That Loving Touch

Having been here in Florida all week, I’ve been having a great time getting acquainted with grandchild #11 – Baby Nelson Aaron. So far, at twelve days old, he’s proven to be a mellow little fellow. Coming fifth in his family line-up, he’s going to be raised in a pack of lively siblings and will one day know how to hold his own. But for now, like all newborns, he’s completely helpless.

Touches from IsaacOne of the things he can’t regulate is the flood of love pouring over him from the other children. Each of the baby’s siblings relates to their new little brother in different ways. But one thing they all have in common is wanting to touch him — kisses on the head, pats on the tummy, strokes on the hair, pokes, and taps.

Though Baby Nelson generally bears up well, he does have a limit. “Enough already,” he says, by way of a pinched face. “No more.” It’s then that Linnea puts a halt to any further “loving” touches on easy-going Nellie.

Touches from SkylarThe baby’s objection to those generous touches reminds me of how I sometimes respond to God’s touch. Though he loves me with unfailing love – always and ever – sometimes I object to how it feels.

For example, he might touch me with a sadness of heart for a friend in crisis, coaxing me to get involved. That, in turn, might lead to a broken heart as I get deeper into her situation.

He might withhold a good opportunity I desperately want, even need, because the right timing hasn’t yet come.

He might allow a trial that feels like too much to handle, because he knows I’ll move closer to him as a result, maybe even be a good example of how to endure.

GetAttachment[1]All of these things are motivated solely by his love, coming by way of specifically chosen circumstances, which translates to divine touches. We might say, “How about feeling a divine touch with a few unexpected checks in the mail or euphoria in every relationship?” And sometimes those things do happen. But we usually scrunch up when his touches feel too rough or too abrupt.

C. S. Lewis wrote, “We are not necessarily doubting that God will do the best for us; we are wondering how painful the best will turn out to be.”

But that’s the undercard of God’s true love. He doesn’t want us to doubt that he loves us dearly, but he wants us to also acknowledge that painful experiences can be initiated by his love, too. If we, like Baby Nelson, scrunch up our faces and tell God “enough already,” he’ll continue loving us – always and ever – but might withdraw the perfect chance for us to love him back.

The Touchers

But if we love the Lord, we’ll accept his touches for better or for worse. And in the end, we’ll find out that it all lined up under unfailing love.

Though he brings grief, he will show compassion, so great is his unfailing love. (Lamentations 3:32)

Jack’s Lament

It’s been nearly a year since I posted as a guest blogger on Midge’s site, but I have an important reason for wanting to write tonight.

IMG_0891Because I turned 13 in October, I am now 91 years old – and feeling my age. Like many 90-somethings, I can’t hear very well and no longer notice when someone raps on the door. The vet told Midge I have cataracts in both eyes, and one eye has a small tumor under the lid, keeping it in a constant state of irritation.

But my biggest problem is a degenerative spinal disease that causes me pain, along with arthritis that has literally frozen my back leg joints. Going up stairs is almost impossible, and I don’t like it when Midge tries to help by lifting my rear – it just hurts too much. With such bad hip dysplasia, my whole back end is in crisis.

I also have a skin disease that causes me to lose hair in big splotches, exposing raw irritation. The hair does grow back, but the infection just moves elsewhere. My heavy panting is always a problem, even in the cooler weather. And to top it all off, I’ve got a belly filled with something called fat tumors, some the size of golf balls, others like baseballs. One of those tumors near my shoulder is responsible for my limp.

And then of course there’s my doggie dementia, which I wrote about earlier. It keeps me confused and wondering what’s coming next, which isn’t a good feeling.

You blog readers have always been kind to me. That’s why I wanted to write you tonight. You see, this might be my last post.

TiredI know Midge has been agonizing about what to do with me, since she is about to leave town for quite a while and knows I’ll be searching for her every day. But I’m not the least bit worried. She shouldn’t worry, either. My life is happy and full of love, and all along, I’ve felt God’s hand of blessing on me.

A hearty thanks to you, cyber-friends, for being so good to me. And now it’s time for another deep, snoring sleep on my comfy bed.

Night-night….

God made the animals…. and saw that it was good. (Genesis 1:25)

God’s Object Lesson

In the last blog I described a botched opportunity to do a random act of kindness for a needy lady, but God didn’t let me forget it. He repeatedly bothered my conscience till I knew I’d have to do something to make up for my poor choice.

The next morning a handful of us were seated at a restaurant having breakfast, so I planned to tell the group of my fail, and ask for input.

GiftAs I waited for the right moment, a stranger broke into our conversation, arriving at our table with a beautifully wrapped package. He walked up to Emerald and handed the gift to her as if he’d planned it for weeks. “Here you go, little girl. Merry Christmas!” Immediately afterwards, he hurried away.

Assuming it was the restaurant manager giving gifts to all young patrons, we questioned our waitress when she returned. “Did you see that?”

“Yes,” she said. “Interesting.”

“Is he part of the restaurant staff?”

“I’ve never seen him.”

Charlie Brown Christmas book.Emerald opened her present (wrapped in paper decorated on both sides) to find a 9” X 12” book – Merry Christmas Charlie Brown. And then it hit me. God was demonstrating what he’d wanted me to do the day before, by allowing me to experience the warm feeling of being surprised with an unexpected gift. As we were saying, “Wow! Can you believe this?” God was saying, “That’s what I had in mind for the Walmart lady. Understand?”

And I did. But there was more.

As our eggs and pancakes arrived, I told my family the story of the Walmart lady, expressing sadness that I hadn’t responded to God’s prompt.

“Maybe you should respond now then,” Nelson said.

“How?”

“See that guy over there?” he said, pointing to a man eating alone across the room. “Why don’t you pay for his breakfast?”

When our waitress returned, I asked if she could put his meal on our bill without letting him know who paid. “No problem,” she said. “Glad to help.”

CouponBut God wasn’t finished. When our server brought the bill she said, “Your breakfast will be 25% off this morning. That couple over there gave me a coupon to apply to your meal.” It was Ann, a local bank teller, having breakfast with her husband.

The Lord was creatively driving home his point about giving to others without counting the cost. But he wasn’t done even yet.

When I looked at the bill and its 25% discount, the extra meal we bought totaled less than the discount we received. So even after our gift of a free breakfast, we were going to leave the restaurant with a gain. The only thing to do was give it away– and we joyfully left a 50% tip for our waitress.

But God had one final comment to make. Our food plus tax added up to $46.10 – a familiar number. “Hey,” I said. “Isn’t that an important Bible reference?”

“You’re probably thinking of Psalm 46:10,” Nelson said. “ ‘Be still and know that I am God.’