A Long Cool Drink

The gentle rain. It’s steadily coming down as I sit under cover listening to the calm. Refreshing, rejuvenating rain patting the pavement with circles.

Sometimes my heart feels like the parched ground in desperate need of a long cool drink. Today I take a long draw of that life giving water. “Come to me who are thirsty, and I will give you a drink.  Come to the table those who are hungry, and I will fill your mouth with good things.” To the Samaritan woman at the well… “If you had a drink from the water I would give you you wouldn’t thirst again. It would bubble up in you into eternal life.” Now we are talking.

Rape. To be stripped of one’s dignity, respect, sexuality, honor, purity, virginity by the selfish lust of another. For one’s soul to be crushed, especially the younger this happens to. To call it by another name, makes it more acceptable, not as hard to say. But for those who have been stripped and humiliated by it, it feels like a whitewashed wall, like you are trying to hide what it really is. One in three women have been touched by it. I was one of those.

Though I understand the pain, I also have met the healer. I remember the trauma of it, but I no longer feel it’s pain as I once did, because I have let His love into those painful places. His love never rapes. It’s taken me a long time to believe that. Trusting Father God not to give me a stone, when I ask for bread has been extremely hard at times. But I am learning He truly is good. He truly does love us. And He truly understands our pain. He takes away the shame of our youth. He heals the broken hearted. He never wanted those things to happen to us, but sometimes He chooses to suffer with us through it, rather than take us out. Free will is a concept I still wrestle with God on. But I know He promises to make it all right in the end. And as hard as it is at times, I can trust Him.

Dry, stripped ground, desperate for a drink of life giving water. Wells gone dry. And He shows up at our well. And says give me a drink. We know full well we have nothing to offer Him. Our own well water has been polluted, violated by the enemy, poisoned by our own self hatred or unforgivingness, by the sin of others and ourselves. I hear His voice tenderly whisper, “Here. Let me help you.” He knows our condition, and He still offers Himself, the living water. Can you see yourself taking a drink of it? Maybe a sip at first on dry parched lips. The living water He gives begins to seep into our souls deep down into the ground filling the well inside of us with a bubbling brook. No longer just a well, but a river of life.

The quiet sound of the rain… Gently loosing the ground so that His love can seep in. Let His love seep in.

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