This Is Your Story

I am the woman at the well. Jesus came and found me where I should not have been. Doing the things that left me empty and hollow inside, void of purpose and meaning. He found me there thirsty and desperate—crying out to be seen, celebrated, and loved, instead of trampled underfoot and forgotten. He found me there, lifted my chin, looked me in the eye, and offered me living water that I might never thirst again.

This is my story. This is your story. This is our story.

He leaves the ninety-nine behind and comes frantically searching for the one. Notice: he does not deem any distance too far, any terrain too treacherous, nor any situation too scandalous to come for you. You are his beloved, and he is yours. No height or depth can separate you from his love.

This may not feel like your story today. Instead, yours may feel more like having to go run your errands in the hottest part of the day so that you don’t run into all the people who hate you. It may feel like settling for less than you deserve because it’s all you can get. At this moment, it may look like being thrown away, forsaken by the people who swore they’d always be there. Today, you might just be thirsty. Desperate. Aching.

I have good news for you. Your story isn’t over yet. This is where it starts to get good. This is where the Bridegroom chooses his bride: You. HE STILL CHOOSES YOU. He doesn’t care about the mess. While the rest of the world might still be talking about all the things you did wrong, He doesn’t care. He can’t take his eyes off of you. He wants to meet you face to face and wash away your shame.

There is something about being met where you are. It’s powerful, healing, and freeing. It changes us forever. Once we’ve tasted of living water, we don’t ever want to go back to those sin-filled God substitutes. We only want the real thing. We have tasted and seen that he IS good.

For every person who threw you away when you needed them the most, I am sorry. For every person who was ashamed to be seen with you, who made you feel unworthy, I am sorry. If you were here in front of me, I would make you look me in the eye and promise me you understood this next part: that wasn’t Jesus. He sees the mess. He says it doesn’t define you. He wants you. He loves you just the same.

Beloved, you are the woman at the well. He found you, thirsty, and he offered you living water that you might never thirst again. He knew all of your secrets and they didn’t change a thing. You tasted, and you found that he is good. This is your story. The story he wants you to have.

Stacey Philpot is wife to Ryan and mother to Hayden, Julie, and Avery. She is a writer, goofball, and avid reader. Stacey has ministered for over 15 years to youth and women in her community in order to equip them to go deeper in Christ. She blogs at aliferepaired.com and chronicallywhole.com.

Photograph used with permission from, and copyright of, Michelle Lenger.