Sir, You Have Nothing

 

 

First, see the contradiction

Expressed in the theme:

There is Sir follow by nothing

What could this mean?

 

To be addressed as Sir

And then said to have nothing

Must be a contradiction

And one quite puzzling.

 

Unless of course

There is much more to follow,

Something preceding the substance

More like the shadow.

 

 

A misunderstanding, perhaps,

On the part of the speaker

Of whom we eventually discover

Is really the seeker.

 

“Nothing to dip with, Sir,

And the well is deep.

From where did you get water?”

Now the Saviour speaks.

 

“The water I shall give you

Will within you spring up

And you will not never need to dip it

With a jar or bucket or cup.”

 

Whether she clearly understood

Up to now I cannot tell

But the fact she recognized Jesus

I believe she did very well.

 

Off to the village she went

To tell one and all

That she had met the Christ

And on her he had called.

 

 

Jesus gave her water

That was not from the well:

An eternal spring of living water

And she could not help but tell.

 

He who had nothing to dip with

Gave her everything she needed

And unlike our everyday leaders

At no time had she pleaded.

 

“Sir, you have nothing”

Must be seen in another way:

It’s the plight of every one

That does not have Jesus today.

 

The water he will give you

Will quench your every thirst,

That is the promise he gives

To all who put him first.

 

Like that woman at the well

If you would take him at his word,

Your cup would so continually overflow

You’d want to tell the world.

 

If you have found the Saviour

Don’t keep him to yourself,

Tell your friends and your neighbours

He offers spiritual health.

 

Stewart Russell © September 25, 2020

 

Water, the Real Winner

“Water, water, water,” his voice faded away as if all of his strength had gone.

Mark had been running for a long time and at a fierce rate.  He had been punishing himself in an all out attempt to win the school’s cross country marathon.  He was not far from the finish line; only another hundred metres, but he had collapsed from exhaustion and thirst.  He had pushed himself too hard.

“Somebody get some water quickly before he passes out,” shouted a spectator.

“From where?” inquired another.  “There are no houses around here.”

“But we need water and we need it fast,” insisted yet another spectator.  They had assembled along the route to witness this annual event.  Yet, not one of them had any water and Mark was in serious trouble.

He muttered again, “Water, water, please give me water.”  His voice was barely audible.

By this time the first runner came in sight.  It was almost five minutes since Mark had collapsed.  He was way ahead of the nearest competitor yet here he was lying on the ground, unable to convert this lead into triumph.  His main problem, however, was not winning the race but getting water.  For the third time he mouthed, “Water, water.”  This time he could only form the words.  There was no sound coming from his lips.

The first runner came nearer and nearer.  “Shawn is getting closer!” shouted a spectator.  “No way Mark can win this race now.  I always knew he didn’t have a chance.  My money was always on Shawn.  This would be his third year as champion.”

“How could you be thinking of the race at this time, you insensitive idiot?” responded one of the spectators who was now fanning Mark in an attempt to revive him.

Shawn arrived at the scene and stopped.  “What’s happening here?” he asked. 

“It’s Mark.  He has collapsed from exhaustion.  He called for water but we don’t have any and as you can see, there are no houses around.”

“Don’t worry,” replied Shawn. “I still have a little with me.  I always run with my water.  Here, let me get through to him.” 

In three minutes Mark was on his feet and ready to run again.  “Come on, Mark. Let’s go.  We still have a race to finish and I can see our nearest rival in the distance.  He’s catching up quickly.” 

Mark stumbled over the finish line, with Shawn giving him just a little push.  “Congrats,” said Shawn.  “You deserve to win, Mark.” 

“Thanks,” replied Mark.  “I couldn’t have done it without your water and your push.”

They both laughed and then watched as the other competitors made their way to the finish line.  They fought for the bronze but everybody knew who had won the gold and silver. 

The announcer’s voiced boomed with the aid of the microphone.  “Here are the results of the school’s annual cross country marathon.  In third position, Henderson Skeete, in second position, Shawn Spencer and the gold goes to Mark Small.” 

If you ask him now, Mark would still tell you that the real winner was water. 

  

Stewart Russell © 1999