The Woman At the Well And Me

So often, I am like the woman at the well—undeserving to stand in the presence of Jesus, continuously falling only to get up and fall again, and constantly seeking perfectionism when my imperfections run deep.

In my flesh, I forget that He is good. I forget that there has not been one instance in which He has not been faithful to me. I forget that His words are true. I forget that the blood-stained, broken body of Christ would not have laid decaying in a grave for three days if He did not faithfully love me. I forget that when He says that His ways are higher, He means it with every fiber of His being.

In my flesh, my flesh that wages war with my spirit, I forget these very things. 

And so here I stand bowing my head as the Savior stands before me with eyes that echo love and grace, and yet I don’t dare look into those eyes with fear that once He glimpses into my eyes, He will walk away due to my doubting of His goodness. Oh, but here the Savior stands lifting my chin with His hand and gazing into these broken eyes, and He isn’t walking away.

Just like the woman at the well, Jesus is looking beyond my imperfection and endless doubts and sees the worthiness of my heart—the worthiness in which He died for, the worthiness in which He bled for, and the worthiness that He went to hell and back for. That is what He sees as he stands before me; a girl who He loves, a girl who He ransomed, and a girl who He thinks good thoughts towards.

The beautiful thing about God is that His concern is not for my imperfections, past failures, and endless doubts, for He knows that His goodness and mercy are more than enough for a heart such as this. Rather, His concern is about taking this heart and making it well-watered so that when I look at others, they see His loving gaze through me and throughout me.

Though this heart of mine becomes weary, the faithfulness of God will forever remain firm and steadfast. Even in the moments I find myself forgetting who He is, even in the moments I find myself overwhelmed, even in the moments I find myself lacking understanding, He will never walk away, but rather will walk with me instead.

In the end, He knows that what He has to offer this heart of mine is far greater. Because my weaknesses, imperfections, and lack of understanding only further reveal the goodness of the King and the beautiful freedom found on the cross—the cross that crucified the Savior who, just like the woman at the well, stopped for a girl like me.

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