Thank you, Lord, for:
Visiting Gabe and Owen!💜💜
Parker cleaned and organized the side of the house! Looks awesome!
Baby shower for April!
Visiting with Gale, Linda and Cynthia at Open House.
Whitty making honey popcorn! Mmmmmm!😋
Hanging out with Park and Whitt
Fix it, Lord—quickly. Take away the uncomfortable, and give me what I want.
We want it now. We are greedy for relief.
But Jesus is a slow and patient man, just as he is a slow and patient God. He is a God who chooses transformation over quick fixes and full freedom over halfhearted embraces. So he invites this woman into an intimacy that pierces as it purges. He points out the places inside her that will keep her always thirsty, no matter how much water he pours into her. Life cannot spring from death, and our Jesus cares about our slowly dying souls more than he cares about our public appearance. He wants to heal us not only from the outside shame that keeps us baking in the public glare, but from the deep, personal shame that keeps us gingerly sidestepping our real wounds while we wither within.
So he stares down her insistence with love. And he opens the bandages she wears over her sin and shame and looks closely at the wounds. She is revealed—uncomfortably, intimately seen by this man she never meant to meet. “Go, call your husband” is the command with which he rebuts her insistence.
Oh, haven’t we been there? We too have wanted God to do something for us, anything to take away the pain and fix our mess, to be saved and done, when suddenly he stares down the real need and draws it into the light. I wonder how long it took her to respond, to gather herself from the gut punch of his words and the realization that the conversation wasn’t going her way. I wonder how deep the sigh was, and if it felt more like a groan when she finally figured that it was worth telling him the truth.
“I have no husband,” she clips out. It is a curt answer given to protect herself from the probing, to keep her shame hidden and her wounds bandaged even as they wept and begged for healing.
Jesus is not convinced or put off by easy, first answers, by our cues to go no further. He wants to get to the deepest parts of us. Just as this woman thirsts so desperately that she insists on her relief through living water, he is so thirsty for our freedom that he insists on the whole freeing truth. He is not content to fill us and leave us, slaked but sinful, bandaged but in bondage to shame. So he probes right into the heart of the deepest, darkest places of our souls, and he loves them right into the light. “You are right in saying, ‘I have no husband’; for you have had five husbands, and the one you have now is not your husband. What you have said is true!” Jesus indicates with knowing patience that what she has said is true, but not the whole truth.
He stands right here in front of you with the same knowing insistence. He longs for your healing, your freedom, but he will not give you only half of what you need. He will not treat just the thirsty symptoms of your sin and leave you to walk in shame. He has fixed his gaze on your heart, and he sees the deepest parts of you that need him. Tell him the truth, the whole truth. Let him see all of you, even the parts that have not seen the light for so long, the parts that you shroud and shelter in secret. He thirsts for you like you thirst for him. There is freedom waiting for you. You do not have to come to this place again. But he can’t heal what you won’t let him touch....
The moment is coming when they (sin and shame) will be remedied all together, when the water will flow that never stops giving us life. And the source of that water is the Spirit and the truth that set us free from sin and shame.
And he is crossing all the boundaries of this day and age too, to draw near to you and me and offer us the same relief: Spirit and truth. When we tell the truth about who we are and who we have been, the Spirit can move in us. The confession of our sin makes space for freedom.”
“Who Does He Say You Are? “ by Colleen C Mitchell