I have to let go of the picture of what I thought it would be like to find joy in the story I am actually living. Read on and find out what a picture of Jacob’s Well is doing in this post!
Let’s consider our conept of hope. Often, we have to release the vision of what we had ideally thought our life would be like and master recognizing delightful contentment in the story we are realistically living.
Sometimes, others jar us out of despondent brooding over how life “should” be just like in the Biblical story of Jesus and the Samaritan Woman at Jacob’s well. Jesus confronted this lonely woman when she came to draw water at her town’s well at high noon. She had been avoiding coming to this public place when all the other village women arrived in the cool, early dawn hours. I can just hear all the chatter and gossip habitually ringing through the quiet morning mist.
In contrast to this convivial bustle and hustle, the Samiratan woman was alone, running away from the harsh realities of how her ife had turned out. She accidently met Jesus at the village well where I imagine he was resting in the shade of a tree. Maybe it was a fig tree, and he was nibbling on a snack of sweet, sun-rippened figs. I imagine that this dejected woman was so preoccupied with her troubles, that she did not notice him until she was startled by his voice. Jesus asked her a to-the-point, personal question with firm kindness. See John chapter 4.
I sure do wish I could perfect the art of asking just the right questions! The Samaritan woman left her astonishingly perceptive encounter with Jesus not confused and fearful, but enlightened and hopeful; not maudlin and brooding, but with a new-found joyful anticipation of what her life could be!
In the afterglow of the holidays, will you be a harbinger of hope for your family, friends, and community?
Like the woman at the well, I was seeking, for things that could not satisfy.
And then, I heard my savior speaking, “draw from my well, that never shall run dry.”
Fill my cup Lord, I lift it up Lord, come and quench this thirsting of my soul.
Bread of heaven, feed me till I want no more, fill my cup, fill it up and make me whole.