He Touched Me

Someone touched me And I didn't know it. Again, he touched me And I was awaken; Awaken from a cold blooded sleep. I foreknew this hand that touched me But his face, so bright, I can't behold... How could I not know whose hand it is? This hand bruised and perforated, With a touch so soft and gentle... It's nothing like the touch of a mere man. It was HIM who touched me And yes!, it was his touch that woke me. It was by his touch that I was rescued Awaken from my slumbering bed Where I laid and didn't know I was dead. How would I have known That I was long gone On an untimely sojourn To the place of no return If not that he touched my soul? But he didn't just touch me... Right there on her knees With tears on her cheeks She prayed ceaselessly On her child's lifeless body Laid before the altar... That child was me— Already dead and deceased. She knew he would hear her call. She knew the power of his touch For she had been touched once before So she begged same for her son Believing the mighty one will yield her voice And breathe life back into mama's little one. Her tearful cries were not in vein Her son regained life once again. And the great pains with which she came Melted away at the mention of Jesus Name. The one who came with her lifeless son calling Returns home with dancing and joyful singing. Authored by: Ebenezer O. Akinrinade +2347035051509, +2348027701092 (whatsapp) ebenezer.akinrinade@gmail.com http://gent2smile.blogspot.com Tweet: @gent2smile / @EbenAkinrinade **[Note: This is a true life story of what happened to me as a child.] © Ebenezer Akinrinade