it has been said,
by one much wiser than I,
that the glory of God is seen
when we learn how to touch one another
and so, these are some memories of being touched over these past twelve months -
these are chronologically listed -
each one no more important or less important -
each touch producing life.
a pastor and his wife -
leaving everything in their obedience to God -
paying the cost
Gordon - who so bravely fought, who so graciously brought me alongside and inside as he traveled the shadowy path of dying, who taught me so much about living, whose life was a song too beautiful to be heard for too long.
I miss you Gordon.
I can only imagine your song now
the first feel of my hours old newest grandson
the seventy-four year-old crusty Austrian who grabbed my hand with tears running down his cheeks insisting I tell him of Jesus
the hug of my son just moments before he said "I do"
another pastor, this one harvesting in the middle of nowhere -
a flock of 40 -
so wise -
the One who spoke my name aloud while I was "alone" in the woods
an unsure lonely little boy dressed in a man's body
a friend living on the other side of the mountains
insisting I blog
saying my stumbling words and pondering thoughts are important to him
and there are some others .........
and yet I feel the need to let my words be few
thank you for touching me
and for touching me safely
I love you