Thursday, November 6, 2014

My Hugutation

Several years ago, I went on a mission/vision trip to Lucknow, India with the express point of ministering to the Dalit people. If you know anything about the Indian caste system, then you know that the Dalit people are the lowest on the ladder. In fact, they are what some call "The Untouchables". These are people who have historically been cast aside and relegated to the dirtiest of jobs--handling trash, waste and blood products. They are bound by this cultural, sociological system that says they are nothing to God and therefore nothing to man.When I heard about them, all I wanted to do was fly across the world and hug.

Three Dalit girls I came across in Lucknow.
Now I realize that everyone doesn't want a hug, but it was in that moment that I began to see how much we (society, humanity) had allowed the enemy to steal something so precious and such a simple way of showing people the love of God through physical touch. Without being lascivious, there are hugs and human touch that simply about communicating the message "I care".

Then the other day, I sat in the room across from a momma and held her little girl's hand. As soon as I touched the little girl's hand, tears began to flow from her mother's eyes and sprung into the recesses of her own. She was about 8 years old and looked like any one of my god children... They had gone from doctor to doctor and heard the same answer--no. And we were no different. We couldn't give the girl the medical treatment that she was looking for, but I knew in that moment that I could give her something different--a touch.

You see, I've developed a bit of a reputation for being "that person". I'm the one who when you've had a bad day or you're missing home while here on the mission field or you simply realized that it's been days since anyone has touched you besides a hand shake who will reach out in bonafide, Christian love. There's no cost for what I give. No judgement. There's no malintent. I have no hidden sexual desire that I'm fulfilling. And I want nothing in return. The reason why I hug is because it's a simple way to bridge the gap and say "you matter". It's a simple way to put action to my words "Jesus loves you and so do I." It's a simple way to cross socioeconomic, geographic, gender, cultural lines and speak the same language of caring.

My kind of fun. This lady in Canada along
with her friends took a day in winter (when
people are depressed and lonely) to spread love
one hug at a time. Genius!
I'm sure you're wondering why I'm talking about my hugutation (hug+reputation). This week, someone confronted me about my hugs and tried to convince me to squash them. I can admit that I was saddened (and irritated) that a fellow Christian missionary would be so limited in how they thought about (appropriate) human touch. But I know that person isn't alone. Having been on the mission field now for almost a decade, I even understand the cross cultural dynamics of where this person was coming from. But, the truth is that we live in a world where the enemy has us so thoroughly convinced that all touch must be interpreted through the societal "naughty filter". But I choose to use a different filter to govern my actions--JESUS. I know that an appropriate hug on the right day can make all the difference in anyone's day. I may even have a T-Shirt printed that says "free hugs here" or a sign around my neck. But in the absence of those marketing tools, I'll just tell you: if you pass me in the street, and you're having a lousy day...reach out and maybe, just maybe, I'll be there to catch you. But if it's not me, then I hope that you'll pass a hug, a touch of simple care along to someone else you encounter who just needs their day to be boosted.

Be encouraged and don't be scared! God's love is bigger than the devils innuendo.

Blessings,
MinD

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