The Kindest Thing I Have Ever Seen

John 4 ~

She has always been this wondrous thing, this marvel of marvels, this woman at the well.  Her story, we do know a few of the sordid details.  Things were not as they ought to have been ~ the whispering, wagging tongues toted that tale all over town.  This woman at the well, all the women did know and all the wagging tongues did tell ~ she was not as she was suppose to be.  And all the whispering women make this woman at the well all the more wondrous.  She was not as she was suppose to be.

She went alone to the well that day, quite possibly to avoid all the finger wagging women.  She went alone to the well and she would learn a thing or two about true, living water.

The world constantly reminded woman at the well that she was not what she ought to be.

Five husbands and now another.  Adulterer.

But, He met her there at the well.  What a Wonder.  Taking a cup of water from an adulterer.  He certainly is the Wonder of the world.

I too know the long stares, the whispering, wagging tongues.  I was, I am not what I ought to be.  I do and did know better, but yet, I have faltered.

And I too have walked to many wells, alone.  So wanting to avoid the whispering, the murmurings.  Solitary sinner, woman at the well.  I know this place oh so well.  And that is why she and He, are such a beautiful wonder at the well.

Solitary sinner could not handle another long stare so she ventured out into solitude.  And this wayward woman would meet the Wonder of the world at that well.

The Wonder of the world.  He met her that day, He purposed a path to meet this solitary sinner for He desired, intended to share His saving grace with solitary sinner.

Oh, the church does whisper about the woman at the well.  We tell her sordid story, we sip coffee over her every slip, her mis-step.

But, the Wonder of the world does not whisper, He simply meets with woman at the well.  And He tells her a new tale ~ a tale of silenced murmurings and offered mercy.

The Wonder and the woman at the well.  Oh, fantasy turned reality.  Wonder and the woman at the well.

He is so sweet to taste, after long droughts of thirst.  And after the parched throat swallowing down all the whisperings, the murmurings ~ now the sweet of His offered living water.  Soothing balm to her parched lips and cracking throat.

~

I sat there silenced.  The priest covered in ink and with a few sordid stories of his own, he said these words that silenced my soul, chilled me to the bone.  "We know there are many Christian women seeking abortions because they can not face the shame from the church.  Pastor fathers taking daughters to kill grand babies because they can not face the shame given by congregations."

I sat, silence sinking like ice into my soul.

What have we done?  Oh sweet Jesus, what have we done to the woman at the well?  The solitary sinner.  What have we done to You?

Babies murdered because they know no mercy will be offered.  What have we done?

I sat, silence sinking into my solitary sinner soul.

I have been sordid sinner sitting solitary.  And, I am certainly sure I have been murmuring member of the "body" offering shame rather than mercy.  Oh, what have I done?

Savior slips me back into the details of that day.  Slips me into the sordid story and shows again how Savior meets with sinners.  And He tells me, this is as you are to do ~

You go into the highways and byways, to the wells where solitary sinners sit and languish lonely over their unquenchable thirst.  You offer them living water, not judgmental whisperings.  You extend a hand of mercy, not condemning murmurings.  They have faltered.

And I do so deeply remember the day at the well He met with me in all of my failings, all of my faltering.  You met me there and revealed to me the Wonder of the world.

I remember, I am woman at the well and I am whispering woman as well ~ I have been both and You met me anyway.  Oh, the Wonder of the world.

~

Often the church can be merciful to the lost but surely merciless to our own.  "Well, she knew better."  And certainly to be true ~ I knew better and yet, I still stumbled.  And the church was brutal in their pummeling in my stumbling.  And yet, I have turned at times and said the same words, "Well, she should have known better."  Oh, the hypocrisy in one soul can be terribly frightening.

But, I wondered at this maxim of ours, 'They knew better,' as we throw a few stones at the sinner.  The sinner who knew better, raised in a Christian home, has a faith foundation ~ how dare they falter!  I wonder at our stones and our justifications.

