Rejection to Restoration

The screeching, raspy morning call of the old cockerel woke me from my sweet sleep.

I stretched with my eyes still closed.

I reached out my arm beside me, hoping to feel the warmth of my man beside me.

The bed sheets were cold.

He had already gone.

I had known he wouldn’t have been by my side. He had gone back to his family.

It hurt to share him.

I slowly got out of bed and poured water into a bowl to wash myself.

Annoyingly, I noticed there was only enough water left for a wash and my next meal.

That would mean I needed to take a trip to the well.

I pushed that disturbing thought aside, put on my cleanest dress, and started rolling out some bread for breakfast.

I then recited the prayer that I had learnt on my mother’s knee.

Praise to You, our Elohim, the Living One.

You have rescued our Forefathers with Your great might.

Praise to You, the Only One; You are the Ruler of all rulers.

Tears came to my eyes.

A loneliness crept over me.

I couldn’t finish my prayer.

I missed praying with my family.

The gentle knock on my door stirred me from my gloomy thoughts.

No one came to my door during the day.

I slowly opened the door, fearing who would be behind it.

There stood my beautiful little sister.

“ Miriam”, what are you doing here?

I quickly pulled her inside and slammed the door shut. I turned and enveloped her in my arms.

We stood entwined for a while.

It had been so long since my own flesh and blood had held me.

My parents had disowned me after the second divorce.

Miriam’s muffled voice spoke from my embrace.

“ I snuck out after my chores; Mama doesn’t know I am here. She thinks I have gone to the market for vegetables”

I laughed, then was concerned!

“ Oh, Miriam, I don’t want you to get into trouble, but oh, how I have missed you”

Miriam’s voice and presence were a balm to my fractured soul.

She shared all the family news; her storytelling was full of exaggerated mishaps, and I laughed for the first time in months.

When her beautiful ramblings paused, I jumped up and pulled her to her feet.

“ Let’s go to the market together?”

A shadow of doubt passed across her face.

My heart sank. I knew she couldn’t be seen with me, as she too would be shunned.

I slumped down and nodded

“I know what you are thinking; I shouldn’t have suggested it”

We sat holding hands. Then she got up to leave.

After she had left, the house felt so empty.

I wrapped a shawl around me, picked up my basket and boldly walked out of the house, heading for the market.

The market was bustling with so many people.

I went to new sellers. So I wouldn’t get the usual disdain.

I bought figs, cheese and vegetables.

I noticed the women staring at me. I heard them whispering. One woman, much louder than the other, said, “ Harlot”

I felt myself blush.

I wrapped my shawl over my head, covering my hot cheeks, and rushed back to the safety of my home.

I threw off my shawl and dropped my bag of supplies.

I flopped on the bed and began to weep.

I must have cried myself to sleep, and I woke up disoriented.

I slowly got out of bed, knowing I couldn’t put off going to the well any longer.

I took my clay jar, placed it on my head, and walked the longer route to the well, missing the marketplace.

It was a mile-long walk, and it was the hottest part of the day.

I chose to go then so I could avoid the judgmental stares of the other women.

I arrived at the well and noticed a man sitting with his back against the well wall.

I avoided him by going to the opposite side.

As I lowered the rope and bucket, the man spoke.

“ Will you give me a drink”

I looked up; his piercing brown eyes looked at me so kindly.

I realised he was a Jew.

I gave him the benefit of the doubt

Maybe he hadn’t noticed that I was a Samaritan.

I answered in a gentle way

“You are a Jew; I am a Samaritan.

How can you ask me for a drink?”

“ You are not even supposed to be talking to me”

Then he spoke again

“If you knew the gift of God and who it is that asks you for a drink, you would have asked him, and he would have given you living water.”

This man had me baffled.

“ How can you give me drink you have no bucket to draw water with?”

“ Where can you get living water from?”

Oh, how I longed never to have to come to this well again. I would never have to be scorned by others.

I asked the man to give me a drink of this living water.

He spoke again

“ Go call your husband”

He said this is such a kind way but it still shook me.

I leant against the stone well and whispered my reply

“ I have no husband “

He spoke softly again, “You are right when you say you have no husband. The fact is, you have had five husbands, and the man you now have is not your husband.”

I was shocked that he had known my past. I replied

“Sir, I can see that you are a prophet. Our ancestors worshipped on this mountain, but you Jews claim that the place where we must worship is in Jerusalem.”

“Woman,” the man replied, “believe me, a time is coming when you will worship the Father neither on this mountain nor in Jerusalem.

 You Samaritans worship what you do not know; we worship what we do know, for salvation is from the Jews. Yet a time is coming and has now come when the true worshipers will worship the Father in the Spirit and in truth, for they are the kind of worshipers the Father seeks. God is spirit, and his worshipers must worship in the Spirit and in truth.”

This man spoke with such authority but also humility. I spoke now a little louder.

“I know that the Messiah” (called Christ) is coming. When he comes, he will explain everything to us.”

Then this man, whom I now know to be called Jesus, declared,

“I, the one speaking to you—I am he.”

Hope flooded my very being.

This man standing before me, breaking the law to share such beautiful news with me, was the Messiah everyone was waiting for.

I asked him to stay there.

I left my clay jar and ran as fast as I could back to my village.

I arrived hot and exhausted.

I found my voice and shouted as loud as I could

“ Come see a man that told me everything I ever did”

“ He is the Messiah”

I don’t know why I was so surprised, but they came back with me, and Jesus talked with them, and they started to believe too.

Over the next couple of days, many of the villagers started to believe in Jesus.

I no longer have to dread going to the well.

The Messiah changed the atmosphere of the whole village that day.

The women include me and love on me when I go to the market.

My life has been restored.

My family and I are working through restoration.

I no longer look for love in the wrong places.

Jesus has filled me with his love.