romance did not satisfy her.
she drank so long from that broken cistern
that found her at the well, midday.
& there she met the Savior of the world,
& He touches the place most tender
when He offers her life.
& i imagine she must have said to Him:
“fine. give me this water.
give me this water because I’m sick & I’m tired of the gossip & the judgment.
I’m weary of coming to the well midday every day.
Just give me this water so I don’t have to come back here anymore.
Don’t come near there, Jesus — don’t you dare come near there.
Don’t touch that place of my heart — it’s too painful. Don’t touch it, Jesus.”
i imagine tears streaming down her face
in her longing to be fully known & fully loved,
yet her guilt debilitates her from looking in His eyes.
i imagine her frustration & embarrassment
as she tightens her grip on her bucket.
i imagine the fight within her soul — the honest relief that she doesn’t have to hide,
but the terrorizing shame that shields her from the light.
the most painful place of any human heart, i believe,
is the place where our disappointment & longing collide.
the place where we find our hands cupped, scraping the bottoms
of our empty cisterns, trying to scavenge for any thing that resembles water.
so we drink muddy puddles for the time-being.
we turn blind to the danger to quench our craving.
romance did not satisfy her.
intimacy did not satisfy her.
husbands did not satisfy her.
the world’s water left her
alone. & needy. & thirsting.
for so long,
she was the target of eye rolls & cold shoulders & silent treatment.
the victim of “there she is again” comments.
& that is who Jesus came to meet.
& in that divine appointment,
she left the thing she came to get
because she found something better:
Him.
for the first time, she forgets what is seen.
she found Him to be more beautiful.
Article Written By: Bethany Kuiken
