07/06/2026
Based on this Sunday's gospel reading.
A touch.
So ordinary and light
we barely notice it.
A hand on a shoulder.
An arm around someone who’s grieving.
A hand held across a hospital bed.
A child reaching for a parent’s fingers.
Small things.
Until they’re not.
A woman reaches out,
through the crowd,
through her fear,
through years of being overlooked.
Just the edge of a cloak.
A touch.
A father falls at Jesus’ feet,
desperate for his daughter,
desperate for one more chance,
one more breath,
one more touch of hope.
And Jesus responds.
Not with distance.
Not with indifference.
but with presence.
and touch.
Because that’s how love often arrives.
Not in grand speeches.
Not in dramatic gestures.
But in casseroles left at a door.
In messages sent at the right moment.
In sitting beside someone
when words are hard to find.
In choosing not to walk past.
We underestimate touch.
Not only the touch of hands,
but the touch of a life.
The way kindness lingers.
The way encouragement stays with us for years.
The way one act of compassion
can become a turning point
in someone else’s story.
Jesus touched lives wherever He went.
Not just bodies,
but hearts,
souls,
communities.
And He still does.
Through people willing to notice.
People willing to stop.
People willing to reach out.
We may never know
how far our touch travels.
How a word spoken gently,
a kindness offered freely,
a moment of compassion given without thought,
becomes part of someone else’s healing.
But love leaves fingerprints.
And every time we choose
to touch the world with grace,
something of Christ
is made visible.
© E Hamilton 2026