People are strange

I sat in Sunday school earlier this afternoon, looking around at the others in the class. I listened to the responses they gave about the lesson, and even the teacher's questions and discussion. And I thought- I'm really weird.

Today's lesson was about the encounter of the Savior and the woman at the well. What struck me today was the overall intimacy and personal nature of the exchange. This was the first time the Savior spoke of His true identity, using beautiful symbolism as well as clear statements. He spoke of His knowledge of her life, and in very gentle yet persuasive terms invited her to repent and change her life. And it struck me that this is how the Savior deals with each of us. He knows us, including the intimate and personal details of our lives. Of my life. He knows my strugglings, my desires, my frustrations, my fears, my heartache. He knows. And He wants to heal me. He carries me in His mighty hands, pierced for me. He loves me perfectly and absolutely, and is not put off by the knowledge of my weakness and frailty.

Heh. He may be the only one. Sometimes I can barely stand myself.

But as I sat there in Sunday school listening to people discuss the meaning of water, of living water, I felt very aware of how strange I am. I was feeling the words of the scriptures on such an unusual and very personal level. I could almost feel that it were me He was talking to as He sat by the well. I felt as though my own sins were no boundary between me and Him, but that He wanted to have a relationship with me, one of friendship and love and joy, one where I could trust Him with my whole soul, one where my love would be reciprocated perfectly. In spite of me.

And when I have those times of feeling so desperately alone, so foolishly misunderstood, and so strange and weak and fearful, it is He that reaches my reaching, grasping me in an embrace that is at once calming, peaceful, and redeeming. As strange as I am, I am no stranger to Him.