About That...

How much of your life are you willing to be honest about? 

It's an interesting question because in my experience, every one of us has some things we would rather hide. Anyone who knows me knows I'm fairly open about my life, but it's taken me a long time to get there and that doesn't mean I'm ready to confess everything. 

But then, there's this woman at a well, and well...she makes me think about things. 

Remember her? You can find her story in John 4. 

Jesus travels to Samaria, and His disciples go on into town looking for provisions while He takes a rest by a well on the outskirts of town. (Think here about all the wells in the Old Testament. That's fun.) Anyway, here comes a woman in the heat of the day, far from the time when anyone else would be coming to the well. And that's on purpose. 

She's got a reputation. Everyone in town knows her story, and they aren't impressed by it. She's a reject. A waste. Maybe a danger, we can't be sure. She's had multiple husbands, which means that either the men are divorcing her for some major character flaw that she has or they are dying. Neither is a particularly good look for her. So she comes out for water when she knows she'll be alone. 

But then, there's this man. Just sitting there. Like...what? 

Jesus strikes up a conversation. They start talking about water. Or so she thinks. She's talking about water; Jesus is talking about living water, which is an entirely different thing. And then Jesus says to her, "Go and get your husband." 

Now, this is still a stranger. She doesn't know who this man is. He, apparently, doesn't know her. She could say anything here, anything she wants to. She decides on a - somewhat limited - version of the truth: 

I don't have a husband.

It's technically true. She doesn't currently have a husband. But it conveniently leaves out the rest of the story, which Jesus goes ahead and fills in for her: 

You're right. You don't have a husband. The full truth is that you've had five husbands, but the man you are living with now is not one of them. 

Ouch. 

And yet, can we give her a little credit here for owning her situation? She rightly states that she doesn't have a husband. She doesn't pour out her whole story (it must be refreshing to think you're talking to someone, finally, who doesn't know it), but she's honest. 

She didn't have to be honest. She could have walked Jesus back to wherever she was living and walked right in like she owned the place and engaged immediately with the man who lives there and an average man might not know the difference. It sure would have saved her the shame of being a single woman at her age. Who would it have hurt? 

On the other hand, she could have really poured out her story and told everything and risked embarrassing or shaming herself. But why would she do that? 

It wouldn't have been uncommon for a strange man to want to speak to the husband of a woman he was talking to. It was respectful. It would have indicated he was drawing clear lines to make clear that he was not intending anything, that he wasn't stepping onto another man's turf. If she was single, maybe a strange man would have then wanted to talk to her father, to whatever man was responsible for her. This could have been a hook-up. She might have thought she was looking at husband #6. I don't have a husband....do you want to apply for the job?

Regardless of what might have been going on in her head, she tells the truth about her status in life when there are all sorts of opportunities to offer a different narrative, and, well, something about that strikes me. 

Something about that makes me think about the ways that I present my own story, about the ways that others present their stories to me. It seems in our culture, we're so often trying to tell the stories we think others want to hear, that they'll be most impressed by, that make us look the best in someone else's eyes. We spin things, with enough truth that it checks out if anyone looks a little in that direction, but not the whole truth because...why would we do that? 

And then, there's Jesus. And the gentleness with which He says, You're right. That's the truth. But the full truth is.... 

And I want a God who speaks like that into my life. 

Just like the woman at the well, that's one of the ways that I know He is the Lord.