[just the touch of Your hand]

When we brought our group of 15 students and 8 staff to volunteer at a children's daycare in the heart of Oakland, I just assumed we'd be babysitting for an afternoon, that we would just be volunteering time and man-power-- which was fine with me. I had no idea how much it would affect me and break my heart.

You see, my childhood is full of memories of piggy-back rides around the house, goodnight kisses on the forehead, holding hands while walking across the street; I've always known what it feels like to feel safe in the arms of my parents, to reach for the hands that protect. (Thanks, Mom and Dad :0). I realized yesterday afternoon how much of a blessing it is to have grown up in that environment.

We brought our group to Harbor House, a holistic ministry that ministers to high-risk households in inner-city Oakland, which provides spiritual, physical, economic, and educational help and development. Our job was to help out with their kids' summer program, which includes children from kindergarten up to junior high. Before interacting with the kids, we were briefed on how most of these children come from high-risk households and most likely don't receive a lot of positive physical contact with adults.

Our liaison told us: "Don't be afraid to hold them, to carry them-- just love on them. They need it; they crave it. Hold their hands. Let them know what healthy, loving, positive touch looks and feels like."

At first, I thought to myself, "These kid don't even know us and they seem pretty shy. I doubt that they'll want anything to do with us." The next thing I knew, the stoic nine-year-old girl at my side with curly brown hair and light hazel eyes uncrossed her arms and slipped her little hand into mine. I just about melted away right then and there.

Like a long line of little ants, we made our way-- all 70 or 80 of us staff and children together-- up to the Bella Vista Park, our field-trip destination. After running around and playing some games (a hectic round of freeze tag included), we just spent our time bonding with the kids at the park. Before I knew it, I had a little girl sitting in my lap, a different girl holding each of my hands, and two more putting little braids in my hair to match theirs. And while we played and giggled together, it was in the still moments that I looked in their eyes and saw a hunger for love, for attention-- to be seen, and heard, and valued. I was glad that, even if only for an afternoon, I could be a glimpse of God's heart towards them.

We came home last night and had a guest speaker, Doug Schindler, speak to us about "The Touch of Jesus," which chronicles each event of Christ reaching out and touching people. As I poured over these different events, I realized that Christ never had to use touch to get His point across. He never had to lay a finger on the sick, the blind, and the dead in order to heal them. He never had to take children in His arms to bless them. He never had to take Peter by the hand to keep him from sinking amidst the waves. But He did. He made it a point to be personal, to tend His sheep, to reach out a hand to His children. I wonder if it was because He saw that same look in their eyes that I saw in those kids yesterday.

And when I think more about it, I realize that the Lord has always been reaching out to His creation, ever since the beginning of the world. He has always made the first move to have a relationship with us-- to reach out and form us, to send down His son for us. It blows my mind.

Lord, You have always reached out to touch us,

to treat us with loving-kindness.

Please help me and my team communicate

this personal gospel to the world.