The Struggles of Unloved Women

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Behind Door One

The Woman of Samaria: Discovering the Living Water

The woman said, “I know that Messiah” (called Christ) “is coming. When he comes, he will explain everything to us.”

John 4:25

“What are you looking at? I can see you peering at me from behind that curtain!” I yelled at the woman across the road as I picked up my water pot and made my way to the well. It was boiling hot in the noonday sun and I was just not in the mood. It was the time that I traveled to the well to draw water. “If they want nothing to do with me, why are they so interested in my comings and my goings?” I thought. Of course, I am speaking about the people in my town. I have been a target of ridicule, gossip and judgment for as long as I can remember. I have been ostracized, criticized, and rejected. Nobody wants anything to do with me because I am a sinner. Ha! You should see them—the women I mean—clinging to their husbands whenever I pass along the road. Ah yes, but that does not stop the roving eyes of their men from watching me until I fade into the distance. I see them. I can feel their lustful eyes staring at me.

I have been called everything but my real name. You name it—and that is me. I am a harlot, a prostitute, a woman with a sordid past, and even an adulteress. Have I been with men? Yes, I sure have. I am called promiscuous. Do I drink? Yes! Have I ever been drunk? Sure, many times. I have even been labeled a drunkard—and I could run with the best of them! That said, I do have a name—but no one has ever bothered to ask me—“What is your name, dear?” To them, I am anonymous. I am the invisible woman. Whether colloquial or proper language is used, the most judgmental and hurtful label of all is the one that stuck with me the most—“She is a sinner!” Yes, I am, and I probably was the highest-ranking sinner in Sychar—at least that is what the town’s people believed.

My life was lived over two-thousand years ago and still today I am called the “unnamed” or “anonymous” woman at the well. I am the Samaritan woman. Who refers to someone by his or her country anyway? “The Samaritan woman?” Get real! Am I proud of my life? I never have been! Nevertheless, in retrospect, I am grateful for everything that happened to me, and I will gladly tell you why. I am the Woman of Samaria, and this is my story. My Hometown in Samaria

My story begins in the capital city of Samaria, a little-known place called Sychar. Sychar, situated in the so-called “fat valleys” of the land, was known for its rich soils and hearty vegetation. When Israel journeyed from Egypt to the Promised Land, the tribe of Ephraim settled there. God blessed this glorious land and gave it as an inheritance to the Israelites—God’s chosen people. Unfortunately, what God had blessed to be “a crown of glory” turned into a “crown of pride”—a den of drunkenness, licentiousness, idolatry, and riotous living (Isaiah 28:1–7). The wealthy inhabitants abused and exploited the land and its people. Consequently, the Jews harbored a deep contempt toward the Samaritans and characterized Sychar as a “lying” and “drunken” town. Even the priest and prophets were drunkards. Corrupted by their idolatrous practices, they embraced many unholy alliances. The pleasure-seeking rituals of the leaders in Sychar led to pervasive sexual exploitation, murders, and poverty. Thus, it was difficult for anyone, even the most devout person, to live in Sychar without being influenced by its depravity. Sadly, even I was overcome by the wantonness of Sychar.1

Temple worship was a significant part of our everyday lives, yet, sin was rampant! Many of us meandered through life without any real purpose, and generations of my people were perishing because we were oblivious to the true meaning of worship. My life is important in that, many women can relate to my story, especially those who have found themselves in similar situations. Yes, many lessons can be learned from not only my past, but also my encounter with the Jewish stranger I met one day at the well.