow mission was faithfulness. He came to keep God's word to Israel's forefathers.
- Overflow — the woman drops her claim and receives everything. His death opens the fold: other sheep, one flock, one Shepherd.
But she came and did him homage, saying, Lord, help me.
This moment sits between two rebuffs. First Jesus says nothing to her; then He says He came only for Israel's lost sheep. A woman from outside Israel comes anyway, kneels, and prays three short words.
She belonged to a people under an ancient curse. She came empty-handed to One greater than Solomon.
Someone greater than Solomon was now living in an obscure corner of Galilee. Yet the one who came to bow at His feet and present her request was only a descendant of Canaan, weighed down since the days of Noah with a curse (Gen. 9:25). The Psalmist foretold that when the LORD's King came to Zion, the daughter of Tyre would be there with a gift (Ps. 45:12). But this poor woman had nothing to bring to Jesus except her own child, sadly possessed by an evil demon.
Her first cry used a royal title: "Son of David." One word in the Lord's reply opened the way for her — lost.
Everything centres on one little word. That word is "lost." He made her understand that He had come for the lost sheep of the house of Israel. If they were lost and needed a Saviour, how much more she, a Canaanite woman? ... She fully realised her place outside Israel. Because she knows it, she drops His title, Son of David. With this she declared, "I have no claim upon His mercy."
What she puts in its place is not a smaller word but a more personal one.
So she comes, now worshipping, and dropping the formal title while she owns in her simple "Lord," in a more personal way, His title over her. Will He not give help to one who needs it? So she drops every other claim but this.
He had not answered her a word. She came back anyway.
She will not give Him up though He is silent towards her; and again she comes, worshipping Him, and saying, "Lord, help me!" ... Gently and graciously, yet truly, He led her on step by step. First He led her off the false ground she had taken in the wildness of her distress, for as Son of David she had no claim on Him. Then He led her to the full acknowledgment that even a dog in the house of such a Master was not forgotten.
Older translations say she "worshipped Him"; the ESV says she knelt. Either way, she is at His feet with nothing but her need.
But she came. Yes, she came into His divine presence. Worshipping, she falls at His feet with a cry of need: "Lord, help me." She has taken her place before Him, and she casts herself upon Him with all her need. "Lord, help me" — what a blessed prayer it is!
The first appeal drew nothing. This one draws a reply — though still a hard one.
Now this is a good deal more truthful, and it brings out an answer. Her first appeal had truth in it, but it stood on ground she had no right to. It was as much as saying, "Do not answer me." Now she gets an answer... And are there not hearts today in this condition? They have been sent to Christ for help. They feel their sorrow, and they go to Him looking for promises. And what do they say — "I have peace, I have joy in God"? No, they come back saying, "I have got nothing!" They have not come down to the place where God gives help.
Chapter 15 has already exposed what is in the heart of man. Here, one writer says, the testing runs the other way.
If He has come and put the heart of man to the test, here is His own heart put to the test. Can He turn to her and say: you are mistaken; you have too high an idea of My goodness? I have found no affection in your heart for Me, and now I must let you know that there is none in My heart for you. Impossible.
- Lost — the word that unlocked everything. If Israel's own sheep were lost and needed a Saviour, how much more a Canaanite woman with no claim on His mercy.
- Dropped — she lets go of "Son of David," a title she had no right to. She keeps only "Lord," owning His authority over her.
- Nothing — she brings no gift and no claim; only a daughter possessed by an evil demon and her own need.
- Kept coming — His silence did not send her away. She returns, kneels, and prays the shortest of prayers. The Lord leads her step by step off false ground onto true.
- Answered — God gives help where the heart is honest. And her cry tests His heart too: He will never tell a needy soul that she thinks too well of His goodness.
But he answering said, It is not well to take the bread of the children and cast it to the dogs.
A mother from outside Israel has come begging the Lord to help her daughter, and His answer sounds like a door closing in her face. Why speak this way to a woman in real distress, and why does she hear an opening in it?
His answer assumes a line that was already there. One writer asks whether the Son of David could have wiped it out.
The Lord answers her that it is not right to take the children's bread and throw it to the dogs. Here we see His true position: He had come to Israel, and the promises were for the children of the kingdom. The Son of David was the servant of these promises. Could He, in that place, wipe out the distinction of the people of God?
Another writer puts the two halves of the saying side by side in plain terms — and shows the Lord holding to what was true even while His heart was set on blessing her.
As Jehovah's Servant, He will not only own the rights of Jehovah, but will have all do likewise; so He replies, "It is not right to take the children's bread" (that is, what belongs to Israel) "and to cast it to dogs" (that is, to Gentiles).
She had first come to Him with a claim that was not hers to make. Watch what her faith does once that ground is gone.
So she drops a claim of relationship that was valid for the most wretched person in Israel, but completely empty for her. She bowed before Him and said, "Lord, help me." Then He answered and said, "It is not right to take the children's bread and throw it to the dogs." The truth fully burst on her, and she submitted to it. Her faith, already real, threw off its hindrance and became great. She abandons claim, for she had none; she confesses sovereign grace, and receives the blessing at once.
