Saturday, March 14, 2026

One Touch and You're Never the Same


I love it when my wife reaches up with both hands and gently touches each side of my face, showing love in her own special way.  I feel the warmth of that love when she softly strokes my forehead as I face life’s challenges, asking with concern, “Does that feel good?”  Even in my aging years, it still melts my heart.

My older brother used to call her “Katie Lady.”  I call her “Sweetheart.”  She tagged me with the name “Cutie.”

More than once she has told me that she first loved me when she was just thirteen years old, listening to me sing in a gospel quartet during the “Eye Rallies” I believe was an outreach of Teen Challenge, founded by David Wilkerson.  These gatherings were held at a local venue in Walnut Creek, California, for youth in the surrounding area.  I was sixteen at the time.

About eight years later, through what I believe were God-ordained circumstances, I met this girl again—now a young woman seeking God’s will for her life.  The rest, as they say, is history.

After a short engagement of six months, we married when she turned twenty-two.  You might say we were two kids in love who were meant to be together—God’s providence at work.  From that day forward, I have been blessed.

Through the years I have seen the many ways God has expressed His love toward me through my wife—through her compassion, kindness, patience, and words of encouragement when I needed them most.  She not only expresses love with words, but she demonstrates it at every turn in life.

Her godly influence has remained steady through the years.  She shares wisdom with a loving spirit and has often been used by God to help guide the final decisions we have made together as we prayed about everything.

In many ways we are opposites.  With her optimistic personality and my analytical mind, we make a pretty good pair.  As the saying goes, “opposites attract,” and that has certainly been true in our relationship.  Where I am strong, she may be weak, and where she is strong, I may be weak—but together we strengthen one another.

I call her my right-hand girl, even though she’s left-handed.

She has always been there, bringing peace and harmony that have saturated my soul over the years.  She is not only my helpmate; she has often been God’s outstretched hands revealing His love to me through heartfelt words and thoughtful actions.

Scripture teaches that this love is meant to be a two-way communion—my wife to me and me to her.  We are one flesh, made possible because we are not unequally yoked. We are both Christians, with God at the head of our household.  Our common denominator is Jesus Christ, the Son of the living God.

I am called to love her as Christ loves the church.

We spoil each other as it should be.  Marriage is not a fifty-fifty proposition as some might think.  I believe it requires one hundred percent giving from both sides.  When each gives their all, God shapes the relationship into something deeper than we could create ourselves.

As the saying goes, “A family that prays together stays together.”

The touch between husband and wife becomes even more powerful when God touches their souls.  There is no touch like God’s liberating touch when He sets us free and teaches us how to love one another as Christ loves the church.

When God touches a life—however He chooses to do it, whether through a spouse or in another way—we are never the same.  When we allow Him to break through the walls of our self-sufficiency, He shows us a better way to live and to love.

When we learn to give of ourselves, we become God’s outstretched hands and His voice of reason.  Through us, He brings life to those searching for lasting happiness—those who sense there must be more to life than what they are living.

With just one touch from God, a sense of belonging is born.  The person who receives it will never be the same.  New life becomes theirs when God forgives their sin.

There is no other way to have a true relationship with Father God except through His Son, Jesus Christ.

Written by,

Papa Boyd

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