My Acne and Faith Journey Part 3: The Meeting at the Well

A Hidden Seed

How could I still be the same when I had all the evidence and reason to live for God?

I was still the same girl who slept for hours and was only awake for her studies and extracurricular because she needed to hide and temporarily forget that her acne was hurting her.

I was still the same girl who spent very limited time with her then boyfriend and very few friends, whom she believed loved her despite her acne, because she was scared of opening her heart to them for fear they might not understand, or worse, they might turn against her.

I was still the same girl whose happiness depended on how her skin looked.

Still the same girl who easily relapsed to her miserable, insecure self whenever her acne flared up.

Although I tried to live differently, still, I was in a black hole, always at the boundary of no escape.

I cried out to God and remembered one of Jesus’ parables, the Parable of the Growing Seed.

I prayed…

“Lord, I am like this seed. I am hidden, and I don’t show any signs of growth. But please take notice of me. I want to grow and bear fruit.”

An Invitation

A few days before my graduation in 2012, I received the good news that I qualified for awards.

Finally, I got what I worked for.

But the day I should have celebrated was the day I had one unusually big spot on my left cheek.

I stayed in the student publication office so not many people could see me.

I tried desperately to collect my composure. But I was overcome with my bottled-up anger and frustration.

Two staff members came in and were surprised to see me hunched over a desk, bursting in tears.

They tried to comfort me, but I refused to speak to them. I didn’t want them to see my acne.

That heavy feeling dragged on until graduation day.

Though the swelling on my left cheek subsided, smaller chin breakouts popped up.

I didn’t feel pretty on one of my life’s milestones.

Several days later, a staff writer told me that the pastor’s wife wanted to catch up with me.

She invited me before to a Bible study where I met the pastor’s wife who also ministers as a co-pastor.

I stopped showing up because of my studies and extracurricular.

But if I didn’t have acne, I would be more spontaneous and carefree in meeting new people.

The other year, I went to a Bible study with students from different colleges.

It was a new experience I enjoyed.

When they sent out new invitations, I declined because my chin was breaking out badly. Sadly, I never heard again from them.

So, the thought of reconnecting brought a sense of curiosity and anticipation.

Why would she still want to meet me when I haven’t been showing up to the Bible studies for months? She barely knew me.

Surrendering Acne Struggles to God

I came to see the pastor’s wife at the college where she teaches. She welcomed me into her classroom with a big smile.

When the last student got up and handed in his work, she turned to me and we had a little chit-chat.

She asked me if I would like to have a Bible study with her. I did expect it, that’s why I brought my hardly-ever-read Bible.

She told me to turn it to John 4:1-30.

After we read the entire passage, she explained to me the historical background of Samaria.

After King Solomon’s reign, Israel was divided into two.

The northern kingdom was called Israel, and the southern kingdom was called Judah.

The centuries-old feud created a deep-rooted dislike. Jews would avoid traveling through Samaria, though it was the shortest route from Judea to Galilee.

Then, she asked, “If you are to draw water by the well, what time would you do it?”

“When it’s not hot.”

“But she came to draw water at the sixth hour. That’s noon. Why do you think she had to do this at the hottest time of the day?”

I remember we read somewhere about the woman’s private life whom Jesus was supernaturally aware of.

I ran my fingers on the page until I found it.

“Because she had had five husbands and is not even married to the man she’s living with,” I responded.

“People looked down on her,” I continued.

“And yet Jesus talks to her and even asks for a drink,” she pointed out.

“In those days, a Jew, especially a Rabbi or a teacher of the Jewish law, did not talk to women. This woman at the well was a Samaritan and had a questionable marital history, but Jesus had to pass through Samaria and come to Sychar to meet her.”

“Jesus wants to meet you too,” she added.

It was a reassuring statement to hear but difficult to accept.

How come Jesus still wants to meet me when I had not changed?

“Jesus offers the Samaritan woman the living water that will become a ‘fountain of water springing up to eternal life,” she said (John 3:14).

And then it became clear to me. This Samaritan woman, was, surprisingly, a reflection of me.

We were both thirsty.

And we both drew water from the same well.

She lowered her bucket every day to fill her longings for intimacy.

I always worked hard to quench my thirst for worth and approval.

She wanted intimacy so bad that even though her previous marriages did not work out, she still lived with a man she wasn’t married to.

I wanted my self-worth so bad that I pursued things that would decorate me with some value although I knew I was already exhausted working for them.

But I knew no other way to refresh and satisfy my soul.

So, I went to the familiar well more and strained harder because maybe, I just didn’t try as much as I should.

“What do you think is the difference between a well and a fountain?” she asked.

I said, “The water’s stagnant in a well. But the fountain just flows with water.”

