Photo and Commentary ©2024 by Shelley Schurch
Sunday, March 3, 2024
How I love to feast my eyes on color, including the variety of colors in a meal before I literally feast on it. And what a relief and joy to relax into all the healing blues and greens of God’s Creation. Both of my older sisters are accomplished seamstresses, and while visiting their homes I always liked to spend time in their sewing rooms. Each of them had a special closet whose shelves were filled with beautiful stashes of fabric, ready to be transformed by their talented fingers into wearable works of art.
In humble contrast I bring you a photo of three of my belongings; I did not create any of them. I love their colors, but I love, just as much (although I find it hard to measure love) their touch.
The top item is a sweater, soft and nubby. The bottom item, looking almost like a shadow, is a dark blue blanket. I think it’s the softest fabric I’ve ever had the privilege to smooth my hands over, and so I often do. The colorful blouse in the middle is very lightweight, and soft in a silky, slip-through-your-fingers fashion.
I took this photo a few weeks ago as a farewell to the blouse. It was not a good fashion choice and fit for me; I was drawn in (a more dignified way of saying I was sucked in) by both its color and feel. Someone else can better benefit by both. I will keep its sight but lose its touch, except in my imagination.
I like to use my imagination when I read, putting all my senses into play. It makes whatever I’m reading come alive for me. I find it especially rewarding when I read my Bible, helping me step into the pages and experience what I’m reading.
Think about Jesus when He walked this planet. From the first warm, close embrace of His mother at birth, to the searing pain of the nails in His hands and feet and the crown of thorns pressed into His head as He died, He felt it all.
He had been so liberal with His love, healing and touching those others considered untouchable, unworthy of healing. He touched the eyes of the blind, the deformities and sores of lepers, the coffin of a young man, and all these people and many more were made whole and healthy.
From the beginning chapters of Genesis, trying to imagine what Eden was like, to the last chapters of Revelation, loving to imagine what Heaven will be like, we can think of the sights, sounds, smells, tastes, and touches involved.
What do you imagine touching in Heaven? The streets of gold? Flowers that will never fade? Animals that do not shy away in fear?
Or maybe you think first of family and friends, reuniting with overflowing happiness and hugs, knowing there will never again be a good-bye – you will never again be out of touch.
Or do you think of what is almost unimaginable — touching your Best Friend and Saviour, tracing the scars of sacrifice in His hands, even hugging Him with inexpressible gratitude?
One of the memories I keep close to my heart from stories my mother told me, when the two of us would find ourselves at home with time to reminisce, was about the first time she was away from home for a few days as a young mother, with her first-born child many miles away. She said, “I couldn’t wait to get home to hold her again. It was like my arms were hungry to reach out to her.”
I love that picture of her love. Reaching out in longing for that familiar touch of her beloved child.
I picture Jesus waiting with a similar hunger to welcome us Home. For reasons we cannot fathom, He calls us His beloved children and longs for us to be with Him.
As we step out into this brand-new week, we can trust and rest in that love.