I visit a well often. It’s deep and wide. I search for hours, turning to days, for comfort and love. It offers me nothing. For some unknown reason I continue to visit this well where my cries and screams echo for miles with no return answers to the needs of my heart.

 

“The well is empty,” I hear a voice say, yet, I do not listen. I dare not.

 

I scratch and claw to the depths of this place hoping to find that which I seem to be lacking. Nothing.

 

I faintly hear a kind voice in the distance drawing me ever so sweetly. I refuse. I go back to my well.

 

I’ve become familiar with the empty well and it becomes home to me. I sit by it, climb it, jump into it, and stay close to it. Still, there is no embrace given back for my efforts.

 

I can’t seem to leave it although it is evident there is no “wishing well” here that leads to abundant life. It’s all I’ve ever known. Emptiness.

 

“That” voice calls me again from what seems far away and offers me a life of acceptance and purpose. “That can’t be true, I whisper.” My heart won’t give way to this possibility. Love exists? For me?

 

For one moment I gaze over my shoulder to catch a glimpse of the voice I hear calling. My hands will not let go of the fierce grip I have on my well. Sadness swells in my soul. “I can’t!” “What if I’m wrong?” “I mustn’t let hope arise only to be wrecked again!”

 

I can see the faint image of another well. It’s overflowing with water. The water seems to move and bubble with life. I want it. I need it. It’s waiting for me. The voice sounds so kind, yet powerful. So loving, yet so just. Who is He? I want to know. My heart sends out a deep longing and yearning for that which I hear. The battle in my mind is overwhelming. How can I risk leaving my empty well?

 

Sudden fear and panic strike my heart and I wince at the thought of a new beginning. It is decision time and I ponder both wells. Old and new. Empty and full.

 

As tears fall into my deep well I am unable to risk leaving this familiar place. I choose to stay with my empty well.

 

It’s quiet now. A deep sadness covers my frame and I stare into my old friend. It’s glad I stayed. We are companions. Yet, it will offer me nothing of friendship. Nothing of love. Only a slow death.

 

Empty.

 

It is a place now of great loss. Simply because I feared the unknown. I cling to my well with hidden sorrow. For deep inside I feel a betrayal I cannot explain. Eternity calls and writes continuously on my heart. I can still hear Him.

 

Perhaps one day….I will follow…

 

He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the hearts of men, yet they cannot fathom the work God has done from beginning to end.

Eccl. 3:11