Jesus answered, "Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life." John 4:13-14
We recently learned the practice of Lectio Divina, a method of Scripture reading that helps foster intimacy and closeness with God. When we encounter the Lord and drink His water, it has a soul-quenching, intense ripple effect.
These last couple of years have been what I would describe as a "dark night of the soul." It has other words, although none were in my vocabulary during this season: Disorientation. Deconstruction of faith (not my belief in Jesus, but my faith). Darkness. Disruption. It isn't depression in the emotional sense; it is spiritual, and I've found it quite common in believers who seek Him (this is a helpful podcast on “the dark night of the soul” if you’re interested).
This season reminded me of the Israelites when they were hungry (and complaining), and God sent them manna. Manna means, "What?" It was unexpected, unidentifiable, without a name, and made the people say, "What?!" (I added the punctuation at the end to help convey the idea). It was a season where all I could say is, “What is this?!”
During this spiritual winter in the valley, God and I conversed little. I had no words for Him. I wrote about it in my Wordless Groans post and The Wrestling Christ. That was all I could say about it. Even as I went through godly counseling, I still didn't understand what was happening. I am just now coming up out of “it.” It is finally Sunday (but you have to go through the death of Friday and Saturday to get to Sunday).
Recently, a beautiful friend walking through her own "disorientation season" asked me if I had fully grieved and let go of all that occurred in that whirlwind. I love how she was willing to ask me the hard questions I wasn’t asking of myself. Here's what I replied back—and I share them with you to encourage you wherever you are:
"Have I got it all out? No. Did I fully lament all I named and lost? No. But I can say with surety today: I did meet my Savior in a real way who would let me heave it on His broad shoulders every day instead of carrying it myself. And that has brought me hope for tomorrow. He's bigger than I thought."
You see, our desire for God is a persistent thirst. David likened it to "a dry and weary land where there is no water" (Psalm 63:1). There are seasons when we experience such a desert and deserted-feeling faith. Does that mean we've "moved away" from God? It does not.
As much as I wanted to ignore God in the darkness, He knew my deepest desire was to know Him more and fully surrender to Him. It's when we are in these hopeless and helpless places that we are most poised to have an encounter with God.
That's why Jesus said in John 4:14, "...everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life."
The deep soul-thirst in us is unquenchable unless we encounter God. If you don't know what that word “encounter” really means, keep seeking. If you don't understand what I’m communicating, keep going. Your efforts will feel worthless, and you will come to an end of yourself. I had heard words like "surrender," "abide," and "encounter" for so many years (and still grew tremendously in my faith over those years), yet I still had this unexplainable longing. Keep knocking.
I longed for Him to satisfy me. I didn't always believe it was possible. I didn't always want Him. But, I wanted to want Him. I wanted that intimate and fierce relationship with Christ to be true without so much effort.
So, if this is you today: the woman at the well, questioning God (see last week's post) and wondering where this torrent of living water dwells—whether this kind of Savior truly exists and if He will come to you personally—tarry a bit longer.
I love how the verse in John 4:14 says, "the water I give them will become in them a spring of water..." The phrase, "will become" in Hebrew is "ginomae" (ghin'-om-ahee), and it means "will come to pass, arise, happen, to be made, shall be, come upon the stage." Beloved, the well you seek will ginomai in you. It is certain.
This Word should give us such hope. If your anchor is in Christ, you can trust that what He has seeded in you will become.
"Being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus." Philippians 1:6
2 Peter 1:3, "His divine power has given us everything we need for a godly life through our knowledge of him who called us by his own glory and goodness."
I was talking with another friend this past week, and she shared her beautiful encounter with the Lord. She was long overdue and had layers of pain and trauma. As she wrote to me what was in her chaotic heart, and then she shared what the Lord spoken over her, it was life-shaking. It was her "at the well" moment that she could anchor to (the “event”) and continue down the healing path (the “process”).
When there is chaos, friends, that is where the Lord does His best work. Think back to the beginning.
"In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters. And God said, "Let there be light," and there was light. God saw that the light was good, and he separated the light from the darkness. God called the light "day," and the darkness he called "night." And there was evening, and there was morning—the first day." Genesis 1:1-5
He didn't remove the darkness, beloved; He hovered over it. He hovers over the chaos and creates beauty from it. We often think of the Old Testament "fighting God." And, yes, He is a warrior. However, we need to also remember the original design (pre-sin) where the Lord hovered and created goodness. When there is chaos, God does His best work.
I often tell others I "live on the edge of chaos." It doesn't mean I don't know how to rest or have peace (the Lord continues to work and rework me in this area) or that I'm constantly busy. But, for some reason, I thrive on the edge of chaos. Looking back at my dark night of the soul, I can understand it more now: My Savior delights to hover over my chaos. He delights in expanding the territory of my garden and transforming it into His likeness. It is good. And, it is good for you, too.
He is both the pillar of fire and the cloud (Exodus 13). Embrace the fullness of Who He is: Light and Dark.
P.S. Here is Part 2