Slave or Master?

By Karen Ramsey
(Used with the author’s permission.)

“On the day you were born your umbilical cord was not cut, you weren't bathed and cleaned up, you weren't rubbed with salt, you weren't wrapped in a baby blanket. No one cared a fig for you. No one did one thing to care for you tenderly in these ways. You were thrown out into a vacant lot and left there, dirty and unwashed—a newborn nobody wanted. And then I came by. I saw you all miserable and bloody. Yes, I said to you, lying there helpless and filthy, "Live! Grow up like a plant in the field!" And you did. You grew up. You grew tall and matured as a woman, full-breasted, with flowing hair. But you were naked and vulnerable, fragile and exposed. I came by again and saw you, saw that you were ready for love and a lover. I took care of you, dressed you and protected you. I promised you my love and entered the covenant of marriage with you. I, God, the Master, gave my word. You became mine. I gave you a good bath, washing off all that old blood, and anointed you with aromatic oils. . .” (Ezekiel 16:4-9, MSG).

Recently I read two articles by Dr. David Ryser. The first was entitled “Lover or Prostitute?” The second was part 2 of the first article. In the first part, he discusses the journey from being a prostitute (one who has to be paid for his/her services) to being a lover of God (serving and loving God without conditions). In the second article, Dr. Ryser talks about how, after he’d wrestled through that conflict, God turned things around by stating, “I’m not a prostitute, either. (If you haven’t read either or both articles, they are the first two posts on this blog) I mention those articles because they were the precursor to how God next turned me upside down. I was chewing on the ideas Dr. Ryser presented, and trying to process the revelations they brought.

As I was praying and setting myself for real heart-searching and repentance, God stopped me short by saying, in a nutshell, “I’m not a rapist, either.”

I didn’t even have a response for that for several long moments. I was almost afraid to have one, because I knew Daddy was getting ready to deal with some deeply-rooted things.

Finally, I took a deep breath and set myself to open up to whatever He wanted to do. But when I looked up at Him, what I saw stopped me short once again. He was looking back at me with tears running down His face.

Suddenly I was seeing myself through His eyes, and we were watching vignettes from the past scroll by. I watched His heart break as He watched me try to relate to Him the same way I had learned to relate to others in my life.

A vicious incident from childhood involving a neighbor set my life on a destructive path that lasted long into my adulthood. Over and over again, from my teens into my 30s, I entered into relationships with people who were selfish at best and dangerous at worst.

As we watched these scenes pass by, God began opening my eyes to what was going on inside of me during that time: I was terrified that my control over my body would be stolen again, yet I didn’t know how to choose people that wouldn’t do so. I wasn’t even sure there were such people, although I longed to find even just one.

The only solution I could find was to give myself away so I couldn’t be stolen from again. Submission became the way I maintained control, not gave it up: “I’m going to give in to your desires, regardless of my own feelings, so that the decision remains mine.”

Unfortunately, it didn’t work out the way I wanted it to. All I really wanted was love and relationship; but what I ended up enduring was so distasteful that I turned to whatever methods of numbing my mind and body I could just to get through it. By the time I was in my 30s, I was entangled with people who weren’t satisfied being given what they wanted to take. Others only found pleasure when they were inflicting pain. The claws of perversity, violence, and control that had pierced me as a child were only being driven deeper and gaining more power. After more than 20 years I’d ended up back in the place I’d worked so hard to escape, but with those added decades of time spent cementing these relational patterns in place.

It was after a couple of very bad years that I finally turned to God. He swept right into my life and instantly began healing me. I found a church that, among other things, moved powerfully in spiritual warfare. I was immediately drawn to that aspect of God.

I spent two years running hard after the Warrior. I remember times He tried to come to me in other ways, as Father or Beloved, and my gut reaction was to slam the door in His face. Because I’d lived with warfare, violence, and striving most of my life, I was comfortable with it. Anything else terrified me.

Finally, He had to get direct with me. A while back He said, “If you don’t let Me love you, you aren’t going to make it.”

Love – now that’s an interesting word. That’s all I was looking for from the beginning, but my experiences taught me that the way to please someone was to let them use me any way they wanted. Pain was to be expected, and possibly enjoyed. I’m realizing now that they were lessons that gave me a fearlessness I felt was useful in battle, and a pride in how I would throw myself at His feet willing for Him to do or ask anything. Yet now He has said He wants something different – something more. And I have to ask myself – do I even know what love is?

