The day I touched Jesus, my heart skipped its beat.
The Man, He just loved me, I fell to His feet.
His hand touched my forehead, my head to His side.
He pulled me next to Him, for me He had died.
The day I touched Jesus, my way had to change.
My heart was uneasy, the feelings were strange.
He offered to help me — forgiveness and love.
In His blood He washed me, as white as a dove.
The day I touched Jesus, we walked down the path.
He opened gates for me, secured from His wrath.
I talked with Him frankly, my eyes filled with tears.
How could He forgive me, for all of those years.
The day I touched Jesus, my mind’s not too clear.
His teaching and wisdom, He eagerly shared.
The answer’s not easy, but I’ll walk with thee.
And tell you of that day when Jesus touched me.
© Richard T. Tierney