While riding my bike in a neighboring town, I observed an older woman carrying a half dozen 5 liter jugs down a path. She was filling them with water from the municipal well. Judging from the number of jugs in her cart, she would make five or six trips down that path that day before returning home.
Yesterday I found the old municipal well in our small city. As I walked back to our apartment, I thanked God that we don’t have to go the well and then carry back our family’s water each day. (We did that for a few months in Panama when our well went dry and it was time consuming and not much fun.) My mind also drifted to an encounter between Jesus and woman at a well. She was thirsty in every way and Jesus offered her living water to quench her thirsty soul. As I walked back to our apartment from the municipal well, I looked at people a little differently. I saw pain and lostness in their eyes. I saw tired women and drunk men. I saw people with running water in their homes but unquenched thirst in their souls. I saw a vivid reminder of why God has allowed me to come to Portugal.