God Gave Me a Hug

When I was about 13 year old, a teenager and new Christian, I attended church every time the doors were opened. I had an instantiable thirst to learn everything I could about God.

I got a ride to church from others who generously offered and got me to nearly every church event in addition to getting me to Sunday service and youth group Wednesday nights. (I am grateful beyond words for their generosity). I lived in a broken and dysfunctional home at the time and would eventually move into with my grandparents’ home as a teen. At that time I was still in the dysfunctional home.

The culture of the church I attended was unlike many churches in that the dismissal or end of service wasn’t on time precisely, but rather when the sermon was over and Holy Spirit finished moving. Often I would linger with others and continue to worship after service had concluded if even for a few minutes (some times hours). I don’t remember exactly when this was in the service, but the pastor or speaker had said something briefly about the love of God and specifically mentioned a hug. The thought of a hug lingered in my mind during worship and I remember thinking that I couldn’t remember the last time someone hugged me. I wanted more than anything a simple hug. To feel a physical embrace. I remember thinking of how it had been so long since I had been hugged and how I craved a hug like a little kid wants their mommy or daddy. I closed my eyes and prayed, “I know this kind of silly, God, but I really, REALLY want a hug from you. I wish I could hug you so badly it hurts.” While I was praying with my head bowed and my eyes closed an older woman walked up behind me, tapped me on the shoulder and said, “I know you don’t really know me, and please forgive me if I am wrong, but I’m pretty sure God told me to hug you.” I didn’t wait to give her verbal confirmation. Without hesitation I hugged her tightly as if she were a long-lost relative and I cried on her shoulder. Not wanting to take up too much of her time crying on her shoulder, I started to pull away and she said softly into my ear, “I’ll stay here all day with you if you need. As long as you like. You hug me as long as you like. I won’t let go until you let go.” I melted into her arms sobbing (ugly-crying) like a little child. In that moment God not only miraculously answered a prayer but used someone as a “Jesus with skin on”. A phrase I heard at that church that forever stuck. I had heard of “being His’ hands and feet” but never that phrase and it seemed so perfect to me because that woman was hugging me for Jesus. In that embrace it was as if I was cradled by love itself as I felt the physical embrace but also the indescribable presence of God. I felt as if a million cracks in my heart were being mended, healed and melded. Words are insufficient in describing this experience so I'll summarize by saying God hugged me.

(If one day the Holy Spirit speaks to me and tells me to hug some young girl like he did for me that day, I will, but I’ll be crying tears of joy instead of sadness.)