Two Days at Sychar

She ran to tell them

Of the man who met her at the well

In mid-day’s heat

As if for her alone

He came to tell

That she was through with daily thirst

And shameful gossip-thrust

How did He know

Those desperate years of

License and of lust?

A prophet, true

And one who spoke

Of waters to impart

No mocker He

Serenity

Contentment for her heart.

So off she ran

“Come see the man

Who knows my every deed

Forgives it all,

The big, the small

And leaves my conscience freed.

Yes drink of Him

The fresh supply of

Spirit without end.”

They came, they heard.

They took His word

And hailed Him as their friend.

 

 

Oh brother men, have ye received this blessed gift, with its fresh spontaneousness, its inner hidden blessedness, its eternal timeless essence, its power of entire satisfaction? If not, why not seek forthwith from Him by faith a boon so inexpressibly precious, to have which were to make wildernesses flower and deserts sing? (F. B. Meyer, 1847-1929, The Life of Love: John’s Gospel)

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