I am on a journey, of which this encounter has become a part. God is trying to show me that opening myself up to let Him do whatever He wants to do to me is not the same thing as opening myself up to His goodness. He doesn’t want to rape me. And when I tell Him it’s ok for Him to use me and throw me away, I’m not submitting – I’m really slapping Him in the face. Because what He’s longing for is a relationship with me.

I’d be lying if I said I’ve totally gotten a handle on this. It’s opened up some painful things, but I know it’s bringing healing to those things, as well. In the past, I gave myself away because I didn’t dare trust; now He wants me to learn trust first. It’s a dance I’ve never known, and honestly hoped at times to live my Christian life without. But I’m realizing that is because I had no idea what it was He wanted to give me. The Lover is wooing me now, and with such gentleness that I think I may actually be able to reach out and grasp the hand He’s extending towards me . . .

Responses to this article are welcomed. You may contact the author at ramseyk.kr@gmail.com

"Look What I Found!": Blind Squirrels and Spiritual Truth

By David Ryser

Even a blind squirrel finds an acorn sometimes.  (Proverb)

I do a lot of driving, both on my job and in my personal life.  Driving is not exciting to me…and I suppose it’s best that way.  “Driving” and “excitement” are two words that should probably never appear in the same sentence.  In my experience, excitement while driving is almost always a bad thing.  But driving can be boring, which poses its own risks.  So I look for ways to keep myself mentally engaged while driving.

I particularly enjoy reading church building marquees.

There are lots of opportunities to read church building marquees.  Church buildings are everywhere… like pubs (and for the same reasons).  Reading the marquees, I often muse about the folks who gather in these buildings…and why they do.  What sorts of people attend the services?  Do they love Jesus?  Do they even know Him?  Does Jesus attend their church meetings?  Would I be welcomed in their services…and for how long?

I’ve come to suspect that the message on a church building marquee says a lot about the people who meet inside.

Many messages I read on church building marquees are…to put it politely…religious tripe.  Many others are merely advertising of some kind.  I suspect that the latter is less harmful than the former.  Few people are harmed by advertising.  Far more are poisoned by drinking the religious bilge served in the average church service.

But I digress.

My current favorite example of a church building marquee message that encourages me to stay out of the building at all costs is one I saw in a small rural town.  The sign reads:  IF YOU DON’T HAVE THE BREAD OF LIFE, YOU’RE TOAST.  I must admit that my first reaction was to laugh.  A part of me found the sign to be quite funny…if somewhat counter-productive…and it amused me.

After all, if you’re going to engage in religious buffoonery, at least have the decency to be entertaining.

But what kind of message does this send to people?  Much of what is communicated in Christian evangelism…by whatever media…seems to portray God as saying, “Love Me…or else.”  Or else what?  Or else I’ll curse you?  Cause you to be sick?  Harm you, your family, and your children?  Burn you forever in the fires of hell?

Who can resist such an invitation?  Doesn’t this just make you want to run into your heavenly Daddy’s arms?

Jesus never…ever…not even once…issued such an invitation to people.  He did encourage them to meet and relate intimately with the Father.  A Father who desperately loved them.  A Father who wanted very much to fellowship with them.  A Father who would not reject them, but who would receive them with gladness into His embrace.

It’s been my experience that it’s not necessary to threaten a person in order to persuade them to love someone who loves them this much.

So I don’t find much truth on church building marquees.  And when I do, I often suspect that it’s an accident.  For example, I was driving past a church building recently, and the message on the marquee read:  NEED A NEW LIFE?  GOD ACCEPTS TRADE-INS.  I found the message clever, and was about to pass it out of my thinking.

And then the truth of the message exploded in my spirit.

You see, too many Christians…myself included…tend to view our faith as a spiritual automobile repair.  Our car (life) is broken, so we take it into the mechanic (Jesus) who repairs (“saves”) it and returns it to us with an admonishment to drive more carefully (live the “Christian life”) and maintain it more diligently (develop robust spiritual disciplines) in the future.  This sounds good, but is found nowhere in the Bible.

The Christian life is less like a car repair, and more like a trade-in for a new car.

