For To Be Known Is To Be Loved and To Be Loved Is To Be Known

I received this poem from a devotion by Heidi Smid. You can subscribe to her emails by contacting her at hlsmid@yahoo.com

Woman at the Well
I am a woman of no distinction,
Of little importance.
I am a woman of no reputation, save that which is bad.
You whisper as I pass by
And pass judgmental glances,
Though you don’t really take the time to look at me
Or even get to know me.
For to be known is to be loved, and to be loved is to be known.
And otherwise, what’s the point in doing either one of them in the first place?

I want to be known;
I want someone to look at my face
And not just see two eyes, a nose, a mouth and two ears,
But to see all that I am and could be,
All my hopes, loves and fears.
That’s too much to hope for,
to wish for, or to pray for,
so I don’t, not anymore.
Now I keep to myself, and by that I mean the pain
that keeps me in my own private jail,
The pain that has brought me here, at midday, to this well.

To ask for a drink is no big request
But to ask it of me, a woman, unclean, ashamed, used and abused.
An outcast, a failure, a disappointment, a sinner.
No drink passing from these hands to your lips could ever be refreshing, only condemning,
as I am sure you condemn me now.
But you don’t.
You are a man of no distinction — no, of the utmost importance —
A man with little reputation, at least so far.
You whisper and tell me to my face what all those glances have been about.
And you take the time to really look at me.
But you don’t need to get to know me.
For to be known is to be loved and to be loved is to be known,
And you know me! You actually know me:
All of me, and everything about me,
Every thought and sight and hair on top of my head,
Every hurt stored up, every hope, every dread,
My past, my future, all I am and could be.
You tell me everything,
you tell me, about me.

And that which is spoken by another would bring hate and condemnation,
Coming from you brings love, grace, mercy and salvation.
I have heard of One to come, who would save a wretch like me.
And here in my presence, You say
"I am He."
To be known is to be loved, and to be loved is to be known,
And I just met you, but I love you;
I don’t know you, but I want to get to.
Let me run back to town! This is way too much for just me —
There are others: brothers, sisters, lovers, haters, the good and the bad, sinners and saints,
Who should hear what you’ve told me
Who should see what you’ve shown me
Who should taste what you gave me
Who should feel how you forgave me
For to be known is to be loved and to be loved is to be known
And they all need this too;
We all do; we need it for our own.

This Bible story is found in the 4th chapter of John.

Do you ever feel like no one knows you or understands you? I do...most of the time. But this Bible story and the poem serve to remind me that Jesus knows me and that is enough.