The Woman of Samaria



There she goes ...
     the Woman of Samaria.
          I can see her in my mind's eye.
She is wearing a loose dress,
     the colour of burlap,
          somewhat like a long potato sack,
               cinched with a twisted cord of rope.

     It reaches down to a few inches above her sandalled feet.
She is wearing a headpiece of the same colour.
     It falls in folds halfway down her back.
On her right shoulder
          she is balancing a water jug,
               rather large in my eyes.
Surely it's heavy when it's full.

There she goes ...
     the Woman of Samaria ...
          walking to the well.
She travels down the well-worn path from town
     as it twists and turns,
          intimately acquainted, in her solitariness,
               with every curve,
                    every boulder and every lonely blade of grass.

Tunelessly she hums into the stillness
     of the noontime air.
Scuffing her feet,
          she raises little wisps of dust.
The perspiration beads on her upper lip
     and runs in rivulets down her back
          and between her breasts.

It is hot and sticky this time of the day
          but its the only time she feels safe
               to go for the water she needs.
     Safe from the taunts and innuendos,
          the glares and the hisses,
               the damning laughter of the other women.
The heat of the cloudless sky is more merciful than they.

Walking along - alone - lost in her thoughts
     she is startled to hear voices
          coming towards her
               just around the bend.
She casts down her eyes and moves over ...
     to avoid the men she sees approaching.
          Glancing up briefly
               she catches one hostile glare.

Glares are nothing new to her
     but this is different.
These men are Jews - not Samaritans - not her neighbours.
     They abruptly move further away from her
          as if she had the plague....
               Samaritans and Jews do not associate.

As she gets further along she no longer hears them.
Instead, the clicking and buzzing of countless insects grows louder.
     She relaxes and begins to sing a snatch of song,
               something she heard at a campfire one night.

          As the deer longs for flowing streams,
          so my soul longs for you, O God.
               My soul thirsts for the living God.
          When shall I come and behold the face of God?
               My tears have been my food day and night,
          While people say to me continually,
               "Where is your God?"

Despite her dreary hard life - she still hopes,
     still clings to the stories
          she heard as a child about Yahweh.

At last the well is in sight.
     But, what is this?
          A man - alone - sits by the well.
               A Jew.  Another Jew.
She feels tense, wary
     all her senses are heightened.
          Danger screams through every second that passes.
               She is alone...
                    a woman alone with a strange man.
She thinks: "Who IS this guy?
               What does He want?"

He is just sitting there
     looking dusty and worn and tired
          but strangely peaceful and calm
               and - despite the dust - radiant.

He smiles.
He speaks.
Breaks the silence and,
     in an instant,
          tears down the walls that distance ...
               that distance Jews and Samaritans
               that distance Women and Men.

He speaks.
     "Give me a drink."
It is so astonishing that
     she blurts back the question,
          "How is it, that YOU, a JEW - a MAN,
               ask a drink of ME, a WOMAN of SAMARIA?"

This man wastes no time debating
     but challenges her:
     "If you knew the gift of God, and who it is
          that is saying to you, 'Give me a drink,'
               you would have asked him,
                    and he would have given you living water."

The woman is so startled, so overwhelmed,
     so on fire with excitement, she babbles:
          "You have no bucket!"
               "The well is deep."
                    "Where do you get this water?"
               "Are you better than our ancestor Jacob?"
          "Do you know what you're saying?"

To herself, she says,
     "I must be dreaming.  It must be the heat.
          I feel so dizzy."

This man goes on, in the midst of her confusion,
     "Everyone who drinks this water will thirst again
          but those who drink of the water I will give them
               will never again thirst.
          My water will become in them a spring
               of water, gushing up to eternal life.

"Sir," she pleads, "give me this water so I'll never be thirsty
     and I'll never have to come back here to draw water again."
She doesn't know what she is saying.
     She is standing on strange ground.
          Everything is upside down and different today in this place.

Then, the man totally blows her away.
     He knows everything about her, the whole sorry tale,
          and tells her,
               about her mixed-up life,
                    the five husbands
                         and the live-in lover she has now.
                              Everything.
Back and forth this preposterous conversation goes.

Finally she tells him,
     "I know that Messiah is coming
          and when he comes
               he will tell us all things."


           "I am he!  The one who is speaking to you."

The words of the song from the campfire come back to her:
          When shall I come and behold the face of God?


                        *****************

Sister of Samaria,
     I reach out to you
          across the years,
To ask you about what happened that day.
     Can you tell me?
          Did he touch your heart?
               Did he really reach in and renew you?
What happened to you after he left
     and the days and months went by?
          What happened when you heard
               he'd gone up to Jerusalem
                    to hang on a Cross and die?
Or, were you there?
     With the other women,
          at the foot of the cross?
               With his mother,
                    in an agonizing wait,
                         when darkness fell on the land?

