Intimacy and Touch

"Thus the Lord used to speak to Moses face to face, just as a man speaks to his friend."

"I have eaten my honeycomb and my honey;

I have drunk my wine and my milk.
Eat, friends; drink and imbibe deeply, O lovers."

It’s easier to hike a mountain than make love. If you’re seeking release—sex is easy. True intimacy requires work. Fearful, mask lowering, work. Hiking a mountain is easy that way—on a base level easy to be selfish. Intimacy requires giving yourself away.

I am not hungry for surface relationship. I desire connections that consume. Soul to soul with my wife; iron to iron with friends and face to face with God. This is frightening and holy ground. I try for transparency. Peel back layers and talk to my wife—even about the crap inside me. God fully aware, but still, I speak, I cry, I convey feeling.

My mom; my parents, did not hug. There was no touch in our house---except hand to head and nail to arm with my sister. Hugging and touch a foreign language. My childhood was devoid of intimacy in talk and touch. No safety there. 

Intimacy is ill defined by touch. I was in my forties and mom in her seventies. A three-hour drive for work; crashing at her house. She’d spoil me with dinner, breakfast or both. Ever the night-owl---we’d sit down at that long wood dining-room table and talk. Past midnight. Over rich home-made dishes and Trader Joes cheesecake.  Here is a strange thing; in this breaking of bread that table became a safe place. A satisfying, sweet place where we shared heart and thought; as mother to son and friend to friend.

To be intimate does not require touch. Touch affirms but isn’t required. Intimacy is established and nurtured in ritual and security. The desired depth with God, wife or friend occurs in this context. The over and over again meeting with another through celebration and storm. Open table, safe place, face to face. Over time, transparency and intimacy will grow. Imbibe deeply, O lovers!

Photo by Allef Vinicius on Unsplash

Twinkle In The Eyes And Terror In The Face

Thus the Lord used to speak to Moses face to face, just as a man speaks to his friend.

Do not hide Your face from me in the day of my distress; Incline Your ear to me.

My bride; You have made my heart beat faster with a single glance of your eyes…

There is terror in a face we cannot see. In a face that is distorted, misshapen through birth defect or accident-the man bagging your groceries with twisted lips and purple potato nose. The creature in Stranger Things; lacking face but feeding on life. The secret, stomach emptying fear going to the airport as a child to pick up a father---afraid we won’t remember what he looks like.

There is delight in the glance of a lover; the twinkle of a smile in the eyes and the invitation for more. Comfort is found in the face of a friend; the lines on the face mirror years of passionate sharing. The embrace at the airport glad to be in each other’s company again.

There is angst when ‘darkness hides God’s lovely face.’ In all our cries and words and pounding we cannot hear God. Cannot get hold of the hem of His robe. This friend has been the closest one. The one on our side when the divorce papers come; life abandons, friends wound.

There is sweetness when God’s eyes invite us in. Freeing us up and lightening our load to share with such a friend. Filled to fulness. Spring in our step. We fear being forsaken but instead are fully known; safely known. Face to that Face; joy and laughter bubble up. Thirst quenched, hunger sated. Fully heard and safely held. The face we’ll finally see.