The Well

I'll start with context..... I just finished reading the book “Mimosa” which is a true story of a woman that Amy Carmichael worked with.  The book is great and challenged my heart and perspective on many levels. Mimosa had heard a small drop about God when she was young and missionaries were speaking to her father trying to ask permission to teach the children.  Though that was the only seed that was planted, that seed grew and the roots became very deep even though she knew very little about this God whom she had so much faith in.  She was often shunned by the Hindu culture and caste in which she was surrounded by.  In a desperate time, she reached out to a family member who professed to be a Christian, for just some money and help but was totally shut out by them. One of the quotes from Mimosa after this happened that continued to stick out to me was when she said “Christians! Why were they so different from their God?” 

 

It was that quote and that context in which I wrote the poem below.  Later in Mimosa’s life, she came to know more about the God whom she so strongly had faith in without book knowledge but it was with no help from this “Christian” family that rejected her.  I don’t want to be a “Christian” in name that pushes people away from knowing and experiencing who Christ is.  I don’t want to see that for the Church as a whole either, and so in this mindset a prayer poem was born.

The Well

There once was a girl with a thirst in her heart,

like a tender seed planted along the way.

She was thrown a bone oh so long ago,

but then another pot of water never came.

She clung hard to life, and through pain and strife,

she continued to grow though storm clouds brewed.

Then the weeds they came, trying to leave her slain,

telling her that all the waiting was in vain,

and that the wishing well was no place to dwell,

she’d be better off casting spells.

But she clung to faith through the stormy days,

knowing that her faith had made her strong.

Her roots went deep and wide through her sacrifice,

even though she only had a seed of knowledge to go on.

But now hopes alive, she can see the well where true life abides,

it is flanked by folks on every side.

She draws close to find, searching for new life

but she’s astounded by the sights of those unkind.

The folks that congregate, oh they have little faith,

and the riches offered here are laid to waste.

The gossip abounds and the judgments prevail,

this well is surrounded by a clouded veil.

Not because the well is trying to hide,

but because the people around it have misapplied.

She pushes through the crowd to finally make her way,

to the well so deep and free.

She takes an empty pail and draws out from the well

and drinks it in so deeply.

All that pain and strife, it was worth the fight,

for the well that never will go dry.

Though the people fail, God’s well will always prevail,

giving life and liberty.

But Church, let’s take a stand, to not limit but expand

His reach to those found deep and wide….

---deep within their hurt and wide from offence of the hypocrisy of our lights.

Let us be the mirrors reflecting His own light,

shining deep into the hearts of men.

Let us not build walls to keep people out

and let not our stench of pride be such that no one wants in.

For His Word prevails, and He calls them home,

so who are we to not let them in?

I pray we lay down strife and seek to love others like Christ,

for it was His love in our most broken state that caused Him to pay the price,

and in His death our punishment sufficed.

I pray all come to this Well, and find life.

Joy Lynn