With a trade-in, a person takes his/her old car (old life) to the dealer (Jesus) and exchanges it for a new car (new life).  Ownership of the old car is relinquished to the dealer, and the previous owner forfeits all future rights to it.  Signs away the title.  Turns in the key.   Walks away from the old car and begins to drive the new car, never to own or drive the old car ever again.

This is Paul’s view of the Christian life.

Especially in his letters to the Ephesians, Philippians, and Colossians, Paul presents the Christian faith as an exchange of life.  We die and receive Christ’s life.  We trade in our old man for the new man.  We no longer live out of the old life; but rather, we walk in the newness of Christ’s life.  And as the seed of Christ’s life which has been planted in us takes root and grows, it displaces our old life and we progressively come out of the spiritual darkness into God’s light.  We live “in Christ” (a term found dozens of times in the Epistles), and Christ lives in us.

God not only accepts trade-ins, He welcomes them.

So now I’m left wondering if the people who worship and fellowship inside of this church building are living in…or are even aware of…the truth expressed on their building’s marquee.  It’s one thing for a blind squirrel to stumble across an acorn, but this good fortune does the squirrel no good unless it recognizes the acorn as an acorn.  Otherwise, the squirrel will mistake the acorn for a rock…or some other inedible object…and kick it aside and resume the search for food, never realizing how close it came to enjoying the feast that it was seeking.

Religion is a lot like that squirrel.

I probably will never go into that church building.  I don’t even remember where it is.  But as I went on my way, the message on the marquee continued to ring in my spirit.

NEED A NEW LIFE?  GOD ACCEPTS TRADE-INS.

Responses to this article are welcomed.  You may contact the author at drdave1545@yahoo.com

The Empty Theater: Playing to an Audience of One

By David Ryser

            See, when you’re a little kid, nobody ever warns you that you’ve got an expiration date. One day you’re hot stuff and the next day you’re a dirt sandwich.  (Jeff Kinney)

“Look at me!  Look at me!”  What is it about young children that causes them to clamor for attention?  Children seem to need attention desperately.  I’ve known some of them to misbehave simply to get attention…the kind of attention that any rational human being would seek to avoid.  I can only conclude that attention is like any other form of publicity.

I’m told there is no such thing as bad publicity.

Children…and some religious professionals…crave attention.  They have a need to be seen.  They have a need to be heard.  They have a need to be acknowledged as important.

In short, children need to be valued by someone…by anyone.  So do adults.  And one of the most common ways that we measure our self-worth is by how many people pay attention to us.

So we pursue attention.  We prefer positive attention.  But we will settle for negative attention if we must.

And the more attention the better.  The more people who see us, the better.  The more people who hear us, the better.  The more people who attend our church….

Well, you get the idea.

The problem with using fame as a means to measure our value is that fame is fleeting.  One day we are the center of attention.  The next day, we are yesterday’s news.  If you want to know just how easily you can be forgotten…and how quickly...simply become a religious professional.

And then leave the ministry.

Of course, this dynamic applies to everyday life as well.  We seek to be valued and admired by all kinds of people…spouses, other loved ones, employers, co-workers…even by people we don’t know.

If we are noticed, we believe we have value.  If we are ignored, we feel worthless.

This can be quite a roller-coaster, mentally and emotionally.  Life is full of these ups-and-downs.  Even Jesus was not immune to this reality of life.  He experienced anonymity in His early life.  He experienced fame later in His life.  He was well-received.  He was rejected.  His message and ministry were enthusiastically accepted.  His message and ministry were opposed.  He preached to large crowds.  He had hundreds of disciples.  His preaching also caused all of these disciples…except twelve…to leave Him.

And even those twelve abandoned Him when He needed them the most.

Reading the gospels, I am struck by how Jesus behaved in the good times and the bad times.  He didn’t seem to be influenced by how popular He was…or how unpopular.  He remained steady when He was opposed, and even slandered.  He did not seek fame or approval…with one notable exception…and did not fear disapproval and rejection.

So what was the exception?

Throughout His life and ministry, Jesus was concerned only with the approval of His Father.  He ministered by doing only what He saw the Father doing and saying only what He heard the Father saying.  He was unmoved by the approval or disapproval of people, but was very responsive to the Father’s pleasure.

Jesus played to an audience of One.

Jesus heard the applause of the Father when the crowds accepted Him.  Jesus heard the Father’s applause when the crowds rejected Him.  The religious leaders and religious people never did accept Him (there’s a lesson in this, I think).  Jesus even heard the applause of the Father when His closest friends abandoned Him.

