Stretch forth your hand

Adolf Hitler, the former Germany Nazi leader, was not just nuts but a nerd too. He was a nut for he some times succeeded in nabbing the peace the whole world had enjoyed and nutmegged it through the feet of sobriety and somberness into the nuthouse of Nazi. He was a nerd for he single-handedly neutralised the Germany people’s mental faculties with a sheer appeal to jingoism. This was a terrible miscible mishap.

It is awfully destructive when maniacs adopt nativistic tendencies and nurture them to look natural and resemble nationalism. For some time it appeared the man was the invincible fat cat of Bavaria. But as time went by, it became evident that he was the fat dormice of Berlin. Perhaps the only difference between him and the adder is that he struck with malice.

The fist clenched hand

Dr Abraham Lieberman, a US neurologist, studied the life of Adolf Hitler and came up with intriguing findings. Lieberman tells us that the iniquitous Germany Fuhrer suffered from Parkinson disease in his twilight years. This made him experience decreased and slowed movement in his left arm. It was discernible whenever he appeared in the morning to address the Nazi Party Congress, and it became most apparent as the day progressed into the afternoon. According to Lieberman, this is a typical sign of Parkinson disease.

A separate study conducted by a team of researchers at the University of Pittsburgh arrived at the same conclusions. Its findings were consequently published in a medical journal, World Neurosurgery. In the study, official records, photographs, film footage and written accounts about Hitler’s behaviour, mannerisms and actions were reviewed.

The researchers claimed that Hitler’s motor function deteriorated over time, and he suffered from a severe tremor in both hands. This was arrived at after analysing his video footage through the last 10 to 12 years of his life.

In commiseration but at the same time hilariously, we can say that Hitler’s inability to stretch out his hands towards allied forces and other perceived enemies resulted in untold human sufferings ever recorded in annals of history.

Somebody touched me

I fondly remember my Nursery school teacher. Her name was Rose. Not only did Teacher Rose teach us Alphabet and Vowels in dexterity and temerity, but also a good number of Christian hymns and rhymes. It was not just a matter of loading the head but also the heart. Someone has said that the longest distance in the world is between the mind and the heart. I vividly remember several songs she would help us through till they stuck like a barnacle.

Can you remember some of your junior school rhymes?

‘Somebody touched me’ was one of her favourite songs. It got etched in the deepest part of my heart too. My search has revealed that the song was recorded several decades ago by the Stanley Brothers.

While I was praying (somebody touched me)

 While I was praying (somebody touched me)

 While I was praying (somebody touched me)

 Must’ve been the hand of the Lord

 Glory glory glory somebody touched me

 Glory glory glory somebody touched me

 Glory glory glory somebody touched me

 Must’ve been the hand of the Lord

 While I was singing (somebody touched me)

 While I was singing (somebody touched me)

 While I was singing (somebody touched me)

 Must’ve been the hand of the Lord

 While I was preaching (somebody touched me)

 While I was preaching (somebody touched me)

 While I was preaching (somebody touched me)

 Must’ve been the hand of the Lord

It was delightful to learn that somebody could touch me as I praised, as I preached, as I sang praises, as I prayed, as I slept.

As I became of age, I realised that it was not always about God touching us. The other side of the coin required us touching God and other human beings.

Luke 8:43-48 recount an event of the miraculous healing of a woman with the issue of the blood. This woman had a twelve-year medical condition that was so stubborn that no medical practitioner could cure it. She ended up spending her fortunes in the name of looking for a cure. The widely sought after therapy slipped through her fingers like jellyfish.

This woman must have gathered a mountain of courage to approach Jesus and touch her garment, considering the prevailing mosaic laws that outlawed such behaviours. It took courage and faith to break through artificial walls of separations. Faith and courage co-exist. They work together like a brother and a sister. They form a powder keg that can render the Himalayan flat.

It makes sense to recognise that there is

a time when Jesus touches us, and there is

A time when we must touch Him. There is

a time when we wait on God, and there is

a time when God whispers in our ears,

‘I am waiting for you.’

The woman was physically worn out, socially out of favour, and spiritually washed-out. However, she did not wait for Jesus to touch her. She purposed to take the risk and the struggle to touch Jesus. Her miracle docked in when she thought to herself ‘If I just touch his clothes, I will be healed’. She waded through the crowd that was swarming around Jesus and strengthened herself to touch Jesus’ garment. Instantly Jesus noticed that someone had decisively touched him, as He could tell the difference between those who brushed against him accidentally and those who touched Him intentionally.

We can learn to touch Jesus calculatedly. We don’t have to master His routes to muster the courage to waylay Him like the woman in the story. He is Omnipresent. He is everywhere at the same time. We can sing hymns and praises even in pain; pray without ceasing; serve without grumbling and take leaps of faith without fear.

God is waiting for us. He is waiting for us to touch Him. Perhaps you are waiting on a God who is already waiting for you.

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