a samaritan woman

i am a samaritan woman. do you have any idea what that means?

being from samaria is bad, at least according to jewish people. they won’t deal with us. period. we are a hated race.

but being a woman is even worse. our own men won’t even talk to us, at least not publicly.

so i’m a woman – an outcast to men, and a samaritan – an outcast to jews. you’d think i couldn’t sink any lower. but i did. i became an outcast to women, too.

i just wanted to be loved. i wanted to matter. i had no station in life, that was clear very early on, and so what else could i have? i just.. i wanted to be loved.

i went through five husbands trying to find love. and i was with yet another man.

the women in town talked about me, i knew that. and i hated it. but this thirst inside of me was bigger than they were. i let it drag me away from everyone except for whatever man i thought would love me.

i was so lonely but being out in public was.. hard. i didn’t like imagining what was being said about me. i was empty.

until i met him.

i would wait till noon to go out for water, knowing full well everyone had already come and gone, just so i wouldn’t have to see anyone else. and so they wouldn’t see me. wouldn’t talk about me. i wouldn’t have to be reminded that i was a disgrace.

i didn’t expect to find anyone there so you can imagine my surprise when i saw a man – a jewish man – sitting at a samaritan well. and he spoke to me.

he wanted me to get him some water. who was this man?

i even pointed out to him – you know, i’m a samaritan woman. it didn’t faze him. instead he tells me about some living water. water that he can provide even though it is clear he has no jug with which to draw anything.

he says the water he is offering is the kind that will quench once for all. i would never be thirsty again.

and then he did the most surprising thing. he told me everything i had ever done. he knew my life, he knew my failures, my junk. he knew everything! and he still offered me this “living water.”

do you have any idea how good that sounded? he wasn’t talking about water anymore. he was talking about that.. that thirst i had carried around with me my whole life. the one i called ‘needing to be loved’. he was offering to satisfy that. but this was love with a capital “L”. he was offering God’s love. the kind that lasts forever.

i wanted it!

i had heard that a man who was God would come.. and that he would know all things.. this had to be him. he told me everything i had ever done! this was HIM!! this man was God. and He wanted to love me.

oh, yes, i definitely wanted that.

i felt like i had just drank the clearest, purest, most quenching water. i was.. i wasn’t thirsty. i wasn’t desperate to be loved. i was.. he loved me.

every bad decision, every ruined relationship i have ever had, i left behind me and i ran into town and told everyone – i told those men, those people, that would have nothing to do with me. i could hardly get the words out fast enough. but i had to tell anyone who would listen!!

they must have seen it all over me – i must have looked as changed as i felt because not only did they listen to me, but they believed! they listened to me! they believed me!

i had been tormented with a thirst i couldn’t understand and i couldn’t satisfy. but this man gave me what no other man could: love. real love. eternally quenching love.

God’s love.

and it fills me to overflowing. and instead of hiding away and avoiding people like i had for so long, i run to them and tell them they can have it, too. i have set everything i used to be aside and have put him first, to share with others about him, to know him, to love him.

i am no longer an outcast. i am no longer a disgrace. i am loved. i am accepted. my thirst is satisfied.

i am a samaritan woman
and i am second