“And they worshiped him and returned to Jerusalem with great joy.” Luke 24:52
To feel is such a blessing. To touch. To sense the world around us. The cool breeze blowing a lock of hair across your cheek, the hot sun radiating off the sand, slightly burning your bare feet, the icy snowflake landing on the tip of your nose and quickly melting into a small stream that drips to the ground, the soft petal of a vibrantly white daisy rubbed between your finger and thumb as you lazily pluck it from the brightly golden center, the roughness of a cat’s tongue gently brushing against your hand letting you know you are loved.
Of the original twelve, eleven remained. Eleven who had touched the Lord God Almighty. He who was dead and now lives allowed these eleven to touch His holy, wounded hands. The hands that had wholly restored them. The hands that touched a crippled man’s arm, a blind man’s eye lids, a dead girl’s hand. Hands that have touched; hands that have healed. Hands that profoundly touched the lives of the eleven. Hands that have touched your life.
As your hands clung to the rounded contours of your grandfather’s hospital bed, Jesus placed His hand on your shoulder. As you were embraced by your spouse upon learning of your job loss, Jesus also embraced you with open arms. When you felt tears of joy and pride trailing down your cheeks at the birth of your firstborn, Jesus was beaming as He patted your back.
Like nobody else, Jesus accomplishes the solemn oath He has taken on your behalf. Through thick and thin, nobody else is present for us like Jesus. Armoring you against every maliciousness that comes your way, Jesus protects you with His all-powerful hands.
Like nobody else can, the Lord will reach out to touch us, formerly dead as we may be at that time, and welcome us into eternity with Him. Heaven. Like nothing we can imagine. Think of all we will touch . . . and see and smell and taste and hear! All this, our Lord has promised us as He holds us gently in the tender care of His precious hands.
“Your hand, O Lord, in days of old
Was strong to heal and save; It triumphed over ills and death,
O’er darkness and the grave.
To You they came, the blind, the mute,
The palsied and the lame,
The lepers in their misery,
The sick with fevered frame.
“Your touch then, Lord, brought life and health,
Gave speech and strength and sight;
And youth renewed and frenzy calmed
Revealed You, Lord of light.
And now, O Lord, be near to bless,
Almighty as before,
In crowded street, by beds of pain,
As by Gennes’ret’s shore.”
Your Hand, O Lord, in Days of Old (LSB, 846 v 1 & 2)