When you were little, did your school do a grandparents day? Mine did, and I always loved it. It was always a special day where you got to have some of the most important people in your lives come to school, listen to you sing a song, have a snack, and show off your best art projects to. And I think I was probably more lucky than most kids, because I had more grandparents than the average kid. You see, both my parents’ parents are divorced and remarried before I was born, so I never knew the norm was to have only two sets of grandparents. Plus, I had two great-grandmas, so I had quite a pack to choose from.

Hey Pops, I’ve been thinking and praying a lot about wanting to really understand what it means to be the Bride of Christ. Maybe it’s because I can look on the sentiment with my own experiential sentimentality, but I want to truly realize what it is to be your bride. Because now I know in the physical what it is to be one. I know the anticipation of a wedding celebration where everyone in attendance is there to look upon and witness a love great enough to don its very best and meet at an altar to profess that love.

I think this passage in the Bible is one of the most well-known ones. Even if you’ve never gone to Sunday school, never picked up a Bible, and never had a faith of your own, chances are, you’ve heard fragments of this verse someway, somehow. Whether it’s a scripture reading at a wedding ceremony you attended or printed on some trendy home decoration at Marshall’s, 1 Corinthians 13 tends to be one of those Bible verses that crossed over into secular culture at one point or another.

I have always loved the story of Jesus and the Samaritan woman at the well. I feel like it’s one of those stories from the Bible that always gives you something new every time you study it. Mostly, it’s because the conversation is so deep and multi-faceted. The first thing to understanding this story is to know the cultural context. In Jesus’ time, the Samaritans and the Jews did not get along. The reason being is this: When the Babylonians conquered Israel, they took most of the Jews captive and brought them back to Babylon to assimilate them to their culture.

Hey Pops, I can’t help but praise you when I think back on my life. I can’t believe all the goodness you’ve poured out on me; I hold each signal of your great love for me against my heart and worship you. I didn’t deserve any of the kindness you’ve shown me. There have been so many days where I doubted that you were working; that I turned away because I was fickle and immature. There have been so many moments that I’ve doubted your will to come in and save me again and again and again.

Hey Pops, I want to be more constantly aware of you. For too long, I’ve let personal drama get in the way of consistently pursuing you. I’ve let people and situations distract me from what really matters: sitting at your feet and putting my mind on you. Forgive my short-sightedness. Forgive my selfish heart. Forgive my scattered focus and for allowing my attention to be stolen so easily.

You can be honest: Did you actually read today’s key verse, or did your eyes glaze over once you realized it was familiar? I know I do it. If I have a verse memorized, I don’t tend to read it when I recognize it. My mind automatically goes on airplane mode, thinking, “Oh, I know that. Let’s skip past this part.” Because my time is so valuable, I can’t even read a verse that I’ve become so obviously numb to, right? Because I’m so busy, I can’t reconnect with a precious scripture that is something I desperately need to hear, right?

Hey Pops, I find myself longing for you more and more these days. I know what it feels like to be so close to your side, and I miss that. Like Mary, I’ve sat at your feet and listened carefully and hungrily to your every word. I know what it’s like to live so intimately with you, so when I start to run dry, I feel it harshly.