And she ran.
She ran with tears so hot streaming down her face that her clothes began to smolder. Smolder with the potential of fire being released through those tears.
Those tears represented every hope, hurt and every “whatever” she whispered.
Never deterred she kept running. Running where? Anywhere but where she was. Running straight into the well that offered her hope.
The well of life, Jesus himself, was waiting there to meet her. Meeting her in her pain, meeting her as her head hung low. Meeting her with love and the very words she had been looking for, words that contained life, words that swallowed death and removed the sting of every thing she couldn’t understand.
She came crashing into the well, stopping herself, she gazed into the dark well. The well seemed to go on for miles with no end in sight, into the abyss if you will. Seeing no one, she looked around. As always, seeking to see if someone, just one person could make sense of anything.
Desperately looking for someone, anyone, it was only her shadow she saw. Shadows were familiar to her. An emptiness began to surface within her and ironically, it was the very thing she saw when she gazed into the well.
Empty. The well called out to her.
Dreary. The mystery of it drew her.
It appeared so hollow, a sad reminder of things she had experienced. She leaned in closer and sobs that could no longer be contained began to drop tear by tear with every confession she made. The empty well began to speak back as if it was encouraging the outburst of her emotional tyrant.
Somehow, this well began to envelop her and a reservoir of water began to spring from this well, soaking and consuming every painful memory. This was no ordinary water, water as pure as the sky is blue. Yet this water. This water was red, crimson. More like blood.
Blood that brought life to this ordinary girl. Magical in it’s ability to transform every cell and thought she had. She thought to herself, “ Could it be?” Suddenly, She felt the warmth of a love that no word could express.
So pure and yet it reminded her of the tears that felt like fire. A love so pure, so fervent that it was able to burn away despair.
Though she felt so lost she knew at this moment she had been found.
Found and healed by this love, by the man who knew everything about her and said it without saying a word to her. His eyes spoke with a fervent love.
The dread now turned to delight, the despair was now turned into a platform to prepare.
Prepared to dance, she danced her way into the courtyard of Grace. Grace had now lifted her up from the pit and took her to the well. The well of life and learning. Wells have purposes to discard the old and draw up the new.
The invisible becomes visible when we are healed. Darkened understanding becomes enlightened because we see the one who sees us. The well of life is where we can go to dwell, to rest, to deposit the dreads of life and to drink deep.
Drink deep of living water from a living well that never runs dry.
A well that never tires of your deposits or withdrawals.
A well that is waiting for you.
A well that is alive.
A well that reminds you, everything will be alright.
Have you been to the well?
Leave me a comment and let’s talk about it.