This morning, myself and three other teammates were asked to go help locals fill their canteens at the well right outside our gate. Anticipating cold rain, constant miscommunication, and a long 3 hours of ministry, we slowly made walked ourselves to the gate. As we slipped our way through the mud to the fenced in well, we realized that is wasn’t adults we were helping but children. Kids from the ages of 5-13 were surrounding the spickets, filling massive jugs of water to carry home. As we started introducing ourselves, they realized we were there to help and immediately began giving directions. We were to carry these jugs up a small hill to the street where they could attach them to their donkeys and walk them home. The jugs were heavy even for us, let alone these tiny kids. But there they were, right next to us slipping and sliding our way up the hill to the street. By the time I made it to the top, I had fallen twice and my Chacos were caked with mud. We decided it would be easier to create an assembly line so the four of us could carry all 15 or so containers to the top without being encased in mud.
As we brought up the last of the jugs, all of the kids were at the top cheering us on. But the work didn’t stop there. Each jug had a rope tied to the top of it that was used to tie it to another jug. Once the two containers were tied together, they were thrown over the backs of the donkeys. Unfortunately, only some of the kids owned donkeys so we had to wait while they dropped the water of at their houses and then walked back. The process was impressive and long. The children had it down to a science which left little room for us to help.
When the work was done, most of the kids stayed back to play with us. We sang songs, took pictures, and rode donkeys with them which made the 3 hours pass by quickly. During this time, many others came to the well to fill their giant yellow jugs for the day. It was mostly women who came and hauled their water away on their backs as if they were carrying a child.
Due to the fact that this well is the only clean water for miles, people come from all over to fill their containers for daily use. Seeing this, I was reminded of the famous biblical story found in the New Testament, The Woman at the Well. I began wondering just how far away her town was. How big was the bucket she carried? What was it like to find someone else at the well around the time she went?
I then realized how big of a role myself and my three friends were playing. We weren’t just entertaining kids and hauling jugs of water up a hill. We were bringing the love of Jesus back to one of His original ministry sites. God was using us to make the unseen feel seen, to encourage the discouraged, and to bring joy to the joyless.
Although we went into the day tired and unenthusiastic, God turned it into one of my favorite ministries yet, the ministry I like to call, The Women at the Well.
