30 Days of Touching

Day 8: Removing Obstacles

Today, I wore a sweater with sleeves that extend beyond my fingertips. The arms are belled and have a fringed edge. (Groovy, right?) I like the sweater, but it bugged me how often I had to roll the sleeves up and down to get anything done. When I washed my hands, put my arm in my coat, or typed on my computer, I first had to roll up my sleeves to get them out of the way. This necessity made me realize how wonderful it is to have hands and fingers with which to touch. Rolling up and rolling down would be impossible without my dexterous digits!

I also thought about how, before I can make progress in other areas of my life, I often have to remove obstacles in the way. My sleeves, though perhaps clever fashion, just don’t work when it comes to doing normal chores. Too much stuff, too much planned, too much on my mind gets in the way of being fruitful and living life to its fullest. The writer of Hebrews speaks of it this way: "let us strip off every weight that slows us down, especially the sin that so easily trips us up"in order to live purposefully. (Hebrews 12:1)

Here are some questions for spiritual direction:

• What is getting in the way of me accomplishing my dreams and desires?
• How can I remove this hindrance?
• What do I spend too much time fussing with?
  

30 Days of Touching

Day 7: Breaking Bread

We just came home from meeting with our house church. (For those who wonder, it’s the name we give to small groups at Trinity Church.) We always share a meal —or “break bread” together. Tonight, our host made an amazing Tomato Basil Soup, I brought salad, and two others brought bread.

For us, breaking bread is a bonding experience. The act of sharing a meal, one that is prepared by all, brings us together. Our hands have touched the food we share: sliced and diced, measured and seasoned, sautéed and stirred. When we eat it, we are nourished by one another.

Several times throughout the meal, someone would slice a piece of bread from one of the large loaves in the center of the table. I watched as the slices were cut and passed and the loaf disappeared. I held my slice, dipped it in oil, and thoroughly enjoyed the soft, dense texture of home baked bread.

Wonderful community happened around these loaves of bread. Tonight was especially sweet. We had guests—a delightful couple and a young, courageous African woman. (She has come to the U.S. to seek political asylum.) I don’t know that we would be as comfortable with each other if we didn’t take time to break bread. I hope you are finding time to do the same with a few people you enjoy.

30 Days of Touching

Day 6: Life with Bongo—a Touching Story

At 6:35 am, our alarm clock sounded. Not the one in front of our bed, but the four-legged, fur-coated one. I lay in a twilight sleep as the sound of his padding up the stairs woke me. He rounded the bed to David’s side, jumped up, put his paws on the bed and poked his snout at David’s sleeping face. (Can you tell who gets up first each morning?)

After a concerted attempt to dissuade him, David got up and began his ritual of feeding Bongo and making coffee. Once Bongo had his breakfast and outside bathroom break, he bounded back up the stairs and plopped on the end of the bed, across my feet. I tried to dislodge him, but he thought better of it.

I came downstairs and curled up on the sofa, my mind on “screen-savor,” sipping coffee and slowly coming to. Bongo joined me. He curled his body next to mine as I pet him, stroking his soft, luxurious fur and rubbing his ears. We continued like this for a good hour—with me, every so often, running my fingers through his silky-smooth fur and caressing his adorable face.

In my opinion, petting a dog is one of the most delightful, consoling experiences in our lives! I pet Bongo, in part, because he has the most amazingly soft coat. (He is an Australian shepherd—a black tri-colored.) I love the way he feels. In fact, I can’t keep my hands off him; he is so sensational to touch. I also pet Bongo because he likes to be petted. I enjoy watching him enjoy being stroked.

In terms of how touching Bongo enhances or augments my spiritual life—I’m not sure of the connection. All I can say is that I am sure glad God made dogs! It’s one of life’s best pleasures, to have a dog to love and be loved by.

How about you? Have you pet your dog today?

30 Days of Touching

Day 5—Joining Hands

This morning, I visited with my oldest brother in the hospital, right before he had his gall bladder removed. Even though the surgery is a common procedure, it’s still nerve-wracking to go through something like this. I could see apprehension and fear on Bruce’s face. My instinctive response was to ask if I could pray.

Two of his friends were there. So, I leaned over and held Bruce’s hand and one of his friend’s hand, who held the other friend’s hand. Instantly, a circle of prayer was formed—made through the joining of hands.

The impulse to join hands speaks of our desire to be united, especially when facing something that makes us feel small and feeble. The impulse to join hands says, “We are in this together—nobody has to face their troubles alone.” The impulse to join hands reaffirms that though we feel weak alone, we feel stronger when we’re together.

I will remember that moment of joining hands—of touching—as a moment of grace and a very good thing to do.

With whom do you need to join hands?

30 Days of Touching

Day 4: Worry Stone

Snowed in, I spent the day working from home, enclosed all around in a lovely winter wonderland. We have at least six inches of powder covering the ground, icing the tree branches and covering the bird feeders. Our little feathered friends might not feel as jubilant as I do about this frosty blanket.

This afternoon, I sat down for an hour and did some reading. I noticed how, involuntarily, I began to fiddle with my hair. I do this thing, especially now that my hair is longer, where I take a strand and twist it. I have always played with my hair. I always played with my kid’s hair. In fact, even my son had a thing for hair. Whenever I held him, he would reach for my hair and rub it between his fingers.

Why do I do that? Why do babies rub the edges of their blanket or the fur off their teddy bears? It seems to be a form of self-comfort. Something about twiddling my hair between my fingers is soothing to me.

That brings to mind a gift David gave me during college. He gave me a “worry stone” before I left for a summer in Europe to study music. The polished stone had an indentation in the middle and the idea was to rub it when you felt anxious about something. I kept it in my pocket and held it whenever I felt uneasy as I flew for hours across the Atlantic Ocean.

In the last few years, I have grown to appreciate other tactile experiences that help me be comforted by God. Holding a smooth, wooden cross and rubbing it; lighting a candle and watching it as I pray; holding a cup in my hand as a symbol of my life and asking God to fill it—all help bring the comfort and presence of God home to me through the sense of touch.

Would you be willing to try a new tactile spiritual practice?

Here’s an idea to explore during prayer:

Paul tells us in Philippians 4:6, 7, “Don’t worry about anything; instead, pray about everything. Tell God what you need and thank him for all he has done. Then you will experience God’s peace, which exceeds anything we can understand. His peace will guard your hearts and minds as you live in Christ Jesus.”

During a time of prayer, take a smooth stone in your hand and hold it. Then, think about the things that worry you. As something comes to mind, rub the stone. Pray and tell God what you need and rub the worry away. Thank God for what he has done and will do in regard to your concern. Receive his peace.