The Well

By on May 30, 2012

GUEST POST: GENE T. ‘TOMMY’ BARNES “THE WELL”

Is there anyplace I can go to avoid your Spirit? to be out of your sight? If I climb to the sky, you’re there! If I go underground, you’re there! (Psalm 139: 7-8 MSG)

My grandfather, Daddy Buck, walked with me down the little dirt driveway behind his house just North of Silsbee, Texas, and he pointed his big hand at a little piece of partially cleared land.

“The well is just past that pile of brush,” he said, as we walked over to what appeared to be a concrete culvert standing upright about three-foot high. “It’s always had good water, but there’s a lot of trash in it that will need to be cleaned out.”

I moved the board cover from over the top, peered down into the dark hole, and confirmed someone had been using the well to discard old lumber, bricks, bottles and other debris. Daddy Buck commented again, “It’ll take some work, but I think the water is still good.”

I had been married about three months, and I had purchased a new mobile home. So, I needed an inexpensive spot to park my new house. The old home place was a perfect spot. It needed just a little clearing, Electricity was available. And with minimal effort, I would soon have water.

My dad helped me get a plan together. The first stage was to clean out all the trash and debris, dig the silt back down to the original 35 foot depth, and then contact the county agent to determine the best way to treat the refurbished water source.

After “fishing” all the trash that I could snag with a hook on a rope, Dad looked at me and said, “Okay, now you’ll have to crawl down inside and tie a rope on the rest of the stuff. You can use a bucket to dig out the silt. I’ll stay up top and dump the bucket for you.”

You may not be able to envision just how small the inside of a 36-inch pipe is. But about thirty-five foot down into the darkness, the light at the top appears to be the size of a dime.

What I remember most was the coolness of being in the well. As I dug through the muddy silt, water began to seep ever so slowly into the bottom and around my feet. I thought, “What if the rope breaks? What if something happens, and the hole caves in? Is dad still up top?”

My comfort came through that small hole of light at the top of the well, where each time I looked up, I saw my dad’s face peering down into the darkness. I knew he was my father, and he loved me. He had confidence that he had instructed me very well. And it didn’t matter how far down I had gone, he was always right there looking over me and offering those occasional words of encouragement.

Dad proved to be a great example of our Heavenly Father. The task may difficult. Or we may even find ourselves in a pit of our own choosing. But, you can be assured that we are secure in His watch-care.

Gene T. ‘Tommy’ Barnes, is a retired Safety Professional with ExxonMobil. He addresses topics about his faith as viewed through work, family, and hobbies. Tommy and his wife, Penny, live in Southeast Texas, and they have three married daughters and five grandchildren.

What special memories came to your mind as you read this story?

 

 

 

 

 

Originally posted on BLESSED Legacy Stories.

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The Well