Wells

Reading through Isaiah’s been a little dry recently. You know, one of those times when what you’re reading in Scripture isn’t matching up with the needs of your everyday-feet-on-the-ground-real-life. (We’re in the throes of massive decisions about schooling for the kids. But perhaps that’ll be a topic for later. In the meantime, you can pray. Thanks.)

And then I reached chapter 12. And it was what I needed. Here it is, in the Message.

And you will say in that day,

“I thank you, God.

You were angry

but your anger wasn’t forever.

You withdrew your anger

and moved in and comforted me.

“Yes, indeed—God is my salvation.

I trust, I won’t be afraid.

God—yes God!—is my strength and song,

best of all, my salvation!”

Joyfully you’ll pull up buckets of water

from the wells of salvation.

And as you do it, you’ll say,

“Give thanks to God.

Call out his name.

Ask him anything!

Shout to the nations, tell them what he’s done,

spread the news of his great reputation!

“Sing praise-songs to God. He’s done it all!

Let the whole earth know what he’s done!

Raise the roof! Sing your hearts out, O Zion!

The Greatest lives among you: The Holy of Israel.”

There are times when it’s easy to say “I trust, I won’t be afraid.” But most often I find that it’s a choice to plant my feet firmly (or even stomp a foot intentionally) and with a boldness I don’t feel, say (or just yell), “I trust, I won’t be afraid.” I choose to lean hard into the messiness of the indecision or the uncertainty or even the quietness of God. I can wait. If he’s not in a hurry, why should I be? 

Today “God--yes God!-- is my strength and song, best of all, my salvation!” Not sure what salvation will look like on this day, but I accept it as truth. He is. That is all. 

Now. About those buckets of water. 

Wells are usually pretty deep. Pulling up buckets of water requires a whole lot of effort. Muscles burning. Sweat dripping. Rope straining. How long does it take? Is the joy in the pulling or is the joy in the water? Or is it a delight in the salvation? 

But as you’re pulling, the rope rubbing blisters into your hands, “you’ll say, ‘Give thanks to God. Call out his name. Ask him anything! Shout to the nations, tell them what he’s done, spread the news of his great reputation!’” That’s even before the bucket reaches the top of the well. It’s before you’ve had a drink. It’s while the muscles are still straining and the sweat is still dripping. 

Today my decisions are still looming. The questions haunt my mind when I go to bed and they’re the first thoughts to enter my head in the morning. They just won’t. go. away. But I think I need to visit the well today. 

First, I’ll peer deeply into it. I might drop a pebble to hear a far away splash. Then I’ll lower the bucket. And I’ll keep letting out more and more and more rope. Cause, friends, this well of salvation is r.e.a.l.l.y. deep. Really. We’ve been offered so much. 

Today it will be hard work to bring that bucket back to the top. Today I will lean hard into the decisions looming. Today I my muscles will burn and the sweat will drip. 

And today, with unanswered questions, I’m shouting, 

“Give thanks to God. Call out his name. Ask him anything! Shout to the nations, tell them what he’s done, spread the news of his great reputation!”

Wanna join me? We’ll be intentional. It won’t be easy. But it will be worth it. 

Also, I’m not settling for just a drink today. How bout a water fight? Are you in?