Quotes about Intimacy

The gift of presence is a rare and beautiful gift. To come - unguarded, undistracted - and be fully present, fully engaged with whoever we are with at that moment.

You can't ask Christ to come into your wound while you remain far from it. You have to go there with him. Lord Jesus, I give my life to you—everything I am, everything I have become. I surrender myself to you utterly. Come and be my Lord. Be my healer. I give you my wounded heart. Come and meet me here. Enter my heart and soul, my wounds and brokenness, and bring your healing love to me in these very places.

I realize that many dear followers of Christ have been taught that God only speaks to his sons and daughters through the Bible. The irony of that theology is this: that's not what the Bible teaches! The Scriptures are filled with stories of God speaking to his people—intimately, personally.

God wants to live this life together with you, to share in your days and decisions, your desires and disappointments. He wants intimacy with you in the midst of the madness and the mundane, the meetings and the memos, the laundry and the lists, the carpools and conversations and projects and pain. He wants to pour his love into your heart and he longs to have you pour yours into his.

Reading the prophets, says Yancey, is like hearing a lovers' quarrel through the apartment wall.

And he wants you to be utterly yourself, with him.

If I've lost the capacity for, and the enjoyment of relationship, I know things are deeply off in my soul.

Sex can be such a stark barometer for a marriage.

Then I ask for more of God: Jesus—I need more of you; fill me with more of you, God. Restore our union; fill me with your life.

Intimacy with God is the purpose of our lives. It's why God created us.

I never knew before, what such a love as you have made me feel, was; I did not believe in it; my Fancy was afraid of it, lest it should burn me up. But if you will fully love me, though there may be some fire, 'twill not be more than we can bear when moistened and bedewed with Pleasures.

Pillow'd upon my fair love's ripening breast, To feel for ever its soft swell and fall, Awake for ever in a sweet unrest, Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath, And so live ever-or else swoon to death.