O, Sister of mine,
     without a name,
          You are not anonymous!
               Your story's been told.
                    We're telling it new.
                         You are not anonymous!

Sister of Samaria,
     I reach out to you across the years.
          If you were here
               I'd give you a hug and a smile and
                    I'd hold on tight.
But you are not here - so - the gift I'll give
     in your memory
          is
     to love those who are here with me tonight.
          I'll give them a hug and a smile
               and I'll hold on tight.

Goodnight, Sister, Goodnight.


© Charlene Elizabeth Fairchild 1994

Burdens

I ran across this scripture out of the book of Luke this morning. 

Jesus replied, "And you experts in the law, woe to you, because you load people down with burdens they can hardly carry, and you yourselves will not lift one finger to help them. (Luke 11:46).

In Luke Chapter 11, Jesus is rebuking the "lawyers" or experts of the law, pretty harshly because they are what I call "hyper-spiritual".  They have claimed things their fathers did as their own, and are being chastised for being clean on the outside, but not on the inside.  My pastor calls these type of folks "make-believers".  They DO all the right things, but bear no fruit of a relationship with God (Jesus) - my own translation of my pastor's definition.

And in response to them telling Jesus that when He is rebuking them he is offending them, Jesus says, in this verse, that they are literaly loading burdens on people that they cannot carry and yet, they don't lift a finger to help them.

It left me with the impression that they wanted to point their fingers and say all the critical ways people were not like them, and exalt themselves and their great heritage, and yet, after putting down the people, and criticising them and pointing out all the ways in which they are broken or fail, they did nothing to assist them.

At the end of the Chapter, in verse 54, it says that these "pharasees" plotted to catch Jesus in something He might say - to catch Him in doing or saying something incorrect or not accurate, because they became hostile.

Now of course, Jesus was and is God, and was and is perfect, and therefore, I doubt they ever "caught" Him in error.  We have multiple records of where they tried to catch Him, to find fault, but they never did - He was and is the perfect will of God.

But, I wonder, as people, and as followers of Christ, do we do that to others?  Do we come along side them and in well-meaning ways point out the "speck" in our brother or sister's eye, or expose their weakness and faults (their very brokeness that often times they have allowed us to see in trust and vulnerability) and then plot to point out all the ways they fall short?

Recently, I have seen some of that in my own life show up on both the receiving and giving end for me and so, am guilty of doing this myself and having it done to me.

As I look in the mirror more and more clearly (1 Corinthians 13) I wonder, how many people in my own life, have I put aside or shut out because they were broken and, was so quick to point out their shortcomings and weaknesses in my attempt to "fix them" or "help them."  Of course, my outward conscious motivation was to help, but in the end, in clarity, anyone who is in Christ is a new creation, amen? 

We are called to love our neighbor as ourself.....

Today, on the eve of Thanksgiving, I am truly thankful that in Christ I myself am a new creation.  I am thankful that His mercy is new every morning and so is mine because He is in me.  I am thankful that He calls things which are NOT (currently) as if they (already) ARE and that I rely upon that in faith.

I am thankful that He who started this work in me is FAITHFUL to complete it to His glory. 

And, I am thankful in my own brokeness and limitations and I am happy that "for just as the sufferings of Christ flow over into our lives, so also through Christ our comfort overflows."

I pray Father and thank you, in Jesus's name, that I am NOT a pharasee, weighing down others with burdens and not lifting a finger to help ease them.  I thank YOU that I have eyes to see Your children and my brothers and sisters with the eyes You have and hear with the ears You have, for them, Amen.

"...And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love." (1 Corinthians 13:13).

"I am giving you a new commandment to love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another."  (John 13:34).

We Have a Winner!

Last night in my women’s group, we sat listening to one of the women share.  At it’s core, she was saying that she had friendships and in these certain friendships she was the one fostering and keeping these friendships alive by always being the one who texts, calls, invites and, when she made a conscious effort to cease - her phone and email fell absolutely silent.   She felt frustrated.   In the end, the discussion centered around Philippians 4:3 about thinking on good things, whatever is noble, and lovely….etc., and that we need to always focus our attention on those things above and on good things, and not allow our minds or the enemy distract us with negative things and critical, judgmental things.  She discerned, that since she had become a Christian she felt a distance with many of her friends that were not believers in Jesus, and as she stepped farther and farther down the path with God, the distance grew and grew.  Ultimately, she recognized that while she really wanted them to come along on her journey, it was time to “let go and let God” be in charge of the increase.  Amen! 

