Touch

[I had this post up for a couple of hours last week, but I removed it out of fear that I really was quite weird in feeling this way. Having, just now, returned from a weekend retreat where this very topic came up, I feel comfortable posting this, knowing that I am not alone in feeling this way, and that the physical contact "love language" is actually quite common.

It is also worth noting that this was written in a rather selfish mood where I somehow skipped over my family who often demonstrates caring through a hugs and such. I guess that I was assuming that as a given, and only looking externally.]

It is no wonder to me that self injury is so common these days. Those who suffer with it often make claims of chasing some kind of feeling in an otherwise numb life. I thank God for the hope He has given me to stay away from that struggle, but I know the numbness all too well.

If you were placed in a pitch dark room for a long period of time, wouldn't you naturally question after a while whether you had simply gone blind at some point and you now simply couldn't see what had turned in to an otherwise bright and friendly room? I was sitting here trying to remember the last purposeful touch that I had given to, or received from, a friend. A hug, a pat on the back, a squeeze of the shoulder, a hand on the head... nothing. Last night, in one of those dark and negative moods, I sat in my room questioning whether I would actually be able to feel anything if someone actually did dare come near me.

The apostle John sat beside Jesus, laying his head on the chest of the messiah while they talked. There was such intimacy (we need to reclaim this word from the purely 'sexual' usage) in that connection. A student and his rabbi, two friends.

Our group used to pray intimately, "texas style" as Nolan and Faye deemed it (the electric chair). You would be covered in hands and you knew that you had some connection with those people. Your shoulders would be squeezed, your head would be patted, you would be jostled back and forth, there was no doubt that you were loved.

Now, on the rare occasion that we actually pray for each other, there is no contact. Nor is there much contact at any other points. It's like we're lepers, or think everyone else is. Guys don't dare touch other guys any more. I hate that the specter of homosexuality has destroyed the idea of this kind of non-sexual intimacy among men. It was a true and valuable kind of friendly/brotherly intimacy before it was perverted and attached to corrupted sexuality. Why can't we, as Christian brothers, be as close as Jesus and John.

I don't know if I am totally alone in this or not. I'm sure that I've freaked out a bunch of you. But I cannot ignore the fact that I crave touch: it is how I know that people care for me. It also happens to be one of the most uncomfortable things for people to do around someone like me (no one likes touching a fat guy), and for that reason I am equally hesitant to dole it out as I don't know how it would be taken. I am very confident that I am not alone in feeling this way.

I'd also like to mention that I do believe that this disconnect is justified in terms of my actions of this sort towards women. In my experience, there are two sorts of guys who are comfortable expressing themselves in this manner with their lady friends:

• Real men of God who have gained the maturity, self-control, and respect for women through the lense of God.
• Guys who are comfortable exploiting their lady friends to fulfill an agenda of lust (acknowledged or not) under the guise of real friendship.

The former being the goal which I long for but have yet to reach. The latter being what I dread becoming. So I have to say, as much as I wish that I didn't, that there is value in rule #1.

(That's alot of stuff, I know. But I'd like to hear your thoughts on it.)