For this Tip Tuesday, I thought I'd share a final post from Jack's assessment trip in Haiti. This is a post that has stuck with me:

As we wrapped up the child assessments today the word that best tells the story of my time here is not death, nor panic, nor fear. The word is touch.

Panic and fear and death are all around, but touch is what gives the real story here its humanity. We've been dealing with a disease that first, out of ignorance, brought stigma. No one wanted to touch the infected. We've been trying to create a sterile environment in one of the least hygienic places of all -- touching is certainly frowned upon. Even simple handshakes are looked at with suspicion.

But as Jesus shocked his followers and crowds by breaking the code of touch, in times like these it is the human touch that opens the door for healing.

I have reached out and touched over 1000 children since arriving 10 days ago. When you examine a child for signs of cholera, you start by simply taking their hands in yours and gently rubbing them. The skin of hands and arms that should be supple is dry. While holding their hands, you look right in their eyes and in 5 seconds they know you are their friend. Then you look at their eyes, touch their nose, ears, head, and stomachs. 

Yes, many are sick but what you just did was connect that child to their value. Many will melt right in your arms. One little girl just came and stood by me and took my hand. For about 5 minutes I just put my arm around her. She was in no hurry to leave. All children crave the touch that tells them they are special. Here in Haiti, that touch means even more.

It's hard to let go. You really don't want to. You're afraid to let them walk back out in that street or through the garbage. There's not much safety here. It's hard but we do let go and we trust them in the hands of the One big enough to touch all their lives.

It's so true -- Jesus crossed the line and reached out to the leper, to the blind beggar, to the thief next to him on the cross. How like the very nature of God, who in this season took on flesh and came to dwell among us. I am trusting my girls to God.

But I also needed that reminder of the importance of touch. Few of us will have the opportunity to hold the hand of our child, look into his or her eyes, and communicate that intrinsic worth. 

But you can write a letter. It sounds trite, but given my interaction with our field staff, I know it to be true: a letter from you can change everything for your sponsored child. 

So here's my tip for the day: Find a way to communicate your child's worth -- find it and write it down today. Make sure that in every letter, you emphasize their worth in the eyes of God and in your own. They are precious and honored. They can change their lives, and the lives of their friends and family with God's power. 

Make sure they have the encouragement they may not hear in their day-to-day life. Let your letter be your outstretched arms. Be sure they know how much you care this holiday season.

And if this strikes you as odd, if there's a question in your mind about whether or not you really care for them, I encourage you to really think about it. How much does a kind word, some advice and encouragement cost you? Five minutes and you can change a life, just as those five minutes holding Jack's hand meant the world to that little girl in Haiti. Take the time.