Today, before I talk about The Woman at the Well in Samaria I want to talk about The Man in the Maine Woods.
Back in the late 1980’s a twenty year old man named walked off the job one day. He left his tools behind, got in his car and started driving. He had always been a bit of a loner – keeping mostly to himself in high school. People would later say that he had been quiet but polite and well mannered. Beyond his tendency to keep mostly to himself there was nothing particularly extraordinary about him … nothing that would have predicted how he would navigate the next 30 years of his life.
He didn’t take much with him the day he left work for good. Beyond the clothes on his back and what he had in his wallet he didn’t have much in the way of supplies. Nevertheless, he somehow made his way slowly south – taking the backroads from his small home town in Central Maine all the way to Florida.
Once he was in Florida all he did was simply turn around and head back the way he came.
When he reached his hometown in Maine he drove straight through it. He didn’t even stop at his house to visit his mother and brother. He drove into the woods and kept right on driving until the road stopped, the woods grew thick, and he simply couldn’t drive any further. Leaving the keys in the car, he got out and entered the heavily-boulder-strewn-densely-wooded area.