What is it about the touch that we crave so much to have? What is it that when we are touched by someone whom we care about it brings calmness to our inner being? Whenever I see a baby I love to put my finger to their tiny hands to see if the wrap their tiny fingers around my finger; the touch of a new life.
Reminiscing of when my sons were infants brings a unique joy to me. When my oldest son was old enough for his first "real" bed, he had to have me lie down on the floor next to his bed with our hands hand in hand until he drifted off to his dream world. Some nights it would be short time while other nights it could be what seemed forever. If I slipped my hand away too early he would grab it back and I would not let go. There were times my arm would be numb by the position of holding my arm up to his bed for the amount of time it took, but to provide what he needed wasn't a sacrifice, it's what you do when you are a parent. You provide the touch of security.
Just a couple of days ago the three of us were walking around a park lake and my youngest son grabbed hold of my hand to hold it. We walked hand in hand, then my oldest son came up put his arm around me while the three of us walked around the path around the water; the touch of bonding.
There is something about that connection when someone else that you care about transcends your space and touches your skin. When someone reaches out and wraps their arms around you when you are having a difficult time. It goes deeper than just a physical touch it is a soul touch. No words need to be said; the touch of comfort.
If that touch were to go away, what would it be like? Would my soul go dry with loneliness? Would my soul become calloused to intimacy? Would my soul evolve to be so self sufficient to where I no longer craved that feeling?
There are times that my soul needs healing; healing from sin, healing from hurt or healing from loneliness. I read in the Gospels that Jesus Himself uses the power of His touch for healing. It was their faith that healed but the touch that provided the confirmation. 12While Jesus was in one of the towns, a man came along who was covered with leprosy. When he saw Jesus, he fell with his face to the ground and begged him, "Lord, if you are willing, you can make me clean." 13Jesus reached out his hand and touched the man. "I am willing," he said. "Be clean!" And immediately the leprosy left him. Luke 5:12-13 (New International Version) The touch of His healing.
Several weeks ago my youngest son had already gone to bed and my oldest and I were watching the television. I was where most men would be late night when we are watching television, I was laying on the couch with the remote in hand, that is what us men do. My oldest son, who is as tall as me now, came to me and said "Dad can you just hold me?" I replied, "Of course." He laid in front of me, I wrapped my arms around him and he placed his hands on mine. A tear came to my eye as I held him. He is no longer that little toddler that needs his daddy to lay down beside his bed anymore to hold his hand, but he still needs that touch; the touch of love.
Thursday, May 19, 2005
Tuesday, May 17, 2005
The Beauty of Scars
Every boy has his scars. It’s a rite of passage to the masculine world of manhood. We like to display our scars like it is a prize trophy from our recent hunt in the wilds of the Serengeti. With each of our scars we will tell you a story about it. I have mine and if you ask I will show you. It’s on the shin of my right leg I got it when I was a boy, oh yes and it has a story. I know that girls have scars too, but they are not like us guys, they want to cover them up with make up and such they don’t think it adds to their appearance like us guys. I have known men that have had open-heart surgery and have displayed their massive zipper scar with pride. Showing that their chest was cracked, heart operated on and they survived to tell about it, they have a story to tell.
We all have those scars in our lives. You know what I am talking about and if you don’t you have probably sipped too much out of your cup of self-denial this morning. As we grow up, us guys, perhaps women too, like to cover up those emotional wounds in order to show the world how beautiful our life is, wound free, but the fact of the matter is the scars are still there. We know because we see ourselves without the makeup.
The interesting thing about scars is that they were not there initially. It started out as wound free flesh and skin, but then something happened. Some type of event caused the wound, perhaps an accident or a surgery or even it was self-inflicted, yes I said self-inflicted. I remember seeing this patient, in a psychiatric hospital that I once work in, that cause self inflicted scars on her arms; “cutters” is what we called them. They would superficially cut on their arms or other parts of their bodies to ease the pain in their lives. This one patient was a very attractive young women, but depressed and confused had a lot of pain in her life. As a result she would cut on her fore arms leaving massive scar tissue on them. Even if her depression would be cured or controlled, she would always have the massive scars on her arms. The wound happens exposing the flesh, and it is not always pretty, but it happens. I don’t know about you but my wounds have not been pretty, I think I would call them repulsive.