So what about us?

Do we hear the Father’s applause?  Do we go about our daily lives in tune with what the Father is doing and saying…and how He is responding to what we are doing and saying?  No matter what is happening around us?  No matter what people are saying about us?  Whether or not people are paying attention to us?  Whether or not people are approving of us?

And if not, then why not?

I’ve given this quite a bit of thought because for the longest time I suffered from a peculiar form of Attention Deficit Disorder.  Specifically, I felt I wasn’t getting enough attention from people…a deficit of attention…and strived mightily to get it.  When anyone suggested to me that I should seek to satisfy my need for attention and sense of being valued from God, the religious part of me would acknowledge that I ought to do so.  But I was always unable to pull it off.

Why?

My problem boiled down to my lack of knowing God and the failure of the religious system to teach me how to know Him.  In fairness, it was foolish of me to expect my religious leaders to teach me how to know and love God.  They had no more idea of how to know and love God than I did.  I believe most of them wanted to know and love Him.  So did I.  But God wasn’t real to us.  None of us had experienced Him…His presence in a real and tangible way…enough to connect with Him, much less be intimate with Him.  So we would acknowledge that we needed to get our sense of self-worth from God and for His approval to be enough for us, but experienced neither.

How can we play to an audience of One without any awareness of His presence in the theater?

We can’t.  It was not until I experienced God’s presence and began to walk in an intimate relationship with Him…and became secure and confident in that relationship…that I was able to live for His pleasure alone, not moved by the opinions and the approval/disapproval of others.  Now I am able to hear Him when the theater is full and when it is empty.  I have learned to play to an audience of One.

And that has made all the difference. 

Responses to this article are welcomed.  You may contact the author at drdave1545@yahoo.com

Abiding in Jesus: A Lesson from the Teensy-Weensy Spider

By David Ryser

…apart from Me you can do nothing.  (Jesus of Nazareth; John 15:5c NASB)

I am often amazed, and sometimes dismayed, by what passes for news these days.  For example, right now I am sitting at my desk looking over a news story about a spider with a detachable penis.

I am not making this up.

The male orb-web spider has a detachable penis.  Now, I would not particularly care to have one of these.  But as it turns out, this is a handy thing to have if you are a male orb-web spider…because an intimate encounter gives the female orb-web spider a howling case of the munchies.  And the preferred post-coital snack of choice for the female orb-web spider is the male orb-web spider.  So the male spider is able to leave his genitalia behind to finish the job (which it does…without him being attached to it) while he, hopefully, scampers a safe distance away from the female until her hunger subsides.

So having a detachable…functioning…body part is a great blessing for the male orb-web spider.  This does not, however, work so well for the Body of Christ.

I cannot count the number of times I have read John 15:5.  And I shudder to think I may ever have preached from it.  Never has the last part of this verse impacted me as it has of late.  Jesus is not joking when He says, “apart from Me you can do nothing.”  How could I have missed that?  Because for a good part of my Christian life, I did attempt to bear spiritual fruit apart from Him.  I tried to work for Him, to accomplish great things for Him, and to live my life for Him.  Imagine my surprise when I discovered that nowhere does the Bible command me to do anything for God.

Part of the problem is our poorly translated English Bible…and poor translation leads to poor interpretation…and every version has serious problems.

In several translations, the last part of John 15:5 is rendered, “without Me you can do nothing.”  This leads us to conclude that with Jesus we can do anything.  But the Bible never says this…not in Greek, anyhow…and it flies in the face of what Jesus is teaching in the first part of John 15.  The picture here is not of a vine that is not with us.  The idea is not that we branches could bear all kinds of fruit if the vine were alongside of us.

And yet, how much preaching have we heard about how we can accomplish great things for the Kingdom of God with Jesus at our side?

Rather, the illustration Jesus uses is that of a branch that has been detached from the vine.  And the word translated “without” (χώρις) in some of the most popular English versions of the Bible, is better translated as “apart/detached from” as it is in the NASB and the NIV.  Just try to tear off a grape branch from the grapevine with your bare hands sometime.  You will discover the branch is an outgrowth of the vine…so much so that if you attempt to tear off the branch, it will shred the vine all the way to the root.

Grape branches cannot be torn off.  They must be cut off.

