Enter the other’s life.
Yesterday, I jumped right to the heart of the “Woman at the well” story, but if we look at the beginning of that episode, we can see something perhaps more remarkable than what Jesus told the woman there.
Think about Jesus, a man in His thirties, traipsing around Galilee and Judea (and Samaria in this case) trying to teach a bunch of people the truth about God. How frustrating must that have been?
In verse 6, we learn that Jesus was tired. Do you think, in His eternity of existence in heaven, He had ever been tired? A couple of verses later, Jesus asks the woman for a drink. Why? Presumably He was thirsty. I’m pretty sure that when you’re a part of the Godhead and dwelling in heaven, you don’t get thirsty. Where were the disciples? They had gone into town to buy food, because, unlike in heaven, people on earth get hungry.
What else did Jesus not have to put up with in heaven? He didn’t encounter sinful people there. He didn’t discover people who hated Him for his ethnicity–like the Samaritans–or for His teaching–like the Pharisees.
What kind of fool leaves all of that to come dwell among humans, knowing that He’d end up murdered horribly? What kind of fool? A loving fool. A loving person, a person who wants to create a relationship, enters into the life of the other.
Honestly, any sacrifice we make to enter the life of someone else on earth is absurdly tiny compared with the sacrifice Jesus made by that entry.
- Do you have relationships in which you refuse to enter into the life of the other person? How does that work for you?
- What limits are there to how we should enter into the lives of others? Does Jesus’ life offer insight there?
- Pray that God will show you steps you need to take to become a meaningful part of the life of some meaningful person.