The Grateful Series: Touching the Heart

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(My hug-friendly family exploring Boston – Summer of 2018)

Luke 8: 42-45…As Jesus was on his way, the crowds almost crushed him. And a woman was there who had been subject to bleeding for twelves years, but no one could heal her. She came up behind him and touched the edge of his cloak, and immediately her bleeding stopped. “Who touched me?” Jesus asked.

This is a great story in Luke’s Gospel. The essential human instinct of reaching out in faith for help. Or love. Or Sympathy. Compassion. In this case, reaching out in faith to be healed. Jesus knew someone had touched him for that reason, because he felt the power go out of him when she touched his cloak. She trembled at his feet explaining why she had done what she did, and how she had been instantly healed. Jesus replied, “Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace.”

We take our sense of touch completely for granted. Many people are without sight or hearing, but nearly everyone alive has the ability to feel…to touch. Even as I type on this MacBook I’m not quite used to working on, my fingertips feel the slight sting as my hands try to keep up with my brain. We spend all day, everyday, processing the sense of touch. Thank you, God, for this miracle you’ve provided.

In Part 5 of this Gratitude Series, here are 5 things that touch my heart, to which I give great thanks to the Lord.

1. Holding Hands with My Daughters. They are 21 (nearly) and 17 now, so it doesn’t happen often these days. But the mental image in my mind of raising them will always be strolling along (anywhere we went) holding their hands. There is magic to that between a parent and child when they hold hands. It doesn’t just provide sense of security and love to the child. The magic flows back into the parent as well. By far, my favorite feeling of touch as a Dad has been holding their hands. The feeling is stored deep in my heart.

2. There are a great many things between a husband and wife that aren’t to be shared in a public forum. Most cherished instances of touch fall into that category. Suffice it to say, they are there with us, too, and they shall go without saying. But the sweetest can certainly be put on record. The feeling of my wife stroking my hair as we sit on the couch watching whatever we may be viewing. I adore that feeling.

3. A sincere and real hug. Without question, I’m a hugging type person. If I like you, it doesn’t matter what gender you are or who you may be, eventually, and probably often, you’ll be hugged by me. There exist several different types of hugs, and it’s a fun thing to Google sometime if you’re interested. But the best are the kind that come with a warm smile and enthusiastic embrace. One of the best huggers I’ve ever met served with me on a praise team for many years. That woman gives great hugs. Nothing weird about it, and no extra implications. She just hugs people for real. That’s a great feeling. My family has always been a group of huggers (as shown above). It means a great deal more than most people ever realize…to be hugged.

4. The sensation of water touching your skin. Getting into a warm shower. A hot tub. Pool. Slipping into a mineral bath in a luxurious spa. Wading into the ocean. There is a sense of home built into our DNA when we enter water (totally made that up but it seems right), and it’s triggered by our sense of touch as the water hits our skin.

5. My drumsticks. They’ve always felt perfectly natural in my hands. As if they were merely an extension of my fingers that my brain instantly controlled. They make reality of the rhythm playing in my mind. I like the smoothness of the wood. The exactness of the weight. I’m not one of those drummers that can do entertaining circus tricks with their drumsticks. That’s not me. I know that it’s showmanship and people enjoy it, but I find it disrespectful to the art. Like a monkey doing tricks at a zoo. My desire is to create music that moves another soul in all the right ways. Drumsticks? Are the tools that make that happen.

Gary Abernathy

 

 

 

Burning Coals

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Proverbs 25: 21-22…”If your enemy is hungry, give him food to eat; if he is thirsty, give him water to drink. In doing this, you will heap burning coals on his head, and the Lord will reward you.”

When God began to in earnest put me in, “God Boot Camp,” as I often describe it to myself, the first place my eyes were taken was the book of Proverbs. They’ve been in Proverbs ever since. Day after day, one each day, a repeating cycle of 31 Proverbs teaching me how to get along with the world as a child of God that doesn’t belong in it. A few things maybe I was doing right before boot camp, but for the most part, I’ve had it all wrong my entire life. None more so than Proverbs 25.

