Read: John 4:5-42

Back in the day when my kids were small, I had a conversation with one of them in which I reminded them to go brush their teeth. The child in question bristled at the insulting suggestion that they had dragon breath and informed me that I shouldn’t say that to them because “it’s mean.” I wondered aloud if it would be nicer to lie to them instead and let them run all over town with dragon breath, offending all their friends? Predictably, the child said: “Yes! That’s nicer!” Leave their stink alone, thankyouverymuch.

Like stinky-breath kid, truth can sometimes seem rather unappealing and rude to me. Peering into a difficult truth that God is bringing to my attention sometimes requires more humility than I’m prepared to offer at this juncture, thankyouverymuch. I have reasons. I have history. I have justifications, defenses, and shame stashes that I nurture like old friends. I recognize the argumentative woman in John 4 who demands answers but doesn’t much like the answers as they strike uncomfortably close to broken, messy places. She pushes back at least 6 times against Jesus’ requests and revelations, as he persists in loving her, not dissuaded by her defensive brokenness.

John 4 makes me fall in love with this Jesus the truth-teller, the tender friend, the persistent Savior. So much about Jesus is revealed in how he cares so beautifully for the defensive Samaritan woman. He knows “everything about her” and needs her to know that he knows it all: why she balks, every resistant thought, excuse, justification, insecurity, and historic shame. He knows it is panic-producing for her but presses in and persists in love and truth anyway because hope is just on the other side.

Thank you Lord, for persisting when I am uncooperative. Thank you for not giving up on me when I reject grace. Thank you for the complete and tender way that you love me and refuse to leave me in the lie. I do not deserve you but I sure do love you. Amen.
-Nicole Smith