He walked into my hotel room with a mumbled “hello.”

    Though my life’s work is helping people and though I enjoy it very much, I employ a policy that never allows people to come to my motel room. Never. But Sam had seen an ad in his local newspaper advertising that the president of Family Dynamics was speaking at a local church. Hoping that I might deliver him from the demon tormenting him, he found my lodging and implored a meeting until I yielded.

    Now he stood silently before me, head hanging and shoulders drooping, until I directed him to the worn sofa situated in the middle of the room. I took the only other chair the proprietor had thought to furnish. Without looking up, Sam started into his story. It was the same story I’ve heard from countless others who, by their own actions, have caused the walls of their lives to crash in on themselves and everyone they love.

    He’d been married twenty years, but for some time now, his relationship with his wife had barely existed. They’d drifted apart, taken up separate interests, and spent little time together — except during social functions, like church. They weren’t sure they loved each other anymore. At least that was Sam’s perspective.

    Just two weeks before — on a whim — he had wheeled into a strip bar. Strip bars weren’t a part of his lifestyle, and under normal circumstances they held no temptation for him. But on that particular night, he was feeling empty, alone. He was looking for something; he just wasn’t sure what it was. Without any acknowledged thought process, he walked through the door into a world that had never existed for him before, unaware that he was leaving a world to which he might never return.

    It was quite an eventful night. By the time the sun groggily crawled over the horizon to reveal its own bloated, flushed face, Sam was recovering from his drinking binge while finishing breakfast at an all-night greasy spoon with a stripper half his age. They’d talked about life, dreams, and the futures they wished for but feared might never be. He told me how they’d instantly hit it off on some deep level, how she understood him like no one ever had, and how he had always longed for this kind of friendship with a woman.

    Within a week he’d left his wife, rented an apartment, and moved in with this twenty-something whose trade in life was erotically enticing drunken men to give her their money.

    Quite a rapid change for a churchgoing, pillar-in-the-community businessman and father.

    Too much change. He couldn’t live with it.

He was looking for something; he just wasn’t sure what it was.

    After just a few days with his newfound “soul mate,” Sam had awakened to the realization that he didn’t want to spend another night with this stripper. Guilt consumed him, and he surprised himself by discovering that he missed his wife — the woman he had convinced himself he had no affection for whatsoever. Bewildered and disoriented, he told the stripper to leave and spent the rest of the day wandering about in dazed confusion until he noticed the ad in the newspaper. That’s when he tracked me down—the stranger he hoped could fix all this.

    All my religious and moral values were offended by his actions, but I felt no anger toward him. What he had done was wrong — very wrong — but I was more interested in saving him than chastising him. Besides, I don’t think I could have awakened any more guilt in him than he already felt.As he finished telling me about the events of the last two weeks, he looked at me and asked the question I knew was coming. Not only did 1 anticipate the question, I knew the answer.

    ‘Why?” he begged. “Why would I do a thing like that? It’s so foreign to everything that I believe, everything that I am. Can you tell me why I’m doing what I’m doing?“

    I paused just for a moment as an involuntary sigh escaped, then replied gently, “Sam, more of us have struggled with that question than you can ever know. I think I know exactly what is driving you — the same thing that drives so many people to misguided actions. It’s the search for intimacy.

    “You crave a warm, intimate, close relationship with another human being, and you were trying desperately to find something, someone, who promised to give it to you. Even though you didn’t know what to call it, you knew that you wanted someone to share your very self with — your hopes, your dreams, your fears. That’s what thought you’d found in your stripper.

    “But somehow, you’ve managed to discover what so many haven’t figured out: Sex and intimacy aren’t the same thing. That’s why you told the stripper to leave. You longed for intimacy, but all you got was sex.

    “If you ever had intimacy with your wife, you lost it long ago. But you don’t want it lost. You want it so badly that your misguided search has cost you what little intimacy you had left. Sadly, your search is taking you farther from the treasure you seek.”

    I talked longer, fleshing out the thoughts above, until he interrupted my soliloquy by beginning to cry. Not the gentle, quiet weeping of tender moments. No, it was the bitter, angry expression of grief that accompanies a crushing discovery. With wonderment washing his eyes, he nearly shouted, “You’re right! Oh, my God, you’re right!”

    Ultimately, I convinced Sam to call his minister. I sat listening as he laid out the skeleton of the story over the line, asking if the minister would go with him to tell his wife. They worked out a time to meet, talk in more detail, and pray before visiting with her. When Sam finished the conversation, I prayed with him and sent him on his way.

    He left with a mixture of horror and hope. I didn’t know which of those emotions would find its fulfillment. I knew that by the grace of God I’d started Sam on the right path, but I also knew that his own sinful actions had strewn that path with danger, pitfalls, and seemingly insurmountable obstructions.

    I watched through the curtains as he drove away, praying again for God’s will to be done for Sam and his wife. I wanted to have hope for them. Maybe his wife would forgive him and, despite what he had done, work toward intimacy. Maybe he could focus on his relationship with her, find forgiveness, and find what he was seeking.

    Maybe...

By Joe Beam, Chairman and Founder, Family Dynamics Institute. From his book, "Becoming One" © 1999, Howard Publishing Company. Used by permission. This article cannot be reprinted in another publication without written permission of the publisher. Click here to buy this title online!

Title: "The Craving for Intimacy: God Created Us for ONEness"
Author: Joe Beam
Publication Date: January 18, 2002

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