Apples of Gold

I do not like having my picture taken. Somewhere along the road I lost my photogenic flair. I may be a tad hyper-critical of my pictures. Chances are you are too. I see every wrinkle, the squinty eyes, and awkward smile and shrink back in horror and despair. Ok, that might be just a slight exaggeration, but you know what I mean. My kids, husband, friends and family can compliment me endlessly and I wonder if they were looking at a completely different picture.

Cringing isn’t reserved for disappointing pictures. It often carries into other aspects of our lives. We tend to magnify our missteps. Sometimes things that completely evade the attention of others, or at most are inconsequential enough to be almost immediately forgotten, replay in our minds like an old record album that is damaged, causing an endless repetition of an increasingly annoying phrase. With each replay we flinch a bit more, until we are convinced that our action has ruined all hope for a bright future. I’m quite certain I am not alone in this!

Confidence is a tenuous thing. We want enough, but not too much! It is delicate and fragile. It can be shattered with a sidewards glance, a harsh word, or even a reticent response to our brilliant suggestion. Confidence can flee when we face the unknown, or even the undesired known. Assumptions made about what others are thinking about us can shake our confidence as well.

I’m pretty sure the Samaritan woman would concur:

…He (Jesus) left Judea and returned to Galilee. He had to go through Samaria on the way. Eventually he came to the Samaritan village of Sychar, near the field that Jacob gave to his son Joseph. Jacob’s well was there; and Jesus, tired from the long walk, sat wearily beside the well about noontime. Soon a Samaritan woman came to draw water, and Jesus said to her, Please give me a drink. He was alone at the time because his disciples had gone into the village to buy some food. The woman was surprised, for Jews refuse to have anything to do with Samaritans. She said to Jesus, You are a Jew, and I am a Samaritan woman. Why are you asking me for a drink? Jesus replied, If you only knew the gift God has for you and who you are speaking to, you would ask me, and I would give you living water. John 4:3-10

I grew up raking blueberries on my grandfather’s crew. Each morning a gear grinding, rattling, bumpy old truck took us up a mountain to a very wet, rather cold field. Our shoes would squelch with each uncomfortable step. As the sun rose higher and hotter our feet would dry, and the cool air was driven off and replaced with an almost unbearable heat that caused even the hardest worker to at least consider lazing in the shadow of the truck, just for a minute or two.

Imagine the arid climate of the Middle East. This encounter took place at about noon, likely the hottest time of day. The cool of the morning or evening were the usual times to draw water. There is a pretty good chance that this woman had carefully chosen a time to come to the well when as few people as possible would see her. Her reputation was less than stellar, having been married 5 times and currently living with her boyfriend. With each failed marriage her confidence likely withered a bit more as she wondered why she was unable to have a successful marriage.

She wasn’t expecting to see anyone as she headed toward the well. I wonder if she considered pivoting and heading home without the desperately needed water. She was not the only one who had carefully chosen this time. It is not a coincidence that Jesus was there waiting for her.

It was unusual or more precisely unheard of for a Jewish man to talk to a Samaritan woman, and yet here he was, offering her acceptance, forgiveness, and eternal life.

If you only knew the gift God has for you and who you are talking to, you would ask me and I would give you living water. John 4:10

There are times that we feel just as unqualified to approach Jesus as this woman did. It is as if we find ourselves staring at one of those horrendous photographs, embarrassed by how we see ourselves. We are bombarded with every fear and doubt we have ever struggled with.

Jesus is waiting for us to approach him, not to point out our flaws, but so he can point us to him. Notice he didn’t even mention her poor credentials. He immediately switches the focus to himself. God speaks the same words to us. He wants us to know him and to realize God has a gift for us as well. We spend far too much time and energy trying to earn what we already have, the pleasure and favor of God.

Rather than acknowledging Jesus, and the gift he brought, the Samaritan woman responded with: But sir…vs 11. She then lists a bunch of reasons why he should NOT help her. How often do we do the same thing? I can’t, I didn’t, I don’t…. Jesus’ gentle reminder to turn our eyes to him, and to ask for a gift that we do not deserve stirs something deep in our soul.

So let us come boldly to the throne of our gracious God. There we will receive his mercy, and we will find grace to help us when we need it most. Hebrews 4:16