Intimacy, Letting Go, And Love At First Sight
By Rachael Gieger
Intimacy and control cannot take up the same space.
Since the fall, women will be faced with the constant temptation to control, to manipulate their circumstances to reach a desired end. How unfortunate it is that the very intimacy we long for is the antithesis of control, of manipulation—it requires freedom. It is freedom.
I get concerned with the romanticized notion that when you encounter “the one,” you know. We see it in movies, read it in books, but we are not exempt as women of faith from this starry-eyed ideal. Before you get mad at me, allow me to explain—I’m not saying this never happens. I’m saying that even if you are given a Spirit-led premonition in an encounter, that doesn’t mean you interpret it perfectly—and it certainly doesn’t mean the relationship that (possibly) follows is perfect, either.
The problem with saying, “I just know” too soon is that you can be wrong, and saying those words doesn’t make the desired end of intimacy appear. I’ve been dead wrong before, and the words “but I just know” offered comfort as he slipped through my fingers, but only for a moment. Because I didn’t truly know, and I was trying to control a situation that was out of my control with my words, so my heart could have the intimacy it longed for. We all want it, and we want the certainty of its permanence; and however terrifying this reality may be, permanence of a relationship is not completely certain until there are rings on both of y’all’s fingers.
But, sisters, just as Jesus says to Mary Magdalene at His Resurrection, “Do not cling to me,” (John 20:19) we can’t cling either. If Mary Magdalene had held onto Him for dear life, she wouldn’t have let Him ascend—and after the Ascension comes the life-breathing intimacy of the Spirit. He knew she wanted intimacy, and He wanted to give it to her. But clinging—controlling—was not, and never will be, the way.
Love is beautiful because it is free and alive, just as anything that captivates our hearts is; think of poetry, of watercolor paintings, of dancing. Try to control any of those things, and it loses its expression immediately. True romance isn’t a false dependence on “knowing,” it’s the opposite: a free-fall into how much you do not know, but how much there is to discover. You’re not dealing with a movie character, you’re in a relationship with another flawed, messy, incredible human being. Discovering who he is can never be planned to a tee; the beauty of his soul has to be an adventure to go on, maybe for the rest of your life, and maybe not. But the adventure is where you live. An outlined, analyzed poem isn’t half of what a raw, from-the-heart one is; a planned, choreographed dance doesn’t make you feel as alive as a spontaneous one in your kitchen.
Intimacy and control cannot take up the same space. Saying “I just know,” on the outset, in the hopes that those words will somehow preserve you from a painful ending, only box you in.
Without the free-fall, the cliff dive into that ocean that is so uncertain, you don’t get the joy of discovery. Yes, there may be a painful ending--and that is unarguably terrifying. But there also might not be, and let me tell you what: being slowly invited into knowing—real intimacy—is far, far better than clutching at it from the start when it may not be the end He wills.
My Theology of the Body professor put it simply like this, when asked if he believed in “love at first sight”: he said no, he didn’t necessarily. But he believed in the possibility of love at first sight; he said that sometimes, in that first encounter, you recognize you are holding an acorn. This acorn could become an oak tree—the oak tree—or it could just stay an acorn, but the only way to know is to...plant it. Saying “you are an oak tree” to a tiny acorn doesn’t make the tree suddenly appear. It has to be planted, watered, carefully tended...and then patiently waited upon.
This isn’t to say certainty never comes, and that it doesn’t come quickly for some and slowly for others. It’s to say that there’s nothing quite like the knowledge, certainty, and intimacy that comes from the discovery of discernment as opposed to a manipulated, controlled, declared plan. So, let your desire for intimacy overcome the all-too-common tendency to control.
Free-fall, backwards. Dive into that ocean, dance spontaneously, until the day finally arrives that your heart—full of peace and the discoveries it’s made of its beloved—gets to say, “Yes. Now, I truly know.”
