(A Contemporary take on the story of The Woman at The Well – St. John 4)
Cursed because of her race no one could understand her shame. She holds it inside as a well-kept secret. The elite refer to her as the scum of the earth and turn their backs in disgust and cover their faces whenever she walks by. Hated because of her pedigree, it’s hard to describe the pain she feels. It cuts deep; through flesh and bone, digging in until it resonates along the hallways of her soul.
She is quite beautiful, a sight to behold. Intoxicating eyes peering out from under a furrowed brow looks away in embarrassment whenever the elite were near. They say our eyes are the windows to our souls and if she allows you to look in hers long enough you will be wading into twin pools of tenderness that masks a museum of broken dreams. Her face is darkened by the sun because everyday she is up at the crack of dawn and works tirelessly all day until the sun goes down.
Hands that long to be adorned in exquisite jewellery looks weathered from carrying heavy loads, and her feet are encrusted from walking back and forth to work every day to make a living. Stigmatized, this is a great burden for her kind to bear; It says she is a working woman with no husband. Rejected because of her race, and unmarried at her age automatically earns her a spot at the top of the bottom of the social ladder.
Today, she looks at her reflection in a pool of water and wishes her life was different, but what could she do to change it? She has looked for love in all the wrong places – trying lover after lover after lover and the one she has now is married to someone else.
Surely there has to be more to life than this! As she thought about her life situation depression sets in and sighing heavily, she resigns herself to her circumstances.
Engrossed in her thoughts she did not see Him until He spoke. He was handsome in an ordinary sort of way and had a kind and unassuming, but authoritative voice, and those eyes…they made her nervous. She felt like they were piercing her soul and looking at the pictures of her life hanging on the walls of remembrance. She fidgeted uncomfortably but responded to Him with fortitude while wondering what a man of high social standing is doing talking to her. What was He doing on her side of town?
She soon realized that He is exactly what she needed. No…not in that way! Although she did flirt with him a little. He was the real deal! He understood her; read her like a book even, but despite the fact that He was upper class, He never looked down his nose at her. It was quite the opposite. He made her feel like she was the only woman alive at that moment. He made her feel valuable, like her life could have meaning and as He spoke to her, her confidence began to grow. She asked herself, “Who is this man that can make me feel this good? Who could give my life such meaning?”
It was a chance encounter but it was enough to change her forever. No ordinary man could do that! He didn’t even ask for her number! He simply spoke into her life and empowered her. This was enough to get her talking to her neighbours about this Man she met. The Man who seemed to know everything about everything. The Man with the words that could raise even the dead – He revived her dead soul didn’t He? And then He gave her a purpose. He changed her life; she was no more a woman scorned. That day she became the blessed of the Lord.