And if the branches are cut off from the vine, the life of the vine will not flow through them.  Not only will the branches bear no fruit, but they will also die. We are delusional if we think that we are going to produce and manifest the fruit of the life of Jesus apart from an intimate connection with Him...apart from His life flowing through us.

This theme is repeated throughout the New Testament.  Paul uses the picture of the body (us) connected to the Head (Jesus).  Imagine Paul’s reaction if we were to suggest to him that a body part could go out and accomplish anything for the head while detached from the head.  Jason Henderson illustrates the absurdity of this kind of thinking by using the example of a talking hand arguing with the head about wanting to go out and do something great for the head.  The head tries to convince the hand that it just wants the hand to be an expression of its life, and to be as active…or inactive…as the head desires at any given time.

This can turn into quite an argument.  Ask me how I know.

A body part that is detached from the head is not going to do anything useful for the head.  A body part detached from the head is not merely dysfunctional.  A body part detached from the head is dead.

Or religious.

Instead of us trying to do something for God while detached from His life, Paul presents the Christian life as our being crucified with Christ and raised up into the newness of His life.  Rather than us doing things for God, Jesus lives through us.  His life flows through us.  We abide in Him, and His life in us produces fruit.

The phrase “in Christ” (or its equivalent) is found hundreds of times in the New Testament.  Religious professionals tell us we are positionally in Christ from the time we pray a salvation prayer…also referred to as the sinner’s prayer…but that we might not experience the intimacy of that relationship until after we die.

This thinking/teaching is so fundamentally flawed, I don’t even know where to begin to tear it apart.

For one thing, the salvation/sinner’s prayer didn’t even exist until 200 years ago.  How did Peter, James, John, Paul, and the others become Christians if they didn’t pray “the prayer”?  For another, “in Christ” is a place, not a position.  It is a present reality.  The New Testament expresses this clearly…and often…but we fail to see it, partly because of bad religious teaching.    I cannot help but suspect that those who tell us we cannot expect to experience a vibrant, intimate relationship with Jesus in this life are only telling us this because they are trying to cover up the fact that they themselves do not. 

But the Bible does not teach this.  Matthew 7:22, 23 tells us clearly that we will enter the Kingdom of God, or be rejected, on the basis of whether Jesus has ever been intimate with us…while we are alive on this earth.

If anyone has a hope of being accepted on the basis of what they have done for God, the people described in Matthew 7:22 are those people.  But according to the Bible, the issue is whether Jesus “knows” (γινώσκώ) us, not what we did for Him.  Knows us…experientially and intimately.  Now…not in heaven…but now.

So let’s abandon the preposterous notion that we can be anything or do anything apart from an intimate connection with Jesus.  We can no more live apart from Him than a branch can live apart from the vine.  We can no more function apart from Him than a body part can function detached from the brain.  It’s impossible.

Unless you’re a spider penis.

Responses to this article are welcomed.  You may contact the author at drdave1545@yahoo.com

Intimacy without Familiarity: Religion's Version of Knowing God

By David Ryser

The dysfunction of the Church is that it has become a group of people who are in Christ living as though they were not, trying to get a group of people who are not in Christ to behave as though they were.  (Tim Speer)

A friend of mine recently sent me an article that, in part, is a shining example of the religious mindset when it comes to our relationship with God.  The main premise of the article is that the Church has been taken captive by a belief that “the Church” is defined as a building (with its attendant rituals and activities) rather than as a group of believers.  The author correctly observes that Jesus said He would build His Church, but we have attempted to build it for Him rather than simply to love Him and others.  In so doing, we have stolen the Church from Him.  And then we, in turn, allowed the enemy to steal the Church from us.  The author then exhorts us to turn back to God.

So far, so good.

But toward the end of the article, the author issues a warning/caveat/disclaimer that is all too common in religious writings.  What is this dire warning?  We are cautioned not to become too familiar with God lest we lose respect for Him as the all-powerful Creator of the universe.  In fact, the author claims to “see too many people who are too familiar with God.”  I find this to be an interesting claim because I don’t know anyone who is too familiar with God.  I know people who are not at all familiar with God.  These people are religious-minded people…both believers and unbelievers…who hold God at arm’s length and relate to Him as though they are on the outside of the relationship looking in.  And I know people who are familiar with God.  These people are passionate lovers of Jesus and are intimate with Him.  And they respect Him.

