THE TOUCH OF THE MASTER'S HAND

I cannot tell you the exact year, or who the pastor was at the time, but as the staff counselor at Calvary Assembly in Winter Haven, Florida I was once party to a unique experience. (I ultimately served that church for a decade and a half, during the tenure of four successive pastors. Ultimately, I was the longest-lived staff person ever).

A visiting evangelist, a friend of the then pastor, had been “contracted” to preach a weekly series of sermons, and had just finished his last message. “Rev. Smith,” (for lack of a specific name) called the congregation forward to send “Rev. Jones” off on his impending journey; (to wherever his destiny was taking him).

Twenty or thirty of us encircled the good preacher, and as is the tendency among Christians, (since we couldn’t all actually touch the evangelist,) we each stretched out an arm, (with the adjacent hand attached) and laid that five fingered bit of flesh on the shoulder of the person in front of us. As I recall, the minister invited us to verbalize our own prayer at that moment. Even before the congregational prayer began, I sensed someone’s hand on my own shoulder, and thought nothing of it.

As my teammates’ prayers subsided, Bro. Smith instructed us to return to our seats for a moment, since he had some parting words for us. Something, however, was different than any other time I had stood in a similar gathering of prayer warriors. Whoever stood behind me had obviously failed to heed the pastor’s instructions. For you see, the hand remained on my shoulder. As the crowd dispersed back to their seats, and it was time for me to do likewise, I almost dreaded to do a similar “180.” (Who, or what would I find behind me)? Something was obviously amiss.

I finally turned to face my “prayer partner,” but

… there was no one there!

However, the sensation of that hand, the obvious weight of that invisible appendage, remained on my shoulder. Amazed, (for lack of a better word) I walked back to my pew and sat down; (perhaps 10 ounces heavier than when I had first walked to the front of the sanctuary).

It was then that Bro. Smith made some closing remarks, and “benedicted” us to “outer darkness.” As my wife and I stood, and made our way towards the lobby, and drifted out one of the four glass doors, the sensation of that invisible, ethereal hand walked out the door with me; (“and would not let me go.”)

It was only after Jean and I slid into the front seat of our vehicle that I made her aware of “the latest development,” (and quite a development it was)!

“Uh, something very strange is going on, and I’m not sure exactly how to explain it. (But here goes”). I don’t recall my exact words. (After all these years, however, I recall the exact feeling).

Well, my readers, the additional weight I had gained in the past quarter hour “walked” into my front door with me, and the weight of the hand was present as I slumped into my easy chair. It was only after arriving home, and “settling in” for a few minutes that the sensation of that unseen, localized presence on my left shoulder lifted.

My friends, I cannot begin to tell you at this writing exactly why God, (since I have no doubt whatever that it was God) decided that I needed a tangible touch on that particular evening, or why He chose to literally reach out and touch me, when I had never been touched before, (or since) in such a manner.

Upon reflection, (and I have reflected upon the event many times over the years) I have determined that this miracle, (for that is what it was) was for a purpose, (as all miracles obviously are). While a counselor at the church in which the experience occurred, I was extraordinarily busy, sometimes seeing twenty and twenty five cases a week. And all the while, (like all those who minister to other human beings) I had my own “stuff” going on.

And since our God is the great “I AM,” Jehovah of the past, present and future, He knew that my wife and I were about to encounter a season of what has been for us a myriad of the most challenging and negative of personal events and experiences.

As not only a counselor, but a mentor, I offer a formal program of preparation and discipleship to young adults on the verge of assuming their own ministries or helping vocations. And one of our studies involves the presence of Miracles in the lives of God’s people.

As we consider together the story I have just shared, I experienced my own personal miracle that night, and God has been graceful to lend many other personal miracles to me over the years. Here I use the term “lend,” since in a very tangible way, He has loaned these miracles to me, so that I might share them with others, as I have you today.

The foregoing experience, and others like it have reaffirmed my faith in the presence of God, and His Son, Jesus Christ. And beyond the simple affirmation of my faith which accompanied these miracles, has also come encouragement; encouragement that our Lord, in all his foreknowledge, of all my wife and I would shortly encounter, was gracious to bestow upon us.

Do you recall that old poem, that old song, “The Touch of the Master’s Hand”? Well, I not only recall the words and the melody, but I have experienced the touch of the Master’s hand in a way that neither pen, nor tongue can hope to tell.

by William McDonald, PhD. Copyright pending

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