God’s Mercy & Micah’s Touch

 

Micah around the time when God used his touch to reveal Christ’s grace

God does show those who are His children a daily grace, a sustaining grace, a living grace and He often does it in the most uncommon ways.  Take Micah’s merciful touch for example.  Let me explain, Micah is my youngest son and he suffers from severe autism.  Micah does not speak, until he was seven or eight he hated to be touched and never would initiate touch.  Micah does not have most of the daily living and interpersonal skills that most take for granted.  So here is the story of Micah’s merciful touch and how God showed His grace through it.

I was an Assistant Pastor and a young father when I was involved in a fire that left me in the ICU burn center with second and third degree burns, singed vocal chords and a damaged esophagus.  Two weeks after being released from the hospital I became a single father of three young boys (4 year old twins and an 18 month old) when my then wife decided she preferred a different type of lifestyle.  Not long after the marriage ended I received “the visit” by the leaders of the church where I ministered.  I was informed that my services were no longer needed.  With the loss of my job also came the loss of my house which was owned by the church.  Not long after becoming a single dad I began to notice that my youngest, Micah, seemed deaf so we began a long period of testing.  Micah’s testing started a journey which ended in a parking lot at the Emory Autism Center in Atlanta.

It took every ounce of energy to not explode as I walked from the Autism Center to my parked car.  “Mr. Burns,” the doctor had began coldly like a mathematician reciting an equation, “Micah is one of the most severe cases of autism we have ever seen here, at best you will be able to care for him until 13 or so but then you will almost certainly have to have him institutionalized.”  When I heard those words the last three months and all that had happened suddenly flooded my soul.

One of the joys of my life had always been my singing voice; however, the fire had damaged my voice and I didn’t know if I would ever sing again as I had.  Since childhood I had longed to be a father and have a family.  I had read all the books, attended the conferences, gone to the counseling sessions, listened to the radio programs and, while not perfect, had for the most part done everything I had been told I was supposed to do to have a successful and happy family life.  However, all the rules I had kept and formulas I had followed did not produce the results they had promised.  My entire adult life and all my education had been geared toward Christian ministry.  However, my church didn’t believe in divorced ministers.  Now I was being told not only would I be alone, without a job, without a home but my precious son would be trapped with this disease which I would spend the rest of my life watching him struggle with and helpless to do anything about it!

I reached the car and quickly placed Micah in his car seat.  I got in, shut the door and SCREAMED!  Months of tears and pent up anger erupted from deep within me.  I was angry at those who had betrayed me, particularly the church where I found no grace or mercy in my time of deepest need.  However, nothing could compare to the anger I felt towards God.  I wanted to know why.  How could this happen?  Why had He deserted me with these three boys, no job, and no home?  Why had He dumped me in this city parking lot alone except for Micah who wouldn’t even allow me to touch him without screaming?

Then it happened.  After I released all my pain, after I poured it out to Him with honesty and authenticity I cried out for mercy.  “Lord, I can’t go on if I don’t know that You are at least with me.  Give me something.  Give me anything to hold on to.  Let me know that you are still with me.  Please, I can’t do this anymore on my own.  Lord, just let me know I’m not alone.”

Not only had Micah never initiated touch before but he hated to be touched, he fought against it and would scream or cry if he had to endure it by being carried or held.  He preferred to play with his shadow and be left alone.  But not that day and not at that moment.  Mercy touched me that day in the form of a little boy named Micah as he reached his small hand around the seat and caressed a tear off his father’s cheek.  I turned around in shock to see an innocent smile and, for a second, the ever present distance in his eyes was gone.  Mercy touched me that day and I have never been the same.  My prayer is that you will feel it’s touch in your life right when you need it most.