A Single Touch

October 23, 2025

A Single Touch

October 23, 2025

A Single Touch

A young lady named Kiley leaped at the chance to go to a remote area of East Africa to assist a medical mission, yet she felt uneasy. She didn’t have any medical experience. Still, she could provide basic care. While there, she met a woman with a horrible but treatable disease. The woman’s distorted leg repulsed her, but Kiley knew she had to do something. As she cleaned and bandaged the leg, her patient began crying. Concerned, Kiley asked if she was hurting her.

“No,” she replied. “It’s the first time anyone has touched me in nine years.”

Leprosy is a disease that can render its victims repulsive to others, and ancient Jewish culture had strict guidelines to prevent its spread: “They must live alone,” the law declared. “They must live outside the camp” (Lev. 13:46). That’s why it’s so remarkable that a leper approached Jesus and said, “Lord, if you are willing, you can make me clean” (Matt. 8:2). “Jesus reached out his hand and touched the man. ‘I am willing,’ he said. ‘Be clean!’” (v. 3).

In touching a lonely woman’s diseased leg, Kiley began to show the fearless, bridge-building love of Jesus. A single touch made a world of difference.

Touchables

I rarely ask people to make—and keep—promises, but I’d like that to change today.

The most marginalized segment of society is the elderly. It’s likely you’ll feel the inclination to start tapering away from this subject the longer this blog goes on. In modern society, our DNA appears ingrained to drive past dozens of extended care facilities every day, unaware of who’s inside—ringing familiar to Jeremiah, who lamented: “Is it nothing to you, all you who pass by?”

This is not to shame anyone, but we need to do better. I believe you and your family can do better.

I bet your church gives you opportunities to go on mission trips, or ways you can serve in the inner city, or feed those in need—all of which are commendable. But one common denominator exists among them: those serving might very well receive some type of earthly payback or recognition down the road. For example:

  • Let’s say the kid you mentor as a big sister graduates as class valedictorian. If so, it’s likely kudos in her speech will come your way.
  • Or the lady you led to Christ during a mission trip. What if you learned years later she entered full-time ministry?

Such rewards or recognition are amazing—as long as you and I redirect them back to the Lord. But ministering to the elderly? No such future payback or reward can be expected.

It begs the question: Are we more inclined to sign up for things where the left hand has a hint of what the right hand is doing? Do you lean toward service opportunities where future dividends might be paid out?

What if a handful of Christians served in capacities where the only foreseeable benefit would come after they die?

The Most Caring Child

Author and lecturer Leo Buscaglia once talked about a contest he was asked to judge. The purpose of the contest was to find the most caring child.

The winner was a four-year-old boy whose next-door neighbor was an elderly gentleman who lived alone. He had recently lost his wife. Upon seeing the man cry, the little boy went into the old gentleman's yard, climbed onto his lap, and just sat there.

When his mother asked what he had said to the neighbor, the little boy replied, “Nothing. I just helped him cry.”


All I’m asking is this: with Halloween around the corner, take 30 minutes with your kids decked out in their costumes to go visit and love on residents at a local nursing home. Children absolutely love family traditions! I’m willing to bet they’ll be the ones reminding you to do it again next year. Promise me you’ll do it. It’s as simple as a quick call to the front desk.

Go ahead—hand out candy, tell them Jesus loves them, and above all, please read this next part slowly so you can take it in: stop and touch them. Hold their hands. Kiss their cheeks. A single touch makes a world of difference.

I’ll go ahead and tell you what to expect: rather than brushing you away, they’re going to cling to you, latch on, draw you closer, and not want you to leave. You mark my word—I guarantee it’ll happen.

Chances are, they haven’t received human affection from a non-family member or nurse in years. And when you give it, you know what? It’ll make you and your kids look a lot more like our Savior Jesus. It truly will, I promise.