I’ve never been much of a hugger, but it appears that I have adopted three young men that very much need and want to give it. There’s something about their hunger for touch that humbles me and causes me to loosen up a bit. My hugs help them, it appears, and their hugs are therapeutic for me. As a matter of fact, it been scientifically proven that hugs and touch actually relieve stress, blood pressure and allow you to sleep better. Imagine that, God was right when He told us that we should love one another…
More than anything, when my boys know that I am angry, they come to be with open arms for a reaffirming, hug, to be embraced and, somehow, to be reminded that we are still able to “hug”—-regardless of the infraction recently committed. It’s a symbolic of our spiritual predicament: We come to God with arms stretched, as it were, asking Him to hold us tight and cover us with His wings!
The real curse of this virus is that we’re warned to not to hug, shake hands, embrace or express physical affirmation to others. But we need to be touched and to touch. I fear that the constant warning about not touching and keeping our distance, is tantamount to giving up our humanity and function as something less; I believe that many are suffering right now because they are not receiving the touch they desperately need for their emotional and physical well-being.
The Gaithers once sang a song called, “He Touched Me”
He touched, oh, He touched me
And oh the joy that floods my soul!
Something happened, and now I know
He touched me, and made me whole.
The touch of God makes us whole! The touch of one another makes us human…
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