A Hidden Wellspring

During a trip to Missouri, our hostess at a bed and breakfast pulled back an old plywood board and showed us the old, deep well hiding underneath. Rough stones had been carefully arranged into stunningly smooth walls that ran deep into the ground. The moist soil glistened in the tiny glints of sunlight that reached its depths.

It wasn’t until I looked back at the photographs that I began to appreciate the level of craftsmanship that had been invested in that well. Instead of slapping stones this way and that, the man who made this well had carefully selected each stone and put it in its place.

In the end, because of his meticulousness, a project of necessity had become an object of beauty.

Isn’t that like life–on our best days?

At times we take on our duties with a grimace and try to dispose of them in as little time as possible. As we finish, we sigh with relief and rush on to the next duty to mark off our list.

But on those special days, those days when we see that the task in front of us is an opportunity to invest ourselves in something with larger import than the passing moment, our perspective changes.

We still realize the necessity that’s driving us on (after all, everyone needs water), but instead of throwing this chunk of frustration here and that slab of opposition there, we see the larger purpose in what we’re doing. Not only are we acquiring the material things we need to sustain our life; we’re also creating beauty with our hands and our minds.

What a double gift that wellmaker gave.