“Therefore with joy you will draw water from the wells of salvation.” ~ Isaiah 12:3, NKJV

My mind does strange things sometimes, but sometimes the strange things are actually beautiful. This is one of those beautiful times.

As I read Isaiah’s words this morning, my imagination transported me to an era long ago where horse and buggies cluttered the dirt streets through the small mountain villages and the women were covered from head-to-toe with layers of petticoats, corsets, and bustles.

I warned you my mind is strange sometimes.

Perhaps it was because we live in a 112 year old farmhouse.
Perhaps it was because my home is a disastrous mess right now and I lack the energy to clean or
Perhaps it was because I felt like anything but a proper, successful, strong woman of the 21st century.

Whatever the reason, I had a God-moment.

I pictured a pioneer woman. Her long cotton skirt rustled in the breeze as the impending storm clouds stirred the air. She wiped her brow, dirty and glistening with beads of sweat wrung from her toil on the land God had given her.

If I can just rest a minute and quench this thirst, she thought.

The handle on the pump was hot from the noon-day sun. It squeaked as she raised it up and then pushed down. Up. Down. Up. Down.

The thirsty woman knew what she wanted – needed.
She knew that to quench her thirst required effort.
She also knew she had to persist with the pumping until the water began to avail itself from the well below.

Just when her thirst was too much to bear and her arm grew weary and impatient, the water began to gush. She laughed with delight. Cool water trickled down her parched throat bringing refreshment. She splashed the liquid joy over her sweaty brow and drank in its gift of renewal.

What if she decided to stop pumping before the water sprang from its deep chamber?
What if she decided that she would always be thirsty and just give up on drawing the water to her need?

I was that woman at the well. Parched from stress and worry, I needed a drink of Living Water. The Lord showed me that I had to go to the source of the water – Jesus – the well of my salvation. I had to desire the Water enough to make an effort, a choice, a persistent determination that nothing else would satisfy.

Or I could just remain thirsty.
And miserable.

I chose to pump the water.

I sang songs of praise. I thanked God for Who He is and for the many blessings in my life. I emptied myself of self so there was room for His river of life – the source of my well of salvation.

Buckets of water sprang forth. Joyful, giddy buckets overflowed and filled my broken places with Jesus.

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