The Power of Touch

I can still see my head lying in her lap. Seven years worth of long hair toppled over my shoulders. She’d brush it aside and then gently…oh, so gently, take a fork and trace it along my scalp. It made me sleepy. It made me tingle. More than anything, it made me feel loved.

My mother only “forked” my hair a handful of times. Her own hands were far too busy cooking, cleaning and doing outside chores. But there was something in her touch that touched so much more than my head.

She touched my heart.

Isn’t it funny how such a small act can leave such huge impression? I guess that explains my surprise when I opened the teal envelope mixed in with bills and statements.

The name on the return address didn’t register. I knew the first name but not the last. And then I remembered. She was a beautiful young girl that attended church youth group when Doc and I were sponsors. “This must be her married name” I thought.

As I read the note my chin started to tremble. She told me that in a recent church service her Pastor had encouraged the congregation to think about who was in their “Faith Hall of Fame.” You know the reference…”so great a cloud of witnesses” from the book of Hebrews. She went on to say that the message made her think of me. I was one of the people that had influenced her life. And then she asked, “Do you remember when you would fork my hair?”

Oh. My. Goodness.

My brain started firing as memories began to flash. I recalled a gaggle of girls on a hotel bed (we had taken the kids to a youth convention). I must have rounded up a plastic fork. While stories were told and giggles exchanged I forked hair.

Imagine that…the power of a plastic fork.

Is there someone that needs your touch today?

My letter prompted me to think about where I need to “take my fork”. As I contemplate who needs my touch I’m reminded how incapable I am to meet the needs of others without Him touching me first. In case you feel the same, here’s a song that boosts me!

“Our beloved Father, please come down and meet us, we are waiting on your touch…”

Your (fork carrying) DoAhead Friend,