Women - well - can you hear?

 

I’m hot! I’m thirsty, no amount of water seems to cool me down at the moment, with an endless thirst. The ice melting in my water before I even put it to my lips, with my feet in a permanent state of swollen I stare at them while dwelling on the story of the woman at the well. 

The church bells ring out indicating its noon, same time Jesus would had meet the lady at the well, no doubt he was tired and worn out. He initiated a spiritual conversation, and she brought it back to earthly things. So Jesus said, “You want to talk about earthly things? Let’s talk about earthly things. Let’s talk about your life.” ….. and the story goes on….. 

Downstairs in the sitting room is a rather large, or if I’m honest its extra large image of the last supper. A colourful print full displaying the happenings of the final meal with Jesus. The other day I sat looking at this image realising while it had twelve disciples I could not by past that in this count were two women! 

This reminded me that been a women is a very powerful thing! It is an echo of God’s heart and a display of His fullness. He spoke this world into being - let there be light - but when He made women, it was intimate and personal. 

IMAGINE THE SCENE ....

Adam drifting off to sleep in the sunlight, the whisper of God’s footsteps on the grass, the bend of His knees as He reaches down. He touches Adam’s side, the place closest to his heart, and takes hold of a rib. Perhaps the animals gather to watch. A hedgehog with sharp quills who’s trying not to be socially awkward sits next to a chubby panda having another afternoon snack, while a squirrel deliriously runs circles around them all. 

Then a hush comes, the atmosphere builds full of tension and anticipation as the Artist begins to work. He stretches the rib out long and adds curves and flesh and eyelashes. Yes, a freckle just above her lip, a wrinkle above her brows; a softness in the palm of her hands and a strength between her shoulder blades. 

The Artist smiles with joyful delight. 

Soon all that beauty will be marred with sin like spitballs on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. Making it sound like a tale of the artist put a curse on her. He will not give up on her! And later a Prince will set her free. But even after that the woman circles the borders of Eden, never completely reclaiming the truth. She forgets her story! The people around her tell her different versions. The world is a web of deception and she is the butterfly with paper wings struggling in the corner. 

She does not see how lovely she is. She becomes untethered from the fierceness inside her. She tries on shoes like Cinderella in yoga pants and eats leftover cookies alone in the middle of the night. Watches “reality” programs like they are a sociological experiment. Sometimes joining the race, on every committee and saying yes to every suggestion left growing dim in the flicker of the television light. 

And all the while, the One who made her is calling her back, still walking in the garden of her heart in the cool of day and saying “I am with you.” He offers what she longs for most - for Him to tell her who she really is, to whisper in her ear that He has made her funny, wise, strong and brave. That she is tender and resilient and complex and wonder-filled. She is mystery and unveiling.

She is not an afterthought; she has been an essential part of the plan all along. 

Somewhere a snake hisses and a Savior on a cross declares, “It is finished.”
The curtain splits and the curse breaks and the promise of Eden comes back to us. All the sisters and the daughters and the mamas say, “Amen.” 

Redemption joyfully roars back, “You are a woman” It echoes through the ages. 

When I listen closely, I can hear it still. Can you?

A few of us with the choir master, (left front) and choir members about to share a meal together.