How can you have intimacy without familiarity?

Intimacy without familiarity is an absurd notion.  How absurd?  I dare you to apply this concept to your relationship with your spouse.  Go to your spouse and utter the following affectionate speech:  “I love you.  I love you like I love no other.  I love you passionately.  I want to be intimate with you…body and soul…so that we are one in every way.  But I don’t want to become too familiar with you for fear that I will lose respect for you.”

What?  Can you imagine how your spouse would react to this?  And is there any way you could envision that your spouse would react positively?

There is a reason this sort of drivel does not appear in romantic greeting cards.

The fact is, there is no genuine intimacy without familiarity.  And religious writers who suggest we can have intimacy with God…and then caution against familiarity with Him…are likely neither intimate nor familiar with God.  They’re merely religious.  Religion depends upon maintaining a distance in our relationship with God.  It has a vested interest in keeping us separated from God and relating to Him as though He was an abusive Father whom we must fear…and appease…in order to win His favor.

This kind of fear is central to the continued existence and success of religion.  And someone who is intimate and familiar with God is a threat to religion…and to the religious.

Jesus had this problem back in His day.  He modeled and taught an intimate…and familiar…relationship with His Father.  And religious people hated Him because of it.  They called Him a blasphemer because He called Himself the Son of God, thus making God His Father.  Jesus demonstrated the love, compassion, mercy, grace, and works of the Father.  He claimed to know the Father…in an intimate and familiar way…and religious people hated Him.

They hated Him enough to murder Him.

Is this religious spirit the same spirit that compels religious writers to caution believers against becoming too familiar with God?  I hope not.  I hope that this is merely a holdover from the religious training we’ve all received.  As we transition from religion to Jesus, it is not uncommon for us to retain religious notions and patterns of thought even as we are moving toward an ever-increasingly intimate relationship with God.  These fall away as we get nearer to Him, and it is unfair to judge too harshly someone who is in transition.

We lovers of Jesus are all in transition.

So it can be difficult to know if someone is in transition or merely a shrewd businessperson who sees an opportunity for gain in jumping aboard the loving-Jesus bandwagon.  The latter can discern what God is saying to His Church and see an opportunity to profit from the “loving Jesus fad” in some way.  So they preach and write about loving Jesus without really understanding what it is to live in intimacy with God.  They trumpet the need to be intimate with God, but are not comfortable about being familiar with Him.  So they admonish us to be intimate with God, but not to get too familiar with Him.

I am not without compassion for these people.  I was one.  I remember one day, as I was in the pulpit preaching, having the thought:  “Here I am speaking for God, and I don’t even know Him.”

This was not my happiest moment in the vocational ministry.

Jesus lived in intimate, and familiar, relationship with the Father.  And He respected the Father.  There is no hint that Jesus’ familiarity with His Father caused Him to disrespect His Father in any way.  The whole notion is ridiculous.  I don’t know anyone who is in an intimate relationship, even with another person, who is not also familiar with them.  And I know of no one who is in an intimate and familiar relationship with another person who does not highly respect that other person.

How could this be any less true of our relationship with God?

Toward the end of His ministry, Jesus revealed to His disciples that God was as much their Father as He was Jesus’ Father.  In His last conversation with His disciples, Jesus invited them into the same relationship that He had with the Father.  Not a similar relationship.  The same relationship.  The identical relationship that Jesus had enjoyed with the Father (and the Holy Spirit) from eternity past.  He prayed that His disciples…whom he now called His friends…would be one with God and with one another in the very same way that He and the Father were one.

Intimate?  Yes.  Familiar?  Absolutely.  Disrespectful?  Never.

It is a biblical and experiential…for some of us…fact that we have been invited into an intimate relationship with God.  As we grow in intimacy with Him, we also come to know Him more and to become more familiar with Him.  This intimacy and familiarity with God never causes us to be disrespectful toward Him. It is not disrespectful to God for us to enjoy Him as He enjoys us.

So we should not be made to fear intimacy and familiarity with God.  We were created for both.  We must not allow religious people to tell us that we should have intimacy with God without familiarity.  Intimacy without familiarity is not genuine love.  Intimacy without familiarity is the love of the prostitute and the gold-digger.

And I am neither.

Responses to this article are welcomed.  You may contact the author at drdave1545@yahoo.com