There’s a framed poem that hangs in our home and every once in a while I stop to read it. And as I read, I smile and remember my father-in law. His name was Del, but we called him Stumpy. Stumpy was the father I never had. He was a Godly man who loved the Lord and his family and that included me. Me, a single mother that his son brought home. His good son who was raised in church and probably never did anything bad in his life, brought home a soon to be divorced woman with a small child! Stumpy was my first glimpse of what Jesus must be like. Not once did he ever make me feel “less than”. He loved me unconditionally. He did not judge me, he embraced me. He touched my life so profoundly and I am reminded, that just one touch can change a life forever. Just one touch of the Master’s hand can take someone like me, who felt worthless, and transform them into a masterpiece. And, just one touch from you can give someone in your world a glimpse of Jesus. It only takes, Just One Touch…Have a GREAT week!
Touch of the Master’s Hand
by:Myra Brooks Welch
‘Twas battered and scarred,
And the auctioneer thought it
hardly worth his while
To waste his time on the old violin,
but he held it up with a smile.
“What am I bid, good people”, he cried,
“Who starts the bidding for me?”
“One dollar, one dollar, Do I hear two?”
“Two dollars, who makes it three?”
“Three dollars once, three dollars twice, going for three,”
From the room far back a gray bearded man
Came forward and picked up the bow,
Then wiping the dust from the old violin
And tightening up the strings,
He played a melody, pure and sweet
As sweet as the angel sings.
The music ceased and the auctioneer
With a voice that was quiet and low,
Said “What now am I bid for this old violin?”
As he held it aloft with its’ bow.
“One thousand, one thousand, Do I hear two?”
“Two thousand, Who makes it three?”
“Three thousand once, three thousand twice,
Going and gone”, said he.
The audience cheered,
But some of them cried,
“We just don’t understand.”
“What changed its’ worth?”
Swift came the reply.
“The Touch of the Masters Hand.”
And many a man with life out of tune
All battered with bourbon and gin
Is auctioned cheap to a thoughtless crowd
Much like that old violin
A mess of pottage, a glass of wine,
A game and he travels on.
He is going once, he is going twice,
He is going and almost gone.
But the Master comes,
And the foolish crowd never can quite understand,
The worth of a soul and the change that is wrought
By the Touch of the Masters’ Hand.
Jesus reached out and touched him, saying, “I want to. Be clean.” Then and there, all signs of the leprosy were gone. Jesus said, “Don’t talk about this all over town. Just quietly present your healed body to the priest, along with the appropriate expressions of thanks to God. Your cleansed and grateful life, not your words, will bear witness to what I have done.” (Matthew 8:3, 4 MSG)
Just One Touch by Fellowship Creative