I find it amazing how God uses ordinary situations to grip our hearts and teach us what He’s really like. Facing one of those times this week was a life-changing event. God reminded me what He really wanted from His people.
Rising early in the morning, I had prepared myself for the day. Along with shaving the collection of stubble from my back, I also made sure that my head was shaven closely. It was as smooth as the proverbial baby’s backside. Since I have been spending more time in the sun, it also was slightly tanned and rather shiny. I was definitely having a good scalp day.
During service, I made eye contact with a small boy seated with his mother in front of me. He would look at me and give me the biggest toothy grin. The young Hispanic boy, whom I later found out was named Caesar, kept staring at me in wonder. No one ever stares at me that way. Chuckling to myself, I wondered what was it about me that kept drawing him back.
At the conclusion of service, the congregation, including myself, was kneeling in prayer. I knelt there, organizing my thoughts, just beginning to pray. My prayer was disturbed somewhat by a feather-light touch on top of my head. Opening my eyes, I saw little Caesar sitting on the floor next to me, starting transfixed, eyes focused on my smooth bald head.
I smiled at him and returned to my praying. There it was again, that gently brush on my head of very small fingertips. Opening my eyes again, I saw Caesar still there, his hand tentatively stretching in my direction. I knew what he wanted.
“Do you want to touch me?” I said smiling at him. His eyes lit up. I don’t know if he’d never noticed a bald man before, but he was obviously fascinated by my tanned globe. He put forth a finger and touched my head again, this time a little harder. Caesar loved this. He giggled loudly and ran his finger across the top of my head. I decided to kid him just a little.
“Do you really want to touch me?” I asked again. “You can do better than that.” With glee Caesar jumped up, wrapped his small arms around the top of my head, and planted a very large kiss on top of my bald head.
He returned to his mother as she knelt nearby, not knowing what her small son had done. He knelt by her and shyly looked up at me from time to time. I had made a good friend that day. Caesar was my best buddy for the rest of the convention. Why? Because I had given him permission to do what he wanted to do most of all. He wanted to touch me.
Later, as I knelt in prayer again, I felt the Holy Spirit touch me deeply and speak to my heart, “Do you want to touch me?”