In my worldly mind, my enemy was my enemy, and while be it I’ve never been a particularly vindictive man, I certainly wasn’t going out of my way to help or feel sorry for said enemy. I saw them or it with strictly worldly eyes…only seeing the surface my physical capabilities could take in. Solomon’s wisdom is teaching us here that our enemy is but one thing, and it’s never what we can actually see with our human eyes. It’s the roaring lion, the serpent, it’s…Satan. That’s it.

Recently I was traveling from Florida to North Carolina by car while the ridiculously named, Winter Storm Jonas, was in progress on the entire east coast of the United States. The forecasters got this one right and it was a monster winter storm. With cold air and even snow flurries pushing all the way down to Florida, it was a highly unusual cold and miserable morning in Central Florida. I had stopped to pump gas in a tiny town between Gainesville and Jacksonville, and those of us doing so were not prepared for having to stand out in that while filling our cars. As strangers bonding in a winter-war-like fashion, we were laughing and talking to each other about how crazy it was to be freezing like that in Florida. It took about 3 minutes to fill a nearly empty tank. Then we got back in our warm cars. “Oh, how they suffered,” maybe Jesus said with sarcastic humor. I kept moving up the road until I came to Baldwin, Florida, which is where this journey would connect with I-10 East. I’ve traveled this road so many times I could do it blindfolded, and I know full well that the interstate entrance ramp at this particular junction is one of the busiest in the state. There are several truck stops off the exit, so getting on I-10 here is usually a lengthy wait. Because of this, the homeless and poor use that fact to make this a prime panhandling spot.

Due to the terrible weather and it being a Saturday morning, traffic was unusually light. Yet, as I approached the traffic light and entrance ramp, per usual there stood a panhandler. By his side was pit bull mix dog just sitting there in the cold by his friend, with a somewhat determined look on his dog face. As I got closer I noticed this guy was not your standard issue appearing panhandler. He was young, his face didn’t look like a baseball glove, and he at least didn’t appear to be to mentally unstable. What he did appear to be was very cold, as well he should have been. He had a smile and a cardboard sign promoting whatever the reason was he wanted a handout. I didn’t even read it. But I did notice he had his teeth still. Pretty rare in this situation.

The typical worldly reaction in that scenario is to think or say, “Look at this clown, out here begging for other people’s hard earned money, instead of working for it himself.” I’ve said that same thing many times in my life. But I didn’t say that this time, nor did I think it. God was bee lining me right to him. What I was thinking was Proverbs 25. There is my enemy. There stands Satan. Not the young man, not his dog friend, but the things I couldn’t see with my physical eyes. The reasons that put him standing there in the cold that morning for me to come upon. The things that were separating him from God. What am I to do? Heap burning coals on the head of my enemy.

Because there was nobody else there in that moment, I was able to stop in the turn lane, roll my window down, and engage him more than to just toss a dollar at him. He was surprisingly upbeat and friendly. We laughed about the cold and I encouraged him to quickly get out of it. I handed him more money than he would ever expect to get from me, and it lit him up with God’s glory. “Thank you! We (the dog) can go back to our tent and we’re staying in there the rest of the day.” He blessed ME first…both verbally and by his reaction. “Like cold water to a weary soul is good news from a distant land.” Proverbs 25:25. He embodied that verse entirely. God allowed me to be the good news that morning. But both of us rejoiced. We then told each other that God loves the other. Then off I went to continue my journey up the road.

Our enemy we are fighting is not the living thing God has sent us to engage…to be his light for. It’s the things Satan has used to put them there and to keep them held down in his dominion of bleak hopelessness. This is why we are not to judge less we be judged. It’s a very difficult lesson to learn. The world will never teach you that. Ever.

Who do you view as your enemies in life? What do you see in them? How do you react and engage? Chances are, it’s all wrong, and that’s why nothing is changing or getting better. Blessings are not flowing. I’m learning this lesson each day by God’s grace. Why? Because the Holy Spirit is my leader, my teacher, and my friend…nothing else will do. Jesus Christ is my salvation and hope. God is my father and I call him such.

Go to your knees in prayer and ask for the Spirit to teach you how to live for his glory. Your worldview will never again be the same.

Gary Abernathy

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