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Oh, you are one of THOSE… she thinks, scraping the garbage heap of her memories… Overpromise, underdeliver. I know your type, the smooth-talkers good
with cheap words that flow freely...
Words are cheap. The truth,
however, has a price tag, she discovered. A price tag, that few… so very few seem
willing to pay.
Sir, she looks at
Jesus…. The tired, the thirsty, the empty-handed Jesus who just minutes ago
asked her for a cup of cold water. There is something different about this man, but she can't quite put her finger on it.
Sir, she wants to say, You are out of Your mind. You have no idea
what You are talking about. For, this soul thirst… this unquenchable dehydration
of the heart is… she scrambles for words to capture the impossible
predicament of the human heart, and decides it’s hopeless. So, she addresses Him
like she would a mentally disabled child. It may sound condescending, but
clearly He needs to be reminded of the simple facts of the present grim reality.
Sir, You have nothing to draw with…
You are empty-handed. You don’t
even have a beat-up, dinged bucket in Your hand.
… and the well is deep.
This well, sir, is deep. Deeper than…
… the loneliness of a foreigner
far away from home…
…. the dejection of an unloved
woman while her husband is in another's arms…
… the fear of a child lost in the
dark of the splintered lives of adults…
… the powerlessness of a man to
make good on his promise…
... the despair of the beloved comedian who couldn't find a drop of water anywhere to quench his thirst in all his success, in all his friends, and family, and fans, in all his accomplishments, in all his wealth... in all the gifts that this world can offer... including his own gift of bringing happiness... and laughter...to the world?,
Do You have a bucket for THAT well Sir?
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