That day at the well, with the woman whom sat alone to avoid the whisperings ~ she said this thing, ". . . our father Jacob . . . Sir, I perceive that You are a prophet.  Our fathers worship here . . . "  And then she said this, "I know that Messiah is coming . . . He will tell us all things." (vs 12, 19, 25)

This woman at the well whom sat with the Wonder of our world ~ she certainly knew a thing or two of the faith.  Our father, Jacob.  Our fathers worship.  Here we have one who "knew," she knew better.  She knew the lingo, the vernacular of our religiosity ~ prophets and such!  She "knew" better!  Woman at the well, "knew better."

I held my breath ~ certain that my Wonder would throw no stones.  But, she knew better.  And I sat as woman at the well, adulterer with those sordid six affairs, that solitary sinner.  But, yet I stood a few feet away with stone in hand.  You see, I have been both ~  solitary sinner with all the sordid stories and I have been the stone thrower as well.

And my Wonder, has been neither.  I have been both.

I watched from both angles ~  saying not a word, taking not a breath.

What would the Wonder of the world do?  She certainly knew better, should I toss Him a stone?  But, solitary sinner aches for a gentle touch, a kind word.  I have certainly been, am still today ~ both.

Saying not a word, watching breathlessly.  As both, I can not see what the answer should be.

But, He does this thing, this marvelous thing.  The kindest thing I think I have ever seen.  To solitary sinner sitting at the well our Wonder reveals Himself as Savior for the first time ever!  There are no stones and yet, the sin He does not condone.  Rather He reveals Truth and peels back the veil from a mystery of the ages and He reveals Himself to that woman at the well!  Woman whom went alone to the avoid the whisperings and He met her and for the first time as we know ~ He declares Himself as Messiah!  (vs 26)

It is quite unfathomable.  Sordid stories received no blows by stones.  Her sin was not condoned but Wonder of the world threw no stones that day or any other day.

His response was all mercy and goodness.  The kindest thing I have ever seen.

Romans 2:4 ~ "for the goodness of God leads us to repentance."

As woman at the well and the stone thrower ~ I witnessed the kindness thing I have ever seen.

He reveals mystery untold that day at the well.  To solitary sinner with all the sordid stories.

To the church it was unthinkable, unconscionable and unacceptable to even pass a word with such a woman.  And yet, He offers mystery revealed and living water to that woman at the well.

And all our maxims about, "knowing better" and "faith foundations" ~ our justifications as we lob a stone, or pass a rumor, or isolate a sinner whom "should have known better"?  Well, I see with stone in my hand ~ we are just solitary sinners with stones.  All one in the same ~ sinners who have faltered ~ all who have but one Savior.  And our Savior never throws stones at a sinner.

A woman at a well or a woman walking into a clinic.  What would the Wonder of the world say?

"I who speak to you am He."  Your Messiah.  Your Savior.  Your Living Water.  (vs 26)

And the truth that she "knew better" is no matter.  He came to save sinners and we ALL are such.

Church can we lay down the stones?  Never throw at each other?  She faltered, she fell.  She knew better, but that was no matter.  He saves us all the same.

Oh Jesus, our Wonder of the world ~ forgive us for the tiny ones lost for the Mamas who could not face the shame we gave.

Oh Jesus, forgive us our sordid stories and our stones thrown.  You, Savior offer nothing but goodness that causes repentance.

That day at the well.  From both perspectives.  I saw Him do the kindest thing I have ever seen.

Cause us to do the same Jesus!

Just Around the Bend

Did you know it is but half a mile?  My slow sojourn over dry, dusty ground ~ but half a mile.  The rhythm would surely weary some, a slow steady trudging but a handful of feet to turn and return just as I had come.

Thy rhythm of but half a mile might wear on some, but my slight slice of road, is a slight slice of heaven.  Just a sliver of ethereal and my heavy footfalls fall are oh, so grateful for my sliver.

