Two women were sitting in church. One woman said to the other, "I've always wished that God would touch me, but I suppose that's too much to ask."

The other woman replied, "That sounds like a reasonable desire. Have you prayed about it?"

"Well, no. Of course not."

"Why not? There's certainly nothing wrong with a prayer like that. You should pray about it."

"All right. Maybe I will sometime."

"Not sometime. Now. What better place to pray than here in the Lord's house?"

Thus persuaded, the woman reluctantly folded her hands, bowed her head and closed her eyes in prayer, asking that God would touch her. About ten seconds later the other woman gently laid her hand on the folded hands of the friend at prayer. She responded as most of us would do. She jumped and said, "He did it! He touched me." Then, after a moment's thought "But that felt an awful lot like your hand."

"It was my hand," her friend replied.

Disappointment was on the other face. "And I thought God had touched me."

"He did touch you. How do you think God touches people? That he comes down like a fog blanket or a pillar of fire? When God touches people he takes the nearest hand and uses that."

That sounds good, doesn't it? And it's almost right. Almost, but not quite. She left out one word. When God touches people he takes the nearest WILLING hand and uses that. The Gospel for today is a case in point.