Then there is healing. That is what the scar is, the sign of a healed wound. If the scar were not there the wound would still be open. Exposed to infection, exposed to further injury, exposed for us to see the ugliness of the wound. Thankfully there is a scar to remind us of the healing.
“He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree, so that we might die to sins and live for righteousness; by his wounds you have been healed.”(NIV) 1 Peter 2:24.
Listen closely to your heart as you read it again slowly….”by his wounds you have been healed.” He suffered and was wounded so that you and I may be healed. A wound has to be tended too in order for it to heal, it can’t sit with out cleansing or it will not heal properly. His pain, His suffering, His wounds is our cleansing. I no longer have to sit and look at the ugliness of an open wound; He provided the healing over 2000 years ago. His scars heals my wounds. My scars remind me of that healing He provided. I have a story to tell of His healing.
Several weeks ago, my oldest son was carrying some glass jars in a sack when he fell and shattered one of the jars of hot sauce. As a result he cut his hand by a piece of glass. We cleaned his wound, got the bleeding to subside, applied some medicine on it and then place the butterfly bandages strategically in order that the cut would heal properly. Once we had the situation under control he asked me that question. “Dad, do you think I will have a scar?” I replied back to him, knowing what every young boy wants to hear and said, “Yes, I’m sure you probably will have some type of scar.” He was excited, “Cool, that’s what I want!”. He now has a story to tell.
We all have those scars in our lives. You know what I am talking about and if you don’t you have probably sipped too much out of your cup of self-denial this morning. As we grow up, us guys, perhaps women too, like to cover up those emotional wounds in order to show the world how beautiful our life is, wound free, but the fact of the matter is the scars are still there. We know because we see ourselves without the makeup.
The interesting thing about scars is that they were not there initially. It started out as wound free flesh and skin, but then something happened. Some type of event caused the wound, perhaps an accident or a surgery or even it was self-inflicted, yes I said self-inflicted. I remember seeing this patient, in a psychiatric hospital that I once work in, that cause self inflicted scars on her arms; “cutters” is what we called them. They would superficially cut on their arms or other parts of their bodies to ease the pain in their lives. This one patient was a very attractive young women, but depressed and confused had a lot of pain in her life. As a result she would cut on her fore arms leaving massive scar tissue on them. Even if her depression would be cured or controlled, she would always have the massive scars on her arms. The wound happens exposing the flesh, and it is not always pretty, but it happens. I don’t know about you but my wounds have not been pretty, I think I would call them repulsive.
Then there is healing. That is what the scar is, the sign of a healed wound. If the scar were not there the wound would still be open. Exposed to infection, exposed to further injury, exposed for us to see the ugliness of the wound. Thankfully there is a scar to remind us of the healing.
“He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree, so that we might die to sins and live for righteousness; by his wounds you have been healed.”(NIV) 1 Peter 2:24.
Listen closely to your heart as you read it again slowly….”by his wounds you have been healed.” He suffered and was wounded so that you and I may be healed. A wound has to be tended too in order for it to heal, it can’t sit with out cleansing or it will not heal properly. His pain, His suffering, His wounds is our cleansing. I no longer have to sit and look at the ugliness of an open wound; He provided the healing over 2000 years ago. His scars heals my wounds. My scars remind me of that healing He provided. I have a story to tell of His healing.
Several weeks ago, my oldest son was carrying some glass jars in a sack when he fell and shattered one of the jars of hot sauce. As a result he cut his hand by a piece of glass. We cleaned his wound, got the bleeding to subside, applied some medicine on it and then place the butterfly bandages strategically in order that the cut would heal properly. Once we had the situation under control he asked me that question. “Dad, do you think I will have a scar?” I replied back to him, knowing what every young boy wants to hear and said, “Yes, I’m sure you probably will have some type of scar.” He was excited, “Cool, that’s what I want!”. He now has a story to tell.
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