The Woman at the Well

She said close yours eyes. Imagine you are the woman at the well (John 4:4-26) and watch the story play out as if it is a movie in your head. You are the woman. Tell me how you interact with Jesus.

I sat with my eyes closed. I saw the dusty ground and the stone-stacked well. There is a bucket sitting on the edge of the well, and I am carrying a jug to fill. 

She asks me to describe what I see. What I am wearing. What I am feeling. I tell her that I am walking down the road from the town toward the well. I am alone, but I can hear the town noises behind me. As I come closer to the well, I see Jesus standing near the well. I do not know who he is, but I do not feel threatened by his presence.

I walk up to the well. I am standing holding my jug in front of me. Jesus walks up to the other side of the well and sits on edge. We begin to talk. He is kind and generous. I listen to every word he has to say. He assures me of my value and worth in his eyes. I believe his words and am comforted. 

When the time comes for us to part, it is not painful or difficult because I know we will meet again, often, to talk and share. Even when he is physically absent, I can find him through scripture and prayer.

She asks me to open my eyes. She tells me that it is a good thing that I am comfortable being that close to Him. Many cannot be in His presence. I am comforted and soothed by her words.

I leave to go and continue my exploration of my life with Jesus.


linking up with Just Write

Rage

Revelation 3:20 -- Look at me. I stand at the door. I knock. If you hear me call and open the door, I’ll come right in and sit down to supper with you.

Each of us has many rooms in our hearts. Jesus knocks on different doors at different times. This weekend I went on a directed retreat where I was invited to read Revelation 3:20 and then ask Jesus what door He wanted me to open to Him, and this is what happened.

In a room in my heart. Inside are all the monsters of my past. They are loose in there so I don't go in. I am a little girl trying desperately to keep the door closed so they don't get out and do more damage. That's the room Jesus wants to go into. I can't go in by myself, but I trust Him. I ask if He will go in with me. Will He hold my hand? He takes my hand as I open the door. He tells me to put them all in cages, and instantly they are.

There are snarling beasts with wild fur, giant claws, and gnashing teeth. Giant reptiles with slashing claws, and snakes that look harmless but are not. As we stand in front of each cage He asks me why I am angry at each one. As I describe the abuse and pain they have inflicted on me, He tells me He is angry with them as well. Angry that His creations can turn on one another this way. That they would turn on me -- His child -- to deliberately do me harm. As He says this each monster returns to its human form. 

Jesus tells me He always has and always will stand between me and them. In the same way He provided protection at the time of abuse by leading me to dissociate, He has continued to be my shield. They are not my concern. Their repentance and need for forgiveness are between Him and each of them. I have no responsibility toward any of them beyond wishing them no harm.

He tells me I can stop trying to get somewhere. I have done my part. It's okay to just be. To rest in Him. He will walk with me through that room any time, but it is up to me whether I go back in there again or not. My rage toward them is understandable and He feels it too.

Give the rage to Him. Quit using on myself. I am not culpable for their actions or how they made me feel. 

We walk out together, still holding hands and close the door. It latches smoothly. No more snarling beasts trying to escape. There is no judgment or disappointment from Jesus, only love and compassion. 

The question was asked, "What do you do with your rage?" I had tried to store it in that room with all the monsters. To ignore it, hoping it would dissipate on it's own. But rage and anger left to their own devices do not fade, but rather grow and infect all around them. Pushed deep inside I was the victim of my justifiable rage and anger toward those who harmed me.

Now I know the answer to the question, "What do you do with your rage?" I give it to Jesus because He understands it, so I don't have to carry it anymore.


linking up with Imperfect Prose and Just Write

Day 13 of 31

I keep thinking about Lisa-Jo saying write what you know.
But what I know isn't pretty.

What I know is that some people are monsters underneath it all.
Family doesn't always rush to support.
Just because the hurt was a long time ago, doesn't mean it isn't still scary and painful.

But then I stop and consider what else I know. 
I know that my husband will always support me come hell or high water.
I know that he loves me as unconditionally as a person is able.
I know that he believes me when I tell him about the horrors I endured.
I know that he feels my pain as well as he can.

I also know that I have a cadre of friends who support me and love me.
They love my husband and kids as well.
I know that people who know me well have a lot more faith in me than I have in myself.
I know that I trust them, so they must have some reason for that faith.

But the most important thing I know is

Jesus loves me, this I know

for the Bible tells me so.

Little ones to Him belong

They are weak, but He is strong.

and I knew that even when I was a little girl going through all the terrible things, because I'd been singing it all my life.

And that's what got me through it all.