Who Touched Me?

“You see the people crowding against you,” His disciples answered,

“and yet you can ask, ‘Who touched me?’”

i wonder if the angels ask Him that on Sundays.

Jesus looks through this mass of believers

millions speaking

singing and seeking

a whirlwind of worship as the world spins from sun’s rise to fall.

“Who touched me?”

He asks.

And the angels watch as His gaze spans the Sunday horizon.

“Do you see the millions?”

“Yes, but who touched Me?”

“Do you hear the music and see the offerings?”

“Yes, but who touched Me?”

“Do you feel their passion?”






The Interrupter

Here’s a simple poem that works great as an ending to a sermon on the Healing of the Paralytic in Mark 2:1-12

Dust and shingles fall on the floor

Hypocrisy has blocked the door

A suffocating crowd around

And all of this distracting sound

These four guys had no building code

To renovate this small abode.

To see a beggar meet a king

Makes a roof a minor thing.

Religion always judges men.

Their patience now is wearing thin

But in the middle of the mess

A hopeless man meets holiness

And all the crowd could seem to say

was, “What a wild amazing day.”


And I don’t know your present state;

The things that cause your heart to break,

The people who have let you down,

The chaos swirling all around.

But this I know, one thing is true:

The God we trust makes all things new.

So take heart and learn to say

Each morning is a brand new day!