Just a well

Saturday morning and we were at our mall. It’s “ours” by virtue of being the closest one. “Ours” because for one corner or another of it, we’re there weekly. Last-minute flowers or cards at Metro. Gift wrap and bandaids and razors at dollarama. Late library books at the library. A kid’s new bank account at Scotiabank. Takeout from our favorite pho restaurant. Our errands run on foot in a small, simple, indoor space that becomes the only public space when the weather is too cold to stay outside long. It’s a Toronto staple and we’ve unconsciously adjusted to this rhythm of life within walking distance of our home. 

Today my older girls and I were sitting and munching on treats from a tiny bakery that has a meal deal for five dollars. We were on a bench facing the center of the mall, idly watching people line up for the popular dine-in Dim Sum restaurant that we’ve never had the patience to wait for a seat in. I was half listening to my girls talk and half studying my textbook on my kindle. I had a quiz coming up and my Phonetics class had not been intuitive. And an elderly man walks up to me…to tell me his life story. 

I am not sure why this happens, or if it happens to others, but here I was, just sitting, and he walked up to share when, how, and why he moved back to China and took a job traveling across the mainland when he was originally from Hong Kong and no one wanted to work on the mainland back in those days. He outlined his decision process and how much time he took to make it. 

Halfway through his story, Elise taps my arm and says, “Mom, the library.” I apologized and stood up, sad he didn’t get to the part where he met his wife and (I presume) moved back to Canada. “Thank you for chatting.” He seemed thrilled to have told me half his story. I was a tad bewildered why he did. 

And I thought…being in a public space on a Saturday morning. What better way to share the gospel? I thought of how simple it would have been to tell him about the Lord. He would have been happy to listen. In fact, I would not have been surprised to find he was already a believer. Who knows. But would a 5-dollar meal deal and a weekly or biweekly habit of showing up make a difference? It likely would. I thought about the school I now have the responsibility to run and all the people that sit around visiting before class and during breaks. I thought of the public spaces that I have access to and belong in as much as my neighbors. And I realized that in Detroit, I could witness on my porch, but in Toronto, my “porch” is a bench in a tiny mall surrounded by my daily errands. Or a shared lunch hour with my students. 

And you likely do too — a public space you belong in. A park, a playground, a sidewalk with your dog, a community center, or MOPS group. A place you belong by virtue of where you live or the life stage you are in. For my single friend, hers is a square dancing group. For Joel, it's a patties vendor with coworkers deep in “the Path” — an underground mall connecting the downtown core. For my mom friend, it's the parents waiting area in a gymnastics gym tucked into an industrial park. For me, an English school and a local mall. Where is your public space? Where do people pause, rest, sit down, wait, or have a snack? These are our modern day “wells” where the world meets, the outcasts hover, the sighs are heaved. These are the quiet (or not so quiet) places when time slows a bit and we need to be still to wait for something or someone or to finish eating. Where do people move slowly in your world? 

I’m asking God to show me these slow places. Places when the wounds and decisions and burdens of life catch up and someone needs a compassionate listener to be there in that precious moment to hear. I’m praying you find your “well.” A surprising place where you could just “happen” to be at the right place at the right time!to listen. And, likely, to share what God has done in your life — lifting that bushel and letting your light shine.  

“So he came to a town in Samaria called Sychar, near the plot of ground Jacob had given to his son Joseph. Jacob’s well was there, and Jesus, tired as he was from the journey, sat down by the well. It was about noon. When a Samaritan woman came to draw water, Jesus said to her, ‘Will you give me a drink?” (John 4:5-7).