As John wrote the words "which we have touched," I wonder if he was thinking of the evening he laid his head against the chest of the Messiah. What a moment it must have been--to have physically touched the Master, the Creator of mankind! Can't you just see Jesus standing in a green field with His disciples; someone tells a joke and they laugh so hard they have to hold onto one another to keep from falling to the ground. Can you push aside today's cares long enough to imagine what it might have been like to have been a child, caught up into His arms, cradled in His lap? Can you picture walking down the road with Him, singing songs of jubilation, and having Him reach for your hand in a heartwarming moment of friendship?
We can only imagine. We cannot physically touch Jesus, but He has touched us.
He touched me...
Oh, He touched me.
And oh, the joy that floods my soul...
You could not have lived in the past fifty years and not heard this song...or even sang this song. Bill Gaither, a man of extraordinary talent with whom our generation has been blessed, penned them. He had been touched, and he had to share this message the best way he knew how: by writing a song.
When John wrote his letter, he understood why lyricist would tell of the touch of Jesus. He didn't need an explanation as to why pilots would testify to miracles or teenage girls would express themselves poetically. And I believe he had clarity as to why authors would one day sit before their computer monitors at all hours of the day and night, sharing what has been placed on their hearts.
I know because John, himself, wrote:
We proclaim to you what we have seen and heard so that you may also have fellowship with us...we write this to make our joy complete. (1 John 1:4)
To make our joy complete. Joy. Joy, joy, joy! That which comes from God, only to be sent back to Him. We don't do it for our own selfish gains (Though sometimes we fear we may burst if we don't!), but to give joy to our Lord, from Whom comes all joy.
And that is why we do it.
*copyright Sarah R. Woodcum