I walked down a dirt path through an aisle of countless shops, all full of brightly colored and patterned shirts, dresses, hats and all kinds of other trinkets. My team had gone out for the night to White Beach, a beach on the island of Mindoro in the Philippines. Key chains, flip-flops, board shorts, tank tops, magnets – you name it, it was there. Yet with such an abundance of stuff, everything looked the same. From shop to shop, it was all the same stuff – cheap junk, priced for tourists, meant for drawing the eye.
As we passed through the shops and entered onto the beach, I noticed the same pattern. As far as the eye could see down the beach, there were bars and restaurants, crowded with onlookers watching fire dancers, lady-boys, and dancing women on stage. One performance would catch your eye and draw you in, but the moment you were no longer entertained, you could walk a yard to the left or right to watch a different performer. Yet no matter how entertaining it all was, it was all the same stuff, with all the same purpose – cheap junk, priced for tourists, meant for drawing the eye.
This year I have been learning a lot about intimacy, and how often we settle for cheap intimacy instead of true intimacy. It comes in a variety of forms, and for a while, I thought I didn’t struggle with it. When I thought of intimacy, I thought of sexuality, and how people often choose the cheap alternative of pornography or sex outside of marriage to feel a false sense of intimacy, which in the end, pales in comparison to the real thing. But I have learned over the past few months that we all settle sometimes for the cheap alternative. Because it’s easier.
For me, I settle for cheap affirmation from other people. Sometimes I’ll make a teasing joke or share a secret entrusted to me or neglect a commitment to a friend because I want a quick fix of affirmation from someone else. Often that means I hurt people in the process, and I realize that I am selling myself short – settling for cheap intimacy instead of seeking the true intimacy. I had never realized it before, until I read this passage from Hebrews:
“See to it that…no one is sexually immoral or unholy like Esau,
who sold his birthright for a single meal.”
Hebrews 12:16
Esau wasn’t sexually immoral. He was just hungry (Genesis 25:29-34). But he gave away a lifelong inheritance, the most valuable thing he had, to have the pleasure of instant gratification, to satisfy his immediate need and hunger. How often are we like Esau? We settle for good but miss out on the best.
As we walked off the beach and back through the shops, I realized that everyone is seeking intimacy and deep connection. We all desire something to fill that void, and some find it in souvenir shops, others on the beachfront. Some of us seek it on social media, others in shallow friendships. There are many places we can find the quick fix of affirmation, the cheap and easy intimacy that makes us feel good for a moment – but when I walked off that beach and away from the shops, I was left feeling so empty, and so broken-hearted for those people. If they only knew what they were looking for could be found and satisfied most deeply in their Heavenly Father; He offers us all the deepest form of intimacy, because He made us, and loves us more than we could ever know.
