The next step was all too familiar. The boyfriend who had impregnated her and spoken with such tenderness suddenly decided he “no longer loved her” and joined the Navy.

Before she could begin to get oriented to the bewildering pace of live change, she found herself with a baby, living in a one-bedroom shack, and working enough hours at a convenience store to pay the rent, hire a baby-sitter, and put food on the table.

Since there was on one else to be angry with, she became angry with her child—the baby boy with blonde hair so like his father. She was never abusive to him. She never screamed at him and always kept him diapered and fed. She simply decided she wasn’t going to touch him. When he cried, she gave him no comfort. When he woke up from a nap, she gave him no smile. For this little boy, there were no pats, no cuddles, no tickles, no handholding, and no kisses. Life had been cold to her; she was going to be cold right back.

By the time the boy was four, he had come to associate any touch at all with the fear of anger and discipline. When he misbehaved, he was spanked. That was the only kind or “touch” he knew.

The teacher of the four-year-olds’ class knew she had a significant problem within five minutes of this boy’s first day in Sunday school. To put it kindly, he was a terror. This wise teacher looked beyond the little boy’s behavior and sat down with his mother the next day. Gently yet firmly, she urged the young mother to talk to their church counselor. After first helping her to see her need of a Savior, this counselor put into her hands a book we recently revised and updated, called The Gift of the Blessing.

She read the pages hungrily and very quickly came to two crushing realizations. First, she realized that one major reason she had so hungered for intimacy with her boyfriend was that neither her mother nor father had touched her or shown any physical tenderness while she was growing up. The second thing she realized was that she was doing the very same thing to her son.

Those realizations brought deep conviction. Suddenly it all seemed clear and she broke down in the counselor’s office and wept. Maybe it wasn’t too late. Her boy was only four. She couldn’t recapture the days that had slipped by … but she could make a new beginning. She decided to make a change that very day by giving her son a big hug.

This change of heart made a deep impression on her boy. In fact, it nearly scared him to death.

“Come here,” she said to him when he came out of the Sunday school room, “Mommy wants to give you a big hug.” The little boy’s eyes went very wide and then he took off like a shot. He probably thought, It’s a trick. She’s going to catch me and then smack me one. The more she tried to catch him and hold him, the more hysterical he became.

It took time. A long time. Over and over she would say, “Now honey, I want to give you a hug—just because I love you.” Just as frequently he would scream, run away, cry, or try to fight his way out of her arms. Then came the day when he looked at her from across the room, smiled shyly, ran into her arms, and gave her a hug. That was the breakthrough in this new relationship between a mom who was learning how to touch with tenderness … and a little boy who was learning how to drink it in.

Later she would laugh and tell her counselor, “I need those hugs as much as he does!” They were both on their way to recovery.

But is touch really that powerful in a person’s life?

Recently, I (John) net a medical doctor at one of the seminars I do around the country on the Old Testament concept of “The Blessing.” After I had stressed the importance of appropriate, meaningful touch, this man told me his story. Even though he knows all about psychology, it took a lesson from a veteran nurse to show him how intensely touch can affect the lives of men, women, and babies!

This cardiologist and his wife had just had their first child-a precious, premature daughter who tipped the scales at just under three pounds. Like most doctors, he knew all too well the many complications and problems that his daughter potentially faced. As she lay hooked up to numerous monitors, it made him reluctant to touch her in her intensive care incubator.

Finally, on the second day, the head nurse of some twenty years told him, “Look, Doctor. Your child needs you to touch her. You just reach your hand in that crib and touch her. And when you do, look at what happens to the monitors.”

Reluctantly, he did so, and as he began to stroke the newborn’s tiny arms and legs, the blood, oxygen, and chemical levels began to change noticeably-and then dramatically. This doctor could read those monitors, and before his eyes he could see the positive changes taking place in her little life through those small act of touch.

It’s no accident that premature babies who are touched and held as a regular part of their hospital stay gain weight some 47 percent faster than those who are not. And it was no accident that this grateful father dates his strong emotional bond with his daughter from that day in the hospital nursery.

All of us long to be accepted by others. While we may say out loud, “I don’t care what people think about me,” on the inside we all yearn for intimacy and affection. This yearning is especially true in our relationship with our parents. Gaining or missing out on parental approval has a tremendous effect on us, even if it has been years since we have had any regular contact with them. In fact, what happens in our relationship with our parents can greatly affect all our present and future relationships. While this may sound like an exaggeration, our office has been filled with people struggling with this very issue, people just like Brian and Nancy.

The Crushing of Brian’s Dream

“Please say that you love me, please!” Brian’s words trailed off into tears as he leaned over the now still form of his father. It was late at night in a large metropolitan hospital. Only the cold, white walls and the humming of a heart monitor kept Brian company. His tears revealed a deep inner pain and sensitivity that had tormented him for years, emotional wounds that now seemed beyond repair.

Brian had flown nearly halfway across the country to be at his father’s side in one last attempt to try to reconcile years of misunderstanding and resentment. All his life, Brian had been searching for his father’s acceptance and approval, but they always seemed just out of reach.

Brian’s father had been a career Marine officer. His sole desire was that when he grew up he would follow in his father’s footsteps. With that in mind, Brian’s father took every opportunity to instill in his son discipline and the backbone he would need when one day he too was an officer.

Nancy Reveals a Painful Past

Nancy’s loss was a different sort, but the hurt and pain she received from missing out on the blessing stung her just as deeply. In fact, living apart from the blessing had caused problems not only with her parents, but with her husband and children as well.

Nancy grew up in an affluent suburb outside a major city. During Nancy’s early years, her mother loved to socialize with other women at the club and at frequent civic activities. In fact, with a marriage that was less than fulfilling, these social gatherings became of paramount importance to Nancy’s mother.

When Nancy was very young, her mother would dress her up in elegant clothes (the kind you had to sit still in, not play in) and take her and her older sister to the club. But as Nancy grew older, this practice began to change.

Unlike her mother and older sister, Nancy was not petite. In fact, she was quite large and big-boned. Nor was Nancy a model of tranquility. She was a tomboy who loved outdoor games, swinging on fences, and animals of all kinds.

Recommended Resource: The Blessing