“I want to touch you, Pastor Tom”. Three year old Esther was stretching to see if she could touch him at the table. She wiggled and stretched, spread wide her little fingers and stretched with all her might. She raised herself in her booster seat and reached as far as she could. As her fingertips met Tom’s, she smiled shyly and whispered, “I touched Pastor Tom!”
He was as pleased as she was!
Past and current research explores the benefits of the human touch. Â It is known that patients recover faster when care givers touch them. Â It is one of the love languages spoken in marriage. Â Babies thrive with touch. Touch just makes happy!
As I watched, I thought of the woman in the *Gospels with the bleeding disorder who struggled to touch Jesus–just his clothes would be enough.
Oh, how she needed touch; she lived in isolation, in humiliation, in shame due to her unclean state. Â She had been untouchable for 12 years–with little or no display of affection to or from her.
Oh, she was hungry!
Now, she knew Jesus was coming near–she had heard about this man. If only she could reach him–could stretch and touch him for only an instant–without anyone knowing. After the years of suffering physically and emotionally, she was grasping at her only hope.
Her belief in what she had heard about this Jesus –that he could heal–was all she had left. Pushing as she could in her weakened state,  struggling  to make her way through the noisy crowd, she eventually reached him. She risked ridicule and rebuke, but she had no choice.
Can you see her?
Her fingers, momentarily, but gently caress the bottom of his cloak, her eyes are shut, and she silently whispers, “I believe, I believe . . .”
Immediately—-Â she knew she was healed; she knew that debilitating weakness had gone. She knew the thief of her strength and energy –her very youth– had finally fled.
And she had only touched-one brief instant . . .
But Jesus knew . . .
Someone has touched me, as his eyes pierced the clamoring crowd–with a touch of desperation , someone reaching for hope, stretching for deliverance, believing. . .
And that power to give her new life flowed from him to her . . .her faith released his power to heal. In one frantic grasp, she was well.
He desires my touch, that reach of total trust.  He waits to be wanted. And as I clutch in reckless abandonment, He is there, releasing the peace and assurance for which I ache, the power that enables me to live this day–now.
Grasping, reaching, touching . . .
Matt 9. Mark 5, Luke 8
a journey to now 
I just forwarded this to one of our cancer patients who is and will be having chemo for as long as she lives. Wish you could meet her-the sweetest imaginable, having lived through more than you could imagine. I thought of her when I read this. She yearns for Christian fellowship but wehn she does get to come to church, has to enter after all are seated, sit on the back row and leave before church is over. I know she yearns for a human touch, and know she is feeling God’s touch or she would not be where she is now. Thanks-Keep them coming and hope you don’t mind if I share.
Gerry -Gerry- gerry37@ymail.com
oct17 posted: “”I want to touch you, Pastor Tom”. Three year old Esther was stretching to see if she could touch him at the table. She wiggled and stretched, spread wide her little fingers and stretched with all her might. She raised herself in her booster seat and “
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You are touching ………with your words.
Thank you dear friend.
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Dear Barb,
Your best! So encouraging! The story of faith and what mercies it can bring. But also the story of love shared, and showing what joy a touch generates.
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thanks for sharing darling sister Barb. Miss you. Big hugs to you both. xoxoxooxox
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Barbara, Thanks and does this mean that I am now on your site and will get any messages/updates from you. Love and prayers, Glenda
He doesn’t call the qualified; He qualifies the called
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