Keep in touch! I’d love to hear more.
Precariously yours — gm

A little on me so so you will understand why people like you are so precariously precious to people like me. I don’t care which come first; the chicken or the egg. Whether I called on God before He called on me or whether it was his constant never ending presence in my life (yes, God I know you’re there, now leave me alone). I can not tell you the date and time that I submitted control of my life to God – (nor do I care if God is keeping a tally of my many failed attempts at this). God has stood inside of me and shouted that “I AM HERE”(when I thought I was all alone) “YOU ARE A CHILD OF GOD” (when I questioned my identity). God has never asked me to convince or convert my friends, family, or foreigners – only to Love, to forgive, and to Love some more. When people call me “Christian” – I cringe. The connotation frightens me. When people call me a Christian, I ask them what they mean by “that”, I encourage dialogue, I delve to distinguish between hyperbole and their heart – or sometimes I just laugh and walk away.

Haha – I’m rambling(again) – so onto my point; Jacobs Well and the woman that scoffed at Jesus. This story use to piss me off before i realized that Jesus was a Suffragette and before I saw the Utube “Woman at the Well” {Erica Moon}.

I mean c’mon man -she’s working her ass off and Jesus wanted her to get HIM a drink of water – (typical “man” bullSht!). But I wasn’t listening and I wasn’t hearing.

Eventually I came to know HER – an outcast of outcasts, the very “least” of her people, a realist, scared, alone, a fighter, a survivor( she reminded me of me.) At the well, alone at noon – because a woman of her stature, or her reputation was not welcome at any other time.

Eventually I came to know HIM – whom arrived at precisely the right moment – not when “all the women” were there, but when only she was. Armed with the knowledge of her life – not to condemn her but to show her Love, Mercy, and Grace. Armed – not for destruction. Armed – for Love.

There is no defining place, no defining moment to mark my “Christdom” BUT…at Jacob’s well, I find that I am not forgotten but am Known and that despite what is “known” I am Loved. I find Christ.

To be Known is to be Loved and to be Loved is to be Known – otherwise, what’s the point of doing either one of them. (quoted from that Utube video -from which I have memorized every word)

And so Thank You….