When the Well Was Always There

“Then God opened her eyes, and she saw a well of water.” —Genesis 21:19

I often find myself returning to the story of Hagar—rejected, abandoned, hopeless, and ready to die. And yet, there it was: the well. A well that had always been there. So the question remains—why didn’t she see it?

Was it hidden from her? Or was she blinded by what she carried inside—anger, bitterness, hatred, pride? I want to put it to us that these internal storms often blur our vision, distorting our ability to see what God has already provided.

Could it be that Hagar was angry with Abraham and Sarah? Could she have felt used and discarded, filled with bitterness so deep that it clouded her reason and shut down her hope? In such a state, even water—life—was invisible. All she could see was death.

I look back on seasons of my life and realize how I, too, was blinded. Opportunities, solutions, blessings—they were right in front of me. But I couldn't see them because my eyes were clouded by pain, my vision distorted by pride, resentment, and frustration. The well was there... but I wasn’t still enough to see it.

“Be still and know that I am God.” —Psalm 46:10

Stillness reveals. Stillness aligns our hearts with God's. Stillness creates room for peace, and with peace comes clarity. Jesus said, “Peace I leave with you; My peace I give you. Not as the world gives do I give to you.” (John 14:27). I now understand how essential that peace is. When God's peace governs our hearts, we begin to see again. We begin to hear. We begin to receive.

The angel Gabriel greeted Mary with, “Peace be with you.” Those were not just words of comfort, but keys to reception. The peace that flooded Mary’s heart opened her up to ask probing questions, not prideful ones. She didn’t resist; she inquired with humility, and she received divine clarity.

Contrast that with Zechariah. The same angel brought him a message earlier that year—a promise of a child. But instead of believing, he doubted. I imagine that bitterness, disappointment, or even spiritual fatigue may have dulled his faith. And though the promise was still fulfilled, I wonder if he was robbed of fully enjoying that miracle in the way Elizabeth did.

I now see in my own journey times when I was so miserable, so full of resistance, that I couldn’t participate in God’s goodness. I couldn’t rejoice in it. I was quick to complain, challenge, criticize—even condemn the very people God placed in my life for my good.

Don't get me wrong—people can be cruel. Some situations do feel like hell on earth. But even in those moments, when your spirit is sober and your soul anchored in God’s peace, you will see the solution. You will see the well. Because it's not about the absence of trouble; it’s about the presence of clarity, peace, and faith in the One who cares for your whole being.

God wants you well. Not just physically. All of you.

By Nathlee R. Grant