Dry, dusty road runs with the stream.  Trees and greenery abound.  Today, deep into the midst of earth's flowery bloom there are brilliant splashes of color expertly spread about.  Stream runs, ever running telling me tales of a better place, babbling stories of Grace.

In the rhythm of the run, the running water runs much of my worries and cares away.  In my slight slice of heaven, as sun sparkles on stream, I feel there is so much more than meets the eye.  I run in slight slice of heaven, heavy footfalls fall deep into Hope and Faith.

But, do you also know that this slight slice where I sojourn, ends at pack of crazed dogs?  Just right there, just around the bend are crazed canines that would certainly, gladly tear me from limb to limb.

I make my turn just before they would be visible to me, and I to them.

Many footfalls fall under their noise and clamor of their desirous growling.  I hear their angry cries often, demanding of me in their growling.

Just right there, just around the bend.  I mark my turn by their snapping jaws and very angry calls.

I sojourn my slight slice of heaven, a bit of ethereal splendor just on the border of their crazed frenzy.

Under the chill of the early morning light I wondered at this reality, my reality.  It seemed a bit odd to trudge and traipse through His beauty just around the bend from what might certainly be my death or at least my maiming.  Strange.  A bit odd.  Some would say possibly unwise.  And yet, not only did my trudging under their snarling NOT feel unwise, it felt necessary.  As if to say to their angry cries, their demanding of my flesh growling ~ I will not be forced as prisoner in my home.  And, you can NOT steal my slight slice of heaven.  You do not have that power over me.

I continued on at their cries, turned and made my way through wonderful sliver He has gifted me and then I heard Him say ~
           "He who dwells in the secret place of the Most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty."  (Psalm 91:1)

Slight smile now carried me a few more yards.  This is us, this is His people, His remnant.  We labor and toil under the Son and He gifts us our slight slice of heaven we sojourn through ~ our Secret Place.  

And yes, we do know our Secret Place is surrounded my crazed pack of canines.  We hear their calling cries, we do know they aim to maim or just to steal, kill and destroy.  But, we trek through our days knowing and believing they can not alter our ways.  His ways.  The things He has given us to do, our slight sliver of heaven ~ He gifted it and we shall not allow them to steal it.

In our present climate I hear the snap of their vicious bite in startling and terrifying intensity.  The pack appears to have multiplied, grown rapidly in these few days, short weeks into several months.  But, against the Cross of Christ their angry cry is all bark and no bite and we must not give even an inch of our slight slice, give not way to fear at their foul cry.  The pack is yapping, crazed and frenzied for they know their time draws nigh.

I do know their incessant, crazed cries can be slightly overwhelming but this it no time for us to cower under their cries.  He has gifted us our sliver, our slice, our Secret Place and we must sojourn our sliver with full confidence in He who is able to keep us.

I trudge a trail under His blazing Son ~ a slight slice of heaven, just around the bend from their demanding cries.  He knew it would be as such for a season on this broken, spinning globe and underneath His Son blazing down He gifted us our Secret Place, our sliver.

Let us walk in it, run in it, rejoice in it and carry it out to this broken down world about.  They are desperate for just a taste, a glimmer of what we carry in our heart.

" . . .  He has placed eternity in their hearts . . . "  (Ecclesiastes 3:11)

Grace of the Ages

There on that hard packed dirt road, he flew just past me.  Just right there, just right before me.  Alighted high atop a tree, he did.  Dry, dusty road and sun blazing hot down and there he was just above.  Middle of the sun blazing day, he came to rest just there before me.

Grace.  Grace of the ages in those wings spread reaching, climbing through the air.  Grace of the ages in the middle of the sun blazing down day on that dusty road.

He landed high to the right of me, I froze daring not to break the majestic spell that had just alighted to the right of me.