I sat truly touched by this woman’s own hurting heart for the fact that she gives so much of her self to people and when it comes time to “do unto others” she is frustrated that it isn’t reciprocated, and at the same time, I sat in awe and my own understanding of my own life and struggles and what it means to be a leader and in ministry.

* * *

To take you “behind the scenes” my first inclination was to shut her down with a spirit that felt religious in nature to me thinking “we just don’t talk about stuff like that, don’t be negative, etc.”  Except, she wasn’t….she was just being open and vulnerable and sharing in trust with me.  I am glad I didn’t miss it….I kept quiet and listened.

Furthermore “behind the scenes”, you see, earlier in the week, up until that hour actually, I had been in my own space of frustration.  Sometimes, being called to be in ministry isn’t about anything other than what you know (the Word) and not anything about how your feel (they didn’t get it, they don’t show up, they don’t participate, I feel rejected….insert any of the foregoing phrases I have used lately in my own conversations with those few I get to sometimes share with myself).

Fast forward a bit to an hour before the group, the Holy Spirit sent a prayer warrior to pray for my group and to pray with me, (thank you, Jesus, for Your unfailing love and for always showing up to take care of your sheep, despite the “space” of the leader in that moment!)  As we ended our prayer of agreement, I grabbed hold of the promise of His appearance, and walked obediently forward.  Not because I “felt” like it, but because the Word says if I ask, and I believe I have it , I have it.  This means I felt no different than I did before the prayer, but was walking out in complete faith!  Can anyone else say “amen” with me to that or am I all alone?

OK, one more aside - As a leader I am focused on facilitating and allowing the Holy Spirit to lead in my group.  I ache at times to be used by the Lord, as a conduit to connect people to Him.  In fact, I pretty much am praying daily “more of You Lord, and less of me….use me, Father….let me be Your hands and feet”. 

* * *

So, back to the group now that I have set the stage and filled you in on the behind the scenes aspect of all that is happening.  Here sits this woman, such a beautiful woman of the Lord, and her life such an amazing testimony of faith and courage and she is sharing her heart with me.  She is vulnerable, she is trusting me, and I am listening….

At first I am listening through my filter of my own experience and feelings.  Hey I feel frustrated, too, right?  The conversation started with “where is everyone tonight?”, and I realized in the moment, that I was thinking that, too, and had personal feelings about my own worth wrapped up in that question….but the Spirit spoke and said “listen”.  And so, I continued to listen. 

Through the conversation as we peeled away the layers (like an onion if you will), I finally saw it in the Spirit with the eyes and ears God has…..her hurting heart, the feelings of inadequacy, the unfairness of it all, and mostly her dilemma of loneliness right now and struggling to let go of the old and grab a hold of the new!  On top of that I know this woman.  I know how she has continued to trust the Lord for in her journey and how incredible she is; how she truly hears God and obeys.  She has a child-like faith that is so appealing and so worth emulating and modeling our own lives after.  Sometimes, she literally goes to the end of the camp DAILY for her manna, in absolute and complete faith without extra money or safety net and the Lord always provides……….she is so much more “out of the boat” with Jesus.  In fact, as she stands on the waves on top of the water with Jesus, I am quite sure she could look me in the eye and say “boat?  what boat?  there was a boat?”

As I listened, not rebuking her, not through the filter of my own feelings, or making it about me in any way, just listening, I was humbled…because had almost missed it because of my own “stuff”.  It was a close call, too.  The conversation could have shifted to an entirely different place about who was or wasn’t this or that, and why aren’t they this or that……….but instead, it became about the Lord, and His promises, and His Word, and I watched the Spirit apply the salve of His grace to her wounds, and I watched the Word grow and swell up in her, almost like a time lapse of a seed sprouting and growing and blooming, right before my eyes in the Spirit.

I am calling that one a win for the Father.  And somewhere in there for me, too because I learned, to listen, to be a conduit for God, and let Him fix it, and let God give the increase  (1 Corinthians 3:7)

Reminds me of a metaphor the Lord showed me years ago now about a simple garden hose.  The water only flows out of that hose with force when there are no kinks in it.  I am just a hose and He is the healing water of life.  I only have to work on keeping the kinks out.  (Of course, this goes for every believer, not just those called to minister.)

I also learned a valuable thing; something I learn over and over again by experience.  If you are prayed up, and in the Word, and open to hear Him, He will use you.  If you use Him like drive-thru and fast food service, you run a risk of missing it.  I fail more than I win I fear but I am determined to be obedient, for Jesus says to me (and everyone):  “why do you call me Lord and not do what I tell you?” (Luke 6:46).

Yep, we have a winner!