Much depends on which word for "dogs" He used.
A dog — a Gentile — the bread for the children! Is her faith joined with humility — and true faith always is — enough to stand this word? Now look at the word "dogs." The word our Lord used is a small form of it; it really means "little dogs." It refers to the dogs that come into the house looking for food, not the homeless animals that roam through Eastern villages. In the use of this word she understands once more His readiness and willingness to bless her. And so He led her down, deeper and deeper, and as He leads her down her hope becomes brighter and brighter.
The apparent harshness was working for her, not against her.
What had the Lord done by His apparent harshness? He had brought the poor woman to say, and to feel, her real place before God — that is, the truth about herself. But was it true that God was less good than she believed? Was He less rich in mercy toward the destitute, whose only hope and trust was in that mercy? To say that would deny the character and the nature of God — and He Himself was the expression of that character, its truth, and its witness on earth. It would be to deny Himself and the purpose of His mission. He could not say, "God has not a crumb for such."
She agrees with every word He said about her, and then rests her whole case somewhere else — on what He is.
Her faith triumphs over this difficulty by admitting the truth about herself and falling back upon the grace that is in His heart. She can say, as it were, "Yes, as far as I am concerned, it is true I cannot claim the place of a child. I am but a dog, but my whole trust is in what You are and not what I am. I see there is such grace in Your heart that You would not deny a crumb to a dog."
One writer draws the line straight to people who pray and come away with nothing.
They have been sent to Christ for help. They feel their sorrow, and they go to Him looking for promises. And what do they say? "I have got peace, I have got joy in God"? No, they come back saying, "I have got nothing!" They have not come down to the place where God gives help.
- Bread — The children are Israel. The bread is the promise the Son of David came to serve.
- Claim — She had none. She could not ask on the ground of promise, and the Lord's word brought that into the open.
- Word — He said "little dogs," the ones allowed indoors. The very term that seemed to shut her out told her she was near enough to be fed.
- Descent — The hard word guided her; it did not refuse her. As He led her lower, her hope grew brighter, until she stood where God gives help.
- Crumb — Faith agreed with everything He said about her and rested on what He is. She came with no claim and went home with all she asked for.
But she said, Yea, Lord; for even the dogs eat of the crumbs which fall from the table of their masters.
The Lord has just told a Gentile woman that the children's bread should not go to the dogs. Instead of protesting, she agrees — and her answer raises two questions: what did she concede, and why did Christ call it great faith?
Her first two words are not a polite formality. They accept His statement and then press it into service.
In Matthew 15:27, Mark 7:28, it is simply "yes, Lord." That is, "yes, Lord, You can do it" even on Your own ground — "for even," or "since." It calls any opposition into question.
(Older translations render her opening word "Truth, Lord.")
The term the Lord used was not the one for the scavenging street animals. It was a smaller word — and she caught it.
That might seem as if she had gained nothing, but she has. Again He has dropped a word for her, if she is lowly enough to take it. For the last word "dogs" is not the word for the wild, homeless, refuse-hunting creatures of the eastern streets. It is still "dogs," yet the "little dogs" — the house or pet dogs even. Such dogs would look, as she was doing, for something in the house. So the way for her into blessing has really been laid open — if only she has humility enough to take it. And indeed faith and humility — which in a sinner is repentance — are twin companions, never to be separated.
Even so, the softer word was no compliment. One reference book notes that it "does not remove the contempt implied in the term" (Morrish Bible Dictionary).
Earlier she had called Him Son of David and asked for help. Now she asks on no title at all.
Here is her place; she abandons all title and claim in herself; but her need casts itself on pure bounty. The Lord's eye has been watching all along the humbling that was going on in her heart. Now that He has brought her down to her real condition, He can grant her every desire. It is no longer, "Have mercy on me, O Lord, Son of David," nor even, "Lord, help me!"
She argues from how full the table is, not from any claim of her own.
Her answer was magnificent... It was as though she said: I know that You have spread the table for the house of Israel according to all the promises of the past. But Your provision is so abundant that that table will not hold it. It must overflow, and I will be satisfied with the overflow. She got her desire, she tasted that the Lord is gracious.
Another writer reads her as arguing from people to God: "I am indeed only a Gentile. Yet among men there is enough left over for the dogs to feed on. I am sure the heart of God is not narrower than the heart of man" (F. B. Hole).
She does not deny Israel's privileged place. She agrees with it — and still gets through to God Himself.
Masters they might be in God's plans, and she owned it. But He who gave the children's bread to the children could supply the need of those who were not children, and had only the crumbs to look to... Great faith produces great humility. There is the full recognition of complete unworthiness: she accepts the place of a dog. She sees too that there is no right, no claim, no promise. Yet through grace, and because of this, she goes right through to the goodness of God in Himself. That is true faith... It is thus that need, by faith, meets God — God Himself in goodness, but revealed in Christ.
The verse ends in the lowest possible place. That is where He commends her.