His back was all he showed, at first, but I waited silently.  He knew I was there.  I waited, as statue, waited for the majesty of the moment to look full at me.  And then, just then in the middle of the sun blazing down day he turned those eyes upon me.  Grace of the ages in those spread wings and wisdom of the cosmos in those round, wide orbs.  He looked full on me, me frozen on hard packed dirt road.  He looked full on me and certainly deep within me, that sagacious creature knowing a depth of truth and creation that I have not yet even begun to scratch the surface of that knowing.

Under that sun blazing down day, he and I stared in a full knowing for an eternity of a moment.  He who certainly knew that he ought to have stayed under the cover of night, he had ventured this journey over my dusty day and laboring run.  I was quite certain he had been sent to turn those round orbs to me ~ to look full well into me with an unwavering glance.

We live in a world where we are almost always seen, yet hardly ever known.

And yet there he was, watching and knowing.  Me.  

In our present world of pages full of friends and likes and yet, so few feel even known at all.  And certainly not truly 'liked'.  We exist in a society that rarely knows how to slow for anything and certainly can not slow to know a someone in their reality.  In this world, I think we may have felt isolated long before this present 'forced isolation.'  We have languished long at being unseen long before we were told we had better not be seen.

Were we ever really known?  Even before this madness of forced hiddenness, had not we already felt hidden from any true knowing of one other?

And I have run many long, lonely miles down long, lonely lanes in my days.  Unknown.  Irrelevant.  Certainly not needed.  Long, dusty miles on lonely lanes through a tucked away, hidden life.  Buried under a world too wild for me to be seen and lost under this load of aloneness, and surely lost under loads of laundry.  Wondering under the buried-ness of it all ~ does He ever really see me?  With the millions into billions of masses and with the so very little bit of usefulness I offer, how can He care to see me?  Down long, lonely miles in a tucked away and seemingly insignificant existence, what is there for Him to really see?

And what was it in those wise eyes, under the sun blazing day, looking full well right into me that spoke of His eyes ever on me?  I am not entirely sure and yet, there it was, the Truth of the ages on that dusty, dirt road ~ His eyes are ever on me and there is no turning, no glancing away.  He ever looks upon me; down long, lonely miles in my fairly insignificant moments into years, He never looks away.  That Godly glance is always upon me.

And as the world spins quiet these days, do you know His Godly glance is always upon you?  Has your globe stopped galloping about enough for you to see His goodness that was always about?

I do so wish you had been with me there, under the middle of the sun blazing down day.  With me when He looked full well into my soul and did not turn away.  Oh, how lovely it would have been for you to have seen the grace alight atop the tree, if you could have seen that with me.

I wonder at the losses.  All the loss.  All about.  But then, there was that Godly glance just there, that eye upon me that spoke that it will never leave me, never turn from me.  All the loss may yet just bring us such a gain, such a Godly gain.  What would it mean if we could all see, begin to truly see His eye ever upon us?

The losses are real ~ mortal enemy waging war against our mortal bodies, vicious attack against our personal liberties and certainly so much economical loss.  But, as the world slows its spin and in the midst of the stillness of it all, if we finally do see His Godly glance that has ever been upon us, then certainly it is all to our GAIN.  Eternal gain to know His glance upon our mortal frame.  All for our gain, loss at the temporary that gives into the eternal is for our gain.

I encourage you, challenge you to set out to find His ever upon you Godly glance.  Eyes wide open, hearts full of expectancy, we journey out to find His eye ever upon us.  Upon you.

And that moment of an eternity, under the middle of the sun blazing down day, he whom ought to have been wise enough to stay under the guise of the night, he turned and looked full well into me.  And under His eye, His ever present eye, His Godly glance I run down long, lonely lanes and certainly sojourn a dusty path or two ~ but never without His eye ever upon me.  Always knowing me full well, and loving me yet.

It is all to our gain, this present loss, if our world slows just a bit and we fully and finally see that Godly glance that has always just alighted upon me.  Upon you.