My family is fighting the junk. All kinds of different junk. Some are willing will go to the doctor and take their medicine. Some fight tooth and nail. They need medicine but just hate relenting and giving in to the fact they need help. My husband is the worst. He is the biggest baby I know and will stay sick twice as long as he needs to just to not have to go to the doctor. Not sure the under laying reasons why but I am sure we all have some.
I am not only fighting physical junk but I am fighting emotional and mental junk too. I need something only God,the ultimate physician, can give.
I read the story today of the woman at the well. I have read it so many times before. Today was different. Today I had made a willing decision to act (or rather react) out of the very deep seeded anger I have been trying to dig out of my heart. (Worse yet I was trying so hard to apply truth but my I DONT CARE THEY DESERVE IT attitude won out). I was treated with disrespect the other day and it wasn’t handled how I thought it should have been. I am not even sure it was addressed at all. It has been churning inside me for two days like this virus that has a hold of my house. Today I reacted in a way that was just so not what I should have done. I knew it and it made me physically ill. So as I was reading this story today I was moved.
Her she was at the well. No one else in town wanted to be anywhere near her. They talked about her, laughed at her, judged her. They identified her for her sin. She probably went to that well alone every single day. It must have been hard to walk and hear the whispers and see people huddled together pointing. Yet today would be different. Today as she drew water from this well a man approached. Did HE not know he shouldn’t be talking to her? Did SHE not know who He was? I wonder if at first she was scared to answer when he spoke. This man, he knew everything about her. “But I am unclean, a sinner, no one speaks to me. ” He knew. He knew of her past and her present. Of her struggles and desire to be loved. He knew of her secret longings and her deepest fears. Most importantly He could see all that she was intended to be. If only she would drink from the well that would never run dry. She didn’t quite understand. He gently explained. As only He can. He spoke to the deepest places in her heart and He challenged her to drink and live anew.
I need that touch. Part of what I am dealing with is because of choices I made. Some is because of others behavior I can not change. Regardless I have to drink of this well. The well of living water! As I was reading this story today I wondered what if it was me. “But Lord I just wanted someone to love me. I wanted to love someone else and help and fix and…………..” I could hear Him say “I know!” “Then why can’t they just be appreciative? Respectful? Don’t they realize what I have sacrificed?” and he replied “I understand those feelings too. Nailed to that cross I wondered the same things! Yet I did as my Father asked me to. Not because it was easy but because it was my purpose. It was so living water would be yours. It was so you could rest in me and lean on me and let go and let me.”
He doesn’t care who I am or what I have done. What matters is I drink, accept, live and run every moment of every day through Him. That I allow Him to be my avenger if need be. To be my healer, my hope, the joy and the lifter of my head. That I allow Him to work in me and to work in those around me. I am not perfect. I have no more room to judge another than those people who whispered about that woman at the well. And as that woman, because I am her too, I have no need to fear what others say or think for what matters is that my sin can be washed white as snow. Nothing I have done is worse than another. The way someone treats me is as wrong as the way I sometimes have treated others. A sin is a sin and the punishment or the pardon is the same regardless of who I am.
I had to fix my wrong today. I have only been able to do so partially but I know I have to finish making amends. As I struggled with my pride (because I felt so vindicated) I realized that I need His touch and His living water to flood my soul over and over and over again. And that is okay. I am not perfect and I am not expected to be. He did that for me too. He walked a mile in my shoes. He knows what it is like to deal with the things I deal with and He knows what it is like to be mistreated and abused. He will make a way when I can not see one. That is the cool thing about water. As it runs over and over and over the same places it carves out niches and grooves where ever they need to be. As living water floods my soul, as I drink from the well that never runs dry, He creates in me a place like no other. For along the banks of any river are the signs of a creator who knows every tree and every flower and every bird that sings. In this place of living water life springs forth and the good things intended to grow in my life produce fruit. They bud and blossom and reach their full potential.
I am so glad He choice to live His purpose instead of getting even. I am so thankful that He offers to me living water. I am so thankful that even when I mess up He restores my soul.