“The Samaritan woman thinks of the living water in a literal sense. In their times, a spring was called living water. But Jesus speaks of a different fountain, one that gives eternal life.”

Then, she made an analogy, “To draw water from the well, you have to exert effort. But to drink from a fountain, you just have to cup your hands, open your mouth, and take in the refreshing waters like a gift.”

“Likewise, eternal life is not earned through works. Eternal life is a gift from God through Jesus.”

She continued, “In verse 19, the Samaritan woman switches the subject to the place of worship.

“Samaritans and Jews did not agree on where worship must take place.

“For Samaritans, it’s Mount Gerizim. For Jews, Jerusalem.

“But Jesus simply tells her that it doesn’t matter because God seeks worshipers who worship in spirit and truth.”

The pastor’s wife continued, “Then, Jesus reveals Himself as the Messiah…the Anointed One, the Savior King.

“The one the Samaritan woman has longed to come to explain to her things she doesn’t grasp.

“She rushes out to meet the crowd who despises her, announcing that a man, who knows everything she has done, must be the Messiah.”

At the close of the study, the pastor’s wife asked if she could pray for me.

She asked Jesus to give me freedom. To be free just like the Samaritan woman.

And I groaned in my heart.

God, I need freedom. You know how my acne and my insecurities have made me a prison of my own head. 

I went back home and decided to read the passage again.

A particular verse struck me:

So the woman left her waterpot and went into the city.

John 4:28

The Samaritan woman left her jar. It was the very first thing the woman did before she headed to the city to testify of Jesus.

She decided to unload her burden.

From that day on, the Samaritan woman has become my favorite Bible character. I see her story as my own: how isolated I felt because of my acne.

Because my acne wasn’t severe, I couldn’t confide in anyone about the pain and anxiety I experienced. I feared being laughed at and judged.

But Jesus insisted on having an appointment with me though I was hiding.

Jesus did not attach stigma to my acne and to my experience. He simply met me.

I desired to hear more of His words again.

So, I attended Bible study and worship service more often. But I had conflicting thoughts and feelings, especially whenever I broke out.

I was so torn between going out and hiding.

In college, I either pretend to be sick and skip class, or attend anyway but dodge social interaction as much as I could.

Neither of those options would work now because if I missed church, I wouldn’t learn more about Jesus. I would encourage myself by contemplating John 4.

Jesus broke all the cultural and religious barriers to meet the Samaritan woman.

Could I take a leap of faith and overcome the barriers that stop me? 

This thought didn’t completely quell my uneasiness.

But mulling over this was what got me out of the house, and go, and pursue Jesus.

A Call to Pilgrimage

One day, my mom insisted I hear the mass with her.

My parents were displeased that I was attending a “born-again” church and that I was leaving our religious tradition¹.

My then boyfriend also expressed the same concern.

The conflict wasn’t only inward anymore. There were now outward voices pulling me in the other direction.

And that left me even more perplexed because I thought I was chasing a noble thing for my soul, but my loved ones met it with resistance.

I didn’t want to go with my mom, but I conceded.

As we approached the pews, my eyes scanned the finely adorned altar and finally focused my gaze on the sculpture of a crucified Christ.

I knelt down on the pew and spoke to my unsettled heart, “I am not praying to the image. I am praying to the God of heaven.”

I couldn’t string coherent thoughts in my prayer as I wrestled with confusion.

“Trust me. You do not trust me enough.”

I was stunned. Did God just speak to me?

It sounded like a piercing reprimand. But strangely, it inspired certainty and peace in my heart.

It was as if that voice breathed into me the conviction I needed to continue seeking God.

It was the first time, and perhaps the last time, that I would hear God’s audible voice in this side of heaven.

It was such a great thing my religious roots introduced me to the Savior on the cross.

But I had to take on the pilgrimage of knowing Him and trusting Him if I wanted Him to be so real to me, like how Brother Yun and the other persecuted believers treasure Jesus more than their own lives.

[1] Although the Philippines is one of the two Asians nations with Roman Catholicism as its major religion, many Filipino Catholics practice Folk Catholicism or Christianized Animism. It is the merging of Christian symbols and beliefs with animism and superstitions. Church leaders do not endorse this as part of the official Roman Catholic doctrines. Nonetheless, folk Catholicism is deeply embedded in the Filipino psyche and practices. I do believe it is possible for a Roman Catholic to have a saving faith in Christ and be a born-again believer. As John Piper puts it, “It is possible for a person’s heart and his essential grasp of Christ to be far better than the structures of his doctrinal framework. We may all be very, very thankful for this.” However, the religious environment I grew up in made it difficult for me to access and understand the gospel and have a personal, genuine relationship with Christ.