So, Happy Mother's Day, mom. You really are the best! Thanks for sharing your enthusiasm for life with me (and for never screening my calls! ). Love you.









4Now he had to go through Samaria. 5So he came to a town in Samaria called Sychar, near the plot of ground Jacob had given to his son Joseph. 6Jacob's well was there, and Jesus, tired as he was from the journey, sat down by the well. It was about the sixth hour.
7When a Samaritan woman came to draw water, Jesus said to her, "Will you give me a drink?" 8(His disciples had gone into the town to buy food.)
9The Samaritan woman said to him, "You are a Jew and I am a Samaritan woman. How can you ask me for a drink?" (For Jews do not associate with Samaritans.[a])
10Jesus answered her, "If you knew the gift of God and who it is that asks you for a drink, you would have asked him and he would have given you living water."
11"Sir," the woman said, "you have nothing to draw with and the well is deep. Where can you get this living water? 12Are you greater than our father Jacob, who gave us the well and drank from it himself, as did also his sons and his flocks and herds?"
13Jesus answered, "Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, 14but whoever drinks the water I give him will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life."
15The woman said to him, "Sir, give me this water so that I won't get thirsty and have to keep coming here to draw water."
16He told her, "Go, call your husband and come back."
17"I have no husband," she replied.
Jesus said to her, "You are right when you say you have no husband. 18The fact is, you have had five husbands, and the man you now have is not your husband. What you have just said is quite true."
19"Sir," the woman said, "I can see that you are a prophet. 20Our fathers worshiped on this mountain, but you Jews claim that the place where we must worship is in Jerusalem."
21Jesus declared, "Believe me, woman, a time is coming when you will worship the Father neither on this mountain nor in Jerusalem. 22You Samaritans worship what you do not know; we worship what we do know, for salvation is from the Jews. 23Yet a time is coming and has now come when the true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and truth, for they are the kind of worshipers the Father seeks. 24God is spirit, and his worshipers must worship in spirit and in truth."
25The woman said, "I know that Messiah" (called Christ) "is coming. When he comes, he will explain everything to us."
26Then Jesus declared, "I who speak to you am he."
John 4:5-26
I love this interaction Jesus has with the Samaritan woman. I love it because I have felt like this woman. I love it because Jesus doesn’t condemn her lifestyle, but speaks truth to her in a way that creates in her a desire for change. I think it’s awfully hard to see people close to us making decisions we don’t think are wise, or “Godly” or whatever. No one likes to be called out on making poor decisions, but we love to be praised and admired when we do “good” things.
So often, I make choices that reflect a desire to drink from wells that will go dry. I trade in the living well that God provides for instant gratification, the allure of worldly success, or the affirmation of those around me. And even though time and time again I realize that drinking from that well leaves me thirsty and exhausted, I still try to find my own well to sustain me, rather than accepting the free, living water God provides.
And I see this in people close to me as well. One failed relationship? Just jump into another. Bad day at work? Happy hour(s) ought to do the trick. Fear of commitment? A one-night stand lifestyle is fine—no one gets hurt, right? We go through life with this—hey whatever makes you happy—mentality. But, it’s like Sheryl Crow sang (and I am so pissed tickets to her concert sold out in like one second..grr) “if it makes you happy, then why the hell are you so sad?”
We’re sad because we try to create circumstances that will sustain us that never do. We expect relationships to meet all of our needs that can never be met by one person. And we keep going back for more. Our thirst never gets quenched. We are never satisfied by these cheap substitutes. Sure, a night of drinking can help me forget the pain of being lonely, but how long does that last—2 hours? Sure, hooking up can make me feel desired and attractive—but what about the next day? Full of shame, disgusted with myself, and no closer to having my insecurities fixed.
Jesus promises us living water—He promises us that once we drink, we will thirst no more. Our desires, our passions, our deepest longings will be quenched. I just don’t get why so often I’m like the prodigal son—running off, trying to find and create my own living water when God offers it to me for free?
The substitutes don’t work. And it breaks my heart to see so many people get caught up in the crap that this world “offers” because I’ve been sucked in by it, too. But, it just leaves you feeling more thirsty, more messed up, and more frustrated with yourself.
Why do we stay enslaved to our self-created substitutes, when we can experience freedom by drinking from God’s living water?

4Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. 5It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. 6Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. 7It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
8Love never fails.
2There was a violent earthquake, for an angel of the Lord came down from heaven and, going to the tomb, rolled back the stone and sat on it. 3His appearance was like lightning, and his clothes were white as snow. 4The guards were so afraid of him that they shook and became like dead men.
5The angel said to the women, "Do not be afraid, for I know that you are looking for Jesus, who was crucified. 6He is not here; he has risen, just as he said. Come and see the place where he lay. 7Then go quickly and tell his disciples: 'He has risen from the dead and is going ahead of you into Galilee. There you will see him.' Now I have told you."
8So the women hurried away from the tomb, afraid yet filled with joy, and ran to tell his disciples. 9Suddenly Jesus met them. "Greetings," he said. They came to him, clasped his feet and worshiped him. 10Then Jesus said to them, "Do not be afraid. Go and tell my brothers to go to Galilee; there they will see me."
I hope your Easter is filled with jelly beans (the black ones are awesome), Peter cotton tail, Easter lilies, brunch, maybe some ham, family time, easter egg hunts, reflection, joy, that fake grass that seems to get stuck to everything, an overflowing Easter basket, colored eggs, chocolate bunnies, and all things sugar-coated and wonderful.

Andrew Largeman: You know that point in your life when you realize that the house that you grew up in isn't really your home anymore? All of the sudden even though you have some place where you can put your stuff that idea of home is gone.
Sam: I still feel at home in my house.
Andrew Largeman: You'll see when you move out it just sort of happens one day one day and it's just gone. And you can never get it back. It's like you get homesick for a place that doesn't exist. I mean it's like this rite of passage, you know. You won't have this feeling again until you create a new idea of home for yourself, you know, for you kids, for the family you start, it's like a cycle or something. I miss the idea of it. Maybe that's all family really is. A group of people who miss the same imaginary place.
-Garden State
This past weekend I went home to Toledo. I feel like I'm in this weird place in my life where I have no "home." I mean I have a place I live and then I have my childhood home. But neither really feels like home.
I'm not sure what I expected when I arrived home. My bedroom no longer pays homage to my high school/college athlete days. The awards have been taken down. My pictures have been replaced. A new bedspread covers the bed that I used to sleep in. There is now a nice flat screen television on the shelves where my school books used to be (and seriously mom and dad? you wait until I leave to put a sweet tv in my room??) The drawers in my dresser are practically empty and my closet is now home to the overflow from my parent's closet. My bedroom is now an office/guest room.
It's not like I don't have a place to stay, and it's not like I don't feel welcome. It just doesn't feel like my home anymore. And don't get me wrong, I love going home and I love my parents. I guess part of me just thought when I moved out, time would kind of stand still at home. But, things keep going. My parents don't just sit around waiting for me to return. They have their own lives and I have mine. It's just weird getting older. And I'm sure most people deal with this detachment from home when they are younger than I am, more like when they graduate college or something. But, I loved living at home during law school.
When I moved in August I cried on my drive down here, leaving my home and my parents. And each time since then that I've been back to Toledo, I've teared up as I drive away. This time, though, I didn't. And the fact that I didn't get a little teared up made me sad! (I'm a nut...I know.)
And now it seems like that place just doesn't exist anymore. I guess I just miss living in a place where I feel like part of a family.


