He Touched Me - Gloria Guest

I believe in the power of human touch. I didn’t always. Due to my basic personality and childhood trauma, touch was not always comfortable for me, although over the years I’d grown so much in that area. But even now, after being deprived of hugs from acquaintances and friends alike and even family, I’m never going to be one who wants to go around hugging everyone. However, watching the light go out of my granddaughters’ eyes and be replaced with something that looked like a mixture of confusion and hurt, when I pulled away from their offered hugs the first time we saw them right after covid was labeled a ‘pandemic’, was an experience I’ll never forget. The relief I felt when their mom and dad told us to go ahead and give them a hug was palatable. So we did. And we have been ever since. I can sense the judgment. That’s okay. I’ve survived two years of judgments over this subject and was even called the ‘worst grandmother ever’. My grandchildren don’t share that opinion, so I can deal with that nasty remark too. Human beings ‘need’ touch. It’s a proven fact that we do better physically, emotionally, psychologically and yes, spiritually with touch. Jesus reached out to the lepers with touch and I’ve tried to imagine what that must have felt like for them. They had most likely gone years without the touch of another human being. And Jesus touched them! I believe that not only did it bring about their physical healing but that it must have brought a deep emotional and spiritual healing as well. Even while still in the midst of their disease, Jesus was saying that they were worthy to be touched. All through covid, I couldn’t help but imagine what Jesus response to all these ever changing measures, which were imposed on people, would be. I certainly couldn’t envision him in a mask nor could I see him refusing to touch someone, or encouraging his disciples to never touch another. If you can, that’s fine. But I sure can’t. And so, I suppose the silver lining throughout this whole ‘pandemic’ for me has been that I grew exponentially in understanding the power of ‘touch,’ an area of my life that had been damaged so much in the past. It’s just so ironic that it came in at a time when we were being told that all touch was dangerous and to be avoided. God’s healing came to me by continuing to hug my grandchildren and family, using common sense and caution, whilst shutting out the outside voices that thought they had the right to steal that from us. As a result, I held my precious, new born grandson. And I’ve never seen that look of hurt and confusion in my grandchildren’s eyes again. You cannot get time back. You cannot get back those times of bonding that little children need so much. Adults too. Their mom and dad were not allowed to bring the children in to see their great-grandmother as she lived in a nursing home in the community. In fact she was only allowed one family member. And so for the last year and a half of her life she waned away, unconvinced that it wasn’t because we’d all lost interest in her. She went deep into depression and died a year ago this month. That to me was sheer cruelty. As a grandmother myself, I know that I’d much rather put myself in some danger than to not be allowed to see my grandchildren for over a year or more. Death comes in many ways, and not always physically first. Death can come to the soul when one is deprived of the very basic need of touch; of human contact and connection. I have felt through this entire ‘pandemic’ that common sense (the baby) was thrown out with the bathwater and replaced with fear and division and governmental agendas. I for one am glad that our immediate family was able to come together on this subject; to agree on what was healthiest and best for the children in our family, to use caution and common sense as a measuring stick, and to listen to what we felt the heart of God was saying to us. And I am so thankful that God has used this time in my life to bring further healing to me regarding the healing power of touch. Thankful that He touched me.

Pre-Pandemic picture of my granddaughter napping with her great-grandmother. Blessings to you and yours. Gloria blogs and writes from her prairie home in Caron, Sk. Her genres include memoir, fiction, non-fiction, creative non-fiction and poetry. Currently she is working on an illustrated small book including a poem about the province of Saskatchewan that she has come to love, along with taking editing classes from Simon Fraser University.