A pit or a well?

 

Sometimes in life you are called to dig deep. Whether you dig a pit or a well is up to you. 

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I am farther from the blue sky and radiant sun, descending into quiet and shadows, away from the crowds and admiring faces. I often am merely aware of the dark walls surrounding me, of the effort of the digging, the repetitive movement, muscle aching at the dance they know so well.

The sweat drains in rivulets down my back and tiny droplets hover, suspended on the tip of my nose, then let go in a torturingly slow drop …drop… drop. The very thought of the never-ending task makes me want to close my mind. Work unrewarded—no applause and flowers and curtain call at the end. Just those walls getting higher.

I am digging. But perhaps I am not digging a pit after all. Digging deep, sweating, and persevering in order to bring about something productive and life-giving. Sheer drops of refreshment, an oasis for the thirsty. Instead of a pit, I am digging a well.

From the bowels of the earth will spring streams of water, quenching the thirsty ground, running in enthusiastic little rivers at first, then filling and flooding and pouring in to make an abundant reservoir, a welcome sign to weary travelers, a sparkle of hope for those lost in the desert, a gathering place for community, a place of connection and belonging and daily life happenings. 

Will I become a woman who is not just broad but deep? Will I search after wisdom and cry for her in the streets? Will I serve the Lord in only the ways of my own choosing or as He has called me? Will I work to grow and become a resource and help to many—and will it ever happen without self-sacrifice? 

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 Many days, I am just moving dirt, sweating a lot, and watching the earthen walls get taller around me. "A pit!" my soul cries out in alarm. "Go back to safety, don't dig so deep. Maybe moving this earth is futile after all." But once in awhile, I see a productive trickle that might just turn into a stream one day. I want to bring life and refreshment to people around me. Fill me up, Lord, with your abundance and make this dry pit live! Use me. 

 An oasis of life-giving refreshment, a reservoir to share with others, a place for community, hope for those lost in the desert and thirst-quenching goodness for a parched body. Only through Christ can I become a vessel to serve others in this way. He is the only one who offers this kind of life. I am humbled that He can use my "clay and earth" imperfect self to offer His goodness to others. He never runs dry.