Touch

I was thinking today about the power of touch.

I work in a nursing home. I direct the rehab department and I'm the speech therapist. But I often think my most important role there is that of being an encourager, showing kindness, and giving attention to lonely, often forgotten people. Whether it's an elderly Parkinson's Disease patient or a young motor vehicle accident victim, everyone needs more than just a little kindness and attention. Everyone needs love.

Now here's something I think is cool: My dad was a pastor in our town for years and just about every week he went to this little nursing home and visited with and prayed for the people who lived there. Years later, I'm employed at this little nursing home, walking in the same door my dad walked in, and "ministering" to residents there in my own way.

One of the most powerful ways is through touch. I walk up and down the halls, in and out of the rooms throughout the day in the performance of my job. And I'm constantly touching an arm, patting a back, shaking a hand. There are the occasional hugs and even a few kisses on cheeks. Yesterday a quadriplegic fellow dropped his ball cap and couldn't get it. I put it back on his head and, good naturedly, patted his head a couple of times. This sounds weird, but I felt something fire in my spirit. I felt his appreciation and that he felt accepted by me and that my touch was healing to his spirit somehow in that brief moment. I don't understand that, maybe I was just imagining it. Still...

Years ago I was caught in a crossfire of what I think was bad teaching. Maybe it wasn't bad teaching. Maybe I only received the ricochet of half-heard teaching, but it messed me up nonetheless. This Bible teacher cautioned us to be careful of who we lay hands on (for prayer or just casually) and who puts their hands on us. This warning came because there apparently were these contagious curses floating around that would wreck our souls (see Third Corinthians or Fourth John for the Biblical foundation of this teaching). It was a time of hyperdemonchondria (my own word) when demons were lurking around every corner and for real witches were trying to put curses on local churches and Christian leaders. To be fair, there really were some creepy things going on at the time. I mean Creeee- py! Now I believe demons are as real as angels and we need to be prepared for spiritual warfare in prayer. But, in this case, I believe demons and such were given an inordinate amount of attention (which they crave anyway) and the personal result in my life was to make me back away for a while from close interaction with people outside of my immediate Christian circle of acquaintance.

I especially avoided touch.

Over a decade later there is only one lingering result of this bad teaching. This is kind of funny and shows how stupid I am: I won't wear yard sale clothes or thrift shop clothes. I'm afraid of spiritual residue left on the clothes by former owners. Isn't that dumb? Pray for me.

But back to my point. Touch. Touch in Jesus name. Touch for Jesus sake.

I have largely overcome this spiritual Howard Hughes-like aversion to actually touching others. I'm recognizing the power of touch now. My example is the Lord. Jesus touched lepers. He reached out to the demon possessed. He ate with sinners. He loved perfectly and without Pharisaical reservation. I want to know Jesus better and my greatest aspiration is to be like Him. I want to please Him in all my ways and to love Him with my life. And I really, really want to love like Him.

Right now, I guess I'm learning to touch like Him.

(By the way, I'd love to discuss this further with anyone who was around in those creee-py days. Maybe you can straighten me out.)