waiting by the well

We were getting ready for bed. It was already a bit later than our normal bedtime and both of us needed to get up very early the next morning. Going into the bathroom faucet, I couldn’t wait to run the water, brush my teeth and wash my face. The next step was bed, where I would allow my head to hit the pillow: I could barely wait. As I turned the tap, instead of the normal rush of cool, refreshing water, I encountered sputtering and spitting. No water. None. I grabbed my husband, and we went down stairs and stared at the water tank.

It might be helpful to know we live in the country, so our water comes directly from a deep well, via a pump. The benefits are, we have no monthly water bill, and we can use as much as we want, whenever we want. Water bans have no impact on our gardens. The challenge can be, if the water is not running, then there is no “city office” to call for a fix. We call the well man, who comes out, fixes the problem and hands us a nice, fat bill for his service.

Back to the story…we stood staring at the well tank. Then we looked at each other, back at the tank, and both stated something like, “dang.” After we realized that staring at each other, or the tank, while entertaining, was not helpful to the situation. Gary went out to the shed to gather supplies, and I headed to the gas station to buy out their supply on water, after all, we all had to shower the next day. When I returned, Gary was at work on the tank. We were both hoping it simply needed more air pressure, but knew it was something more challenging.

Stress has already been knocking on our door of our present lives. So, neither of us needed, or desired an addition of any more. I didn’t sleep well, and ended up getting up even earlier than needed. So, after having gone to bed after midnight, tossing and turning for a few hours, about 3:45 am my feet landed on the floor, and I padded out to the front room. When I came to the living room, the words that came to mind where, “The house feels dead, without life.”

It felt as if the fact we didn’t have water, somehow equated to not having life within the walls of the house. We can not cook, care for ourselves, get rid of our waste, clean the house, and many more things. Water is vital to our life. Life can not continue without water. It is amazing how often, when you do not have water, you still walk to the faucet, turn the knob and expect something to come out. Water gives us life in ways that we do not even realize.

I recently studied a story in the Gospel of John, in the (Christian) scriptures. The story was of a man asked a woman for water. He continued saying while she understood water coming from a well, he had the ability to offer “living water.” He wasn’t only saying that living water was good, but that he was it! He was (and is) the living water, of which she could drink and never thirst against. It isn’t physical water to which he referred, he spoke of a water that quenched the thirst of her soul. If you are unfamiliar with the story, this man was Christ, the Son of God, who had come to earth in human form to restore his creation to himself.

Thinking about this story, and experiencing the lack of physical water invited me to look at Christ’s words differently. 1) I wonder if at times I forget what it means to have the living water flow through my life: just as I can take for granted the water coming out of the faucet. 2) I realize it is always there, and that I have access to it. 3) I think about what it might be like to not have it in my life. 4) I ponder the number of folks who do not realize that there is living water to which they too, can have access, so that their soul would no longer thirst. My house may feel dead without the water flowing, however I know that for me, this is a temporary problem. However, to have a dry, thirsty soul, that lacks living water is tragic, especially when the flow is available.

We called the well man, who came out, and fixed our problem. We now have fresh, cold, water running through the veins of the house, spilling out at whatever tap we chose to use. And, the big, fat bill wasn’t as big and fat, as we had feared. So, all is “well.” However, in the meanwhile, this process has gotten me to remember to be intentional about watching the living water move within me, and enjoying the mystery of how it works.

a grey lesson

Last night I watched a re-run of Grey's Anatomy. I hadn't watched the season the first time through, so it was new for me. The episode told the story of a small girl who had shot her father 17 times. He survived. Both she and her mother had experienced abuse at the hands of this man. The small girl, wanting to protect her mom, shot the dad. A tragic story, to say the least.

At first Dr. Meredith Grey listened to the story, as well as the excuses the mother gave for her husband's actions. As the show progresses, it appears obvious the mother and daughter will go back to the husband/father, and things will continue as they had. At this realization, Meredith blows a cork. In her angry and reactivity, her words re-traumatize the woman. She is banned for further contact with the two.

Dr. Grey takes the opportunity to reflect on her reaction. She has been told to stay away from the woman and daughter, with the threat of losing her internship if she does not follow this order. Eventually she realizes that she must make it right with the woman and stand up for the daughter. She does so, putting her career on the line. As the husband comes out of surgery, she steps forward to speak to the woman.

"I'm sorry for the way I spoke to you earlier. I know I was out of line, and I know I can't possibly imagine what you've been through. But I also know this can not be your daughter's story~that she shot her dad 17 times to protect her mom and you went back to him. You have to change her story while you still have a chance, for both of you. For her, for your little girl. You have to change her story."

Dr. Meredith Grey encouraged the mom to change the impending story of the little girl.

Brain science tells us that we are shaped by 1) our DNA, and 2) our relationships. If this is true, here we find an invitation to consider the power we hold in the stories of others as well as the power others have to form our stories. The story of our life, of our experiences is reflected in the manner in which we live our lives.

We can all testify to the power of words, especially words in intimate relationships. Most of us can recount an incident where someone said something, either positive or negative, to us and can also recount the impact that it made on our lives. The question that compels me at this point is, how do my actions and words influence the future stories of those who are around me? Do they offer love and life? Do they move the person's story toward grace? Or, do I offer words and actions what while they make me feel good, or vindicated, etc, offer pain or wounds to the other? This is more than "simply" watching my words or my actions. This is being intentional about how I impact the story of another. There is power in caring for "one another." We can change the stories of others, by our actions and by our words.

Dr. Meredith Grey asked the woman to consider changing the story of her daughter. This is obvious from her words. However, Meredith also changed her own story by reflecting on her initial words and addressing the woman a second time. She also changed the woman's story by compelling her to change the story of the daughter. Meredith's story was wrapped up in the woman's story, which was wrapped up in the story of her daughter. The South African's have a word for this: 'ubuntu.' It is the concept of our stories being wrapped up in the stories of others.

Whether we get our life lessons through a fictional TV character, the research of Interpersonal Neurobiologists, or a cultural aspect of South Africa, we can see a familiar thread of the important of caring for one another. Is it any wonder that we are told to "love one another?"

Excellent words Sen. Kennedy

".. we must respect the motives of those who exercise their right to disagree. We sorely test our ability to live together if we too readily question each other's integrity. It may be harder to restrain our feelings when moral issues are at stake - for they go to the deepest wellsprings of our being. But the more our feelings diverge, the more deeply held they are, the greater is our obligation to grant the sincerity and basic moral decency of our fellow citizens on the other side." Ted Kennedy, speaking at Liberty Baptist University (1983)

the impact of loving well

Today I will go to a funeral. I suspect that it will be more of a celebration, at least in the minds of many of the attenders. The gentleman who passed, was exactly that - a gentle man. I did not know him well nor long. But what I have experienced of who he is, and was, has been more in experiencing his impact on his family. This man was well loved. And, this man sure seemed to love well. The impact of this gentle man's life is evident in his family. His family loves well.

A good friend of mine has been blessed to marry into this family. Her husband, (son of the gentleman who passed) loves my friend well. Which, in turn makes my friend insanely happy. Which, in turn makes my husband and I (along with mobs of our friends) thrilled. We love that our friend is insanely happy. We love the way that her husband loves her well. (Which in turn invites us to totally love her husband.) My bet is that he learned that from his mom, his dad and his relationship with his creator.

So, the impact of one man loving his family well, has expanded to his children, to their spouses, and to their friends. That is only one spoke of the wheel. Imagine how many other people have been impacted by one man (or woman) loving well.

Oh that I would learn to love well....and long.