As a Gentile stranger, she could not claim a chief seat at the feast, nor indeed could she claim a seat as a guest at all... but with unusual and fitting humility she lowered herself to a dog's place beneath the table. She took that place so the Master might authorise her to share the crumbs of heavenly mercy. So she humbled herself to the lowest, while clinging always to the Highest. In the Lord's eyes she became "great in faith," giving glory to God.
And what she received was no scrap. One writer observes that to be a dog in the house of such a Master, and to receive a crumb from such a One, "was heaven on earth" (W. T. Turpin).
- Agree. Her "Yes, Lord" concedes the whole point — and then turns it into her plea: You can still do it, even on Your own ground.
- Descend. She accepts the name "dog," drops every title she had used, and asks with no claim of her own left standing.
- Notice. He said household dog, not street dog. The hardest sentence He spoke to her hid the way into blessing.
- Reason. Crumbs fall because the table is loaded. She measures her hope not by her worthiness but by His abundance.
- Receive. Faith and humility travel together. He called her great at the lowest place under the table.
Then Jesus answering said to her, O woman, thy faith [is] great. Be it to thee as thou desirest. And her daughter was healed from *that* hour.
The Lord met a Canaanite mother first with silence, then with a word about children's bread and dogs. Why does He now praise her faith and grant all she asked?
Her first cry addressed Him as "Son of David" — a title that belonged to Israel, not to a woman of Canaan. Commentators tie His silence to that wrong ground. He waited for her to judge her own place.
Here many a soul may learn why the Lord does not grant its appeal. Hers was deep and earnest; yet He answered her not a word. What claims on the Son of David had a Canaanite woman? … But repentance has its place as truly as faith; and God will have the soul judge itself rightly.
The delay was never refusal. The disciples wanted her gone; He wanted her blessed, but blessed truthfully.
They disliked the discredit of her persistence and wished to be rid of her. He meant to bless her; but it had to be in the truth as well as the grace of God.
What made her faith "great"? One writer points to two things joined in her.
The moment any soul finds its need of God, right then God is waiting to meet that need. It was so with the Syrophoenician woman. She drew out that word of the Lord — "O woman, great is your faith! Be it done for you as you desire." Great faith is knowing my need and counting on God's willingness to meet it. … I never get into the place where God meets my need until I know that God is God and I am a sinner.
She agreed with the Lord's own description of her and turned it into her argument.
She had appealed to Him as the Son of David, and He was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel. So when she cried "Lord, help me," He told her, "It is not right to take the children's bread and throw it to the dogs." … She says in effect, "Yes, Lord, I am a dog. But there is so much on the Master's table that there is plenty for the dog beneath it." Was He there to deny it? No — He came to reveal that overflowing heart of God that could not be shut up inside Jewish barriers.
She had no promise to claim. So what she received could only be grace — and grace, one writer says, shows God in a way law and promise never could.
Because it was not a matter of promise, the effect was to bring out how God was above it all in grace. … It is God stepping in and rising above every dispensation. He does this to reveal Himself and to bring the soul back to Himself in confidence. Then the soul can say: I know God as a Jew under law and promise never could have known Him, and all because I have no right to it. I have a right to nothing, and I have got God!
He set no limit on what she could ask.
The Lord is not now looked at in the way of promise (however true that is), and He cannot deny what God is, and what He is in Himself. He says, "O woman, great is your faith," and then what more? "Be it done for you as you desire." Whatever she asks, resting on the simple fact that God had goodness even for a dog, He cannot help answering.
This was His pattern: He measured His reply to the size of the faith in front of Him.
When the Lord was on earth He gave Himself over to faith, and acted according to its measure. When it was great: "Let it be done for you as you have believed" (Matt. 8:13). "O woman, great is your faith! Be it done for you as you desire" (Matt. 15:28). When faith was small, He acted according to Himself — see Matt. 8:26, where the disciples' "little faith" was answered by "a great calm."
He does not give in reluctantly. He is delighted.
That argument could not fail. He Himself gave it to her. He would deny His very nature if He said He was not good enough for that. But He has no thought of this. He does not need the argument, though for her sake He rejoices in it. His heart leaps to His lips as He exclaims, "O woman, great is your faith! Be it done for you as you desire." And her daughter is healed from that very hour.
The healing was immediate and complete, and it was granted to someone outside every privilege.
The Syrophoenician woman was proof that even a dog, a Gentile, once she took her true place before Him, had her whole request fulfilled without delay and without reserve: "O woman, great is your faith; be it to you even as you will. And her daughter was healed from that very hour."
- Silence — His silence was not refusal. He would not bless her on a claim she did not have. Blessing must come in truth as well as grace.
- Place — She stopped arguing from privilege and agreed with His verdict on her. Faith and self-judgment come together, never apart.
- Nothing — With no promise to plead, she had only God's goodness to lean on. That taught her more of God than any title could.
- Everything — She asked for a crumb, and He set no limit on her answer. He meets faith by the measure of faith.
- Now — Her daughter was healed that very hour, and the Lord rejoiced in the faith He had drawn out.