Monday, November 28, 2011

wrecked and broken, I come

I come to the well, where the woman met him. 

Wrecked and broken in a thousand and more ways

I come with nothing because my all is staked on Him. 

I hunger for one look into His eyes, that well of love bearing life eternal.

I come with all of the shattered pieces because it is only with the wounded hands, the cuts of shame and guilt and doubt and pain that I look to His wounded hands and feet and side and flagellated body.

And though as wrecked and broken I have come repeatedly before, it remains the only way.

If this journey we are walking can be highlighted supremely by any work happening in me, it is the knowing so deep of all that shatters and falls and fails :: the can-not-make-it-me.

And as I draw the ragged breath and hold my hardly beating heart in these fragile hands to Him, I learn that one great thing that lies deepest in the place of the well.

I would never see Him face-to-face and dip my shaking self deep into His drink if I came all whole and put together and holding all things close and well and living up to the expectations long set mostly by the haunting imaginary me.

And yet I know I try, oh how I try, try, try to put on the pretty bow and wear the fullest smile and be the BEST in everything to present this finest dressed one to Him, here, at the well.

But I hit a wall of plexi-glass and there He is and I want to be with Him.  But this glass, a mile-high is that dim reflection of who I think I should be and it grows thicker and taller with each look I take at who I believe is the one good enough to honor this man from Galilee.

Yet He reminds that my wrecked and broken is what honors Him.

He comes to me, never leaving the well, but those fiery light-filled, the cool-blue piercing eyes they melt the glass and read this heart of mine’s desire for a Beauty Eternal, worth the surrender of all I imagine I can do or be or muster up the self to become.

And when the glass melts the image oozes down to the ground and the eyes they reach into all of my naked humanity and how could I have ever thought it possible to dress myself in more than filthy rags?

Wrecked and broken, bleeding and busted, swollen and blistered with a heart that beats harder at each step, I come to the well.

{We visited for the second week in a row the woman at the well during the message at church…these sentiments are my heart’s journey to come to the well knowing I am just like her}

Joining the last week of a month long link-up at my great friend, Stacey’s for Write it, girl! AND




Lord God of the Well, I thank You ::

  • You wait for me at the well
  • You allow this imaginary me, so that I might die to it
  • You gently show me the wrecked and broken that I am
  • You never let me see You when I bring something to Your feet
  • Your Beauty is infinitely better than…ANYTHING!
  • For precious time with family
    • Thanksgiving meal prepared for family
    • Together…simply being together
    • Sharing from the heart about the year
    • Taking up the mantle in our generation
    • Backyard football and everybody playsSmile
    • Son, the only little boy, in a huddle with three men
    • For pitches and runs with little feet and little hands holding the ball
    • For both sets of parents to join later
    • For a full heart (and stomachWinking smile) at the end of the day
    • For the year crowned with YOUR BOUNTY
    • For amazing family shots this weekend
    • For a wonderful photographer who is also a friend
    • For little smiles and hugs
    • For love surrounding all
    • For stones by the dam…never get enough
    • For the joy of this kind of love
  • For the lessons of this time :: a hard eucharisteo
  • For showing me my doubts and fears
  • For YOU, Your truth, always and ever the answer
  • For ALL of Your promises ‘yes and amen!’ in Him
  • For showing us how to live each day…
  • For the BEST always and ever…YET TO COME!




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