That woman was a sinner,
The woman at the well,
Not the type who talks with God
Very earthy, carnally so.
No searching her heart for things of heaven.
But for a man, she would seek
The kind sensuous women want.
Song of Songs is she, literally.
That woman was a Samaritan,
The woman at the well.
Wrong race, wrong morals. Them!
God would not be seeking her kind
He seeks only the holy of heart and mind. Right?
He loves the righteous, not the suspicious.
Can’t she learn her proper place?
She acts as if God speaks to her.
That woman was an outcast,
The woman at the well.
Even heretical Samaritans knew that, knew her.
Divorced! How many times? Living with some man.
A failure, a social misfit, irreligious to the max.
She came to the well at noon, shamelessly.
Decent women came together in the morning, not her.
She comes to seduce Him from His mission!
That woman was shameless and bold,
The woman at the well.
Not the kind decent people care to meet.
She wants a drink, I’ll bet she does.
Flirting with a man in broad daylight,
Not just any man, a foreigner!
So alluring, so tempting, so seductive.
Is she the lover or the beloved?
That woman was too open,
The woman at the well.
To new ideas, and to divine love,
So ready to embrace any man.
How dare she speak of God?
He sees right through her.
Can’t she see how wrong she is
To believe, to convert, to share the Gospel truth?
The woman was a sinner, that woman at the well.
She confessed, God already knew. It helped her see.
Very desirous, her heart was smitten,
She found what she looked for but could not see.
Rightly named. Disciple, saint, evangelist, martyr.
Photini, pray that we may drink as deeply as you
Of the Living Water whose source He is.
I’ve come to the well, a sinner too. “Give Me a drink,” says He wearily.
Fraternized 