The Power of Touch

EARLIER THIS YEAR I had major surgery. I knew I was literally in the best hands possible as my surgeon was renowned in his field so I kept my prayer requests short and to the point. “Please God, let there be no pain when they run the IV in,” was my first prayer. My second request was the one I reserve for special occasions, those high-stakes situations where I can’t predict or control what will unfold or what the final outcomes will be: “God, I need to know that you are physically present while they operate.”

When Chad the student anaesthesiologist introduced himself I wondered if that first prayer would be answered. It was not.

In the OR, the anaesthesiologists fussed as they ran a second IV in my right hand, searched to replace a faulty gadget and told me to breathe as they fitted a clear mask to my face. “Breathe deep and you’ll sleep,” one suggested. “Really?” I thought. “Just focus on breathing Renée,” said the OR nurse behind me. Equipment set up on my right began to beep, I could hear the rattle of steel instruments on a tray.

“Why isn’t this working?” I began to panic. Despite my deep breathing I hadn’t “gone under” and it felt like an eternity had passed. As I stared up at the ceiling lights and tried to tune out all the activity to the right of me, I felt a hand clasp my left hand and another begin to gently stroke my prone left arm. Without words, without a sound. It was my surgeon. He’d stepped right up to the table to hold my hand and arm in his hands. As I breathed in deeply, I felt the warmth of his hand and his touch up and down my arm. My panic melted away. A warmth, a peace filled the entire left side of my body – and it seemed as though all sounds had been dialed down.

As I reviewed the entire experience later that night I realized: God had made His presence known through the loving touch of my surgeon. Without a sound or a word, God had let me know that He’d heard my prayer and had answered it.

Which brings me to leadership – the theme of this issue. We all know that saying that people will always remember how you made them feel. At that moment, on that operating table, my surgeon had seen me; had made me feel safe, secure, cared for, dignified.

I believe anesthesiologists perform some of the most important tasks ever (they keep us breathing and make sure we awake after surgeries). Though the anesthesiologists performed their critical duties, it was with a noisy, jarring confidence. I want to lead, whether at home, work or church, like my surgeon did that morning – ready to step up to the table; simply offering my presence, my touch. I want peace to mark my leadership, not noisy confidence no matter the situation. What kind of leader do you want to be?

Renée James Editor