Ch. 100 - Woman at the Well

I really didn't want to put up a video link two days in a row, so I figured I'd simply write out the video instead. I found this video poem on Godtube.com a few months ago and I fell in love with it. I thought about it today for some reason and watched it; the video is simply made, but the recitation is powerful and meaningful. If you'd like to check it out for yourself, go to http://www.godtube.com/ and in the search bar type "Woman at the Well".

Woman at the Well

I am a woman of no distinction, of little importance.
I am a woman of no reputation - save that which is bad.

You whisper as I pass by and cast judgmental glances,
though you don’t really take the time to look at me
or even get to know me, for

to be known is to be loved and to be loved is to be known.

And otherwise what’s the point of doing either one of them in the first place?

I want to be known.
I want someone to look at my face and not just see two eyes, a nose, a mouth, and two ears,
but to see all that I am and could be -
all my hopes, loves and fears.

That’s too much to hope for, to wish for or pray for.
So I don’t, not anymore.
Now I keep to myself and by that I mean the pain,
pain that keeps me in my own, private jail -
the pain that’s brought me here at midday to this well.

To ask for a drink is no big request, but to ask it of me?
A woman unclean,
ashamed,
used and abused,
an outcast,
a failure,
a disappointment,
a sinner?

No drink passing from these hands to your lips could ever be refreshing, only condemning,
as I’m sure you condemn me now,
but you don’t.

You’re a man of no distinction though of the utmost importance.
A man with little reputation, at least so far.
You whisper and tell me to my face what all those glances have been about,
and you take the time to really look at me
but don’t need to get to know me.

For to be known is to be loved and to be loved is to be known.

And you know me, you actually know me.
All of me and everything about me.
Every thought inside and hair on top of my head.
Every hurt stored up, every hope, every dread.
From my past and my future, all I am and could be.
You tell me everything, you tell me about me.

And that which is spoken by another would bring hate and condemnation,
coming from you brings love, grace, mercy, hope, and salvation.

I’ve heard of one to come who would save a wretch like me,
And here in my presence you say, “I am He.”

To be known is to be loved and to be loved is to be known.

And I just met you but I love you.
I don’t know you but I want to get to.

Let me run back to town, this is way too much for just me.
There are others -
brothers,
sisters,
lovers,
haters,
the good and the bad,
sinners and saints -

who should hear what you’ve told me,
who should see what you’ve shown me,
who should taste what you gave me,
who should feel how you forgave me.

For to be known is to be loved and to be loved is to be known.

And they all need this too,
we all do
need it for our own.


'When a Samaritan woman came to draw water, Jesus said to her, "Will you give me a drink?" (His disciples had gone into the town to buy food.) The Samaritan woman said to him, "You are a Jew and I am a Samaritan woman. How can you ask me for a drink?" (For Jews do not associate with Samaritans.) Jesus answered her, "If you knew the gift of God and who it is that asks you for a drink, you would have asked him and he would have given you living water." "Sir," the woman said, "you have nothing to draw with and the well is deep. Where can you get this living water? Are you greater than our father Jacob, who gave us the well and drank from it himself, as did also his sons and his flocks and herds?" Jesus answered, "Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give him will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life." '
[John 4:7-14]