The Woman at the Well

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The Woman at the Well

Dear Kids,

John 4:39. “From that city many of the Samaritans believed in Him because of the word of the woman…”
 
The knot tightened in her stomach as it did every day when noon approached.  After furtively glancing out the window, she hoisted the water jug onto her shoulder and began the hot trek through town to the community well.
As she approached the familiar site the knot squeezed even tighter. “Oh, great!” she thought anxiously, “There’s a strange man resting by the well. What am I going to do now?” Galvanizing her resolve, she cautiously stepped forward, “Ok, it’s too late to turn back, so just draw the water quickly and make a fast exit. He looks exhausted, so maybe he won’t even notice I’m here.”

 
Taking a deep breath, she focused her attention on her approach to the well. To her great surprise, the man spoke, “Give me a drink.” Briefly looking around to see if someone else had arrived at the water source and seeing no one, she answered, “How is it that You, being a Jew, ask me for a drink since I am a Samaritan woman?” (She knew all too well that Jews never had dealings with Samaritans.) His reply startled and amazed her. “If you knew the gift of God, and who it is who says to you, ‘Give Me a drink,’ you would have asked Him, and He would have given you living water.”
 
Her eyes narrowed with suspicion as she pointed out that He had no bucket with which to draw water from the deep well. “Where do you get this living water you speak of? Are you greater than our father, Jacob, who gave us this well and drank of it himself along with his sons and cattle?”
 
The man’s answer surprised and confused her greatly, “Everyone who drinks of this water will thirst again; but whoever drinks of the water that I give him shall never thirst; but the water that I will give him will become in him a well of water springing up to eternal life.”
 
Her mind raced with the possibilities, “If I can secure this special water I may never have to visit this well again. Never again will I need to face the degrading looks or endure the hushed whispers of the other more upright men and women of this town.” “Sir, give me this water, so I will not be thirsty nor come all the way here to draw.”
 
Her short-lived excitement dissipated at his next request, “Go, call your husband and come here.” Her eyes widened at His reply to her feeble excuse that she had no husband. “You are right in what you say for you have had five husbands, and the one whom you now have is not your husband.”
 
Thinking fast she tried to redeem the conversation that had begun to spiral out of her control. She reached back into the recesses of her mind to bring up anything that would sound spiritual. But the man answered every one of her attempts with words that were wise and yet compassionate. Finally, in her confusion she stated her only hope, “I know that Messiah is coming (the One they call Christ); when that One comes, He will explain all these things.” Her heart skipped a beat as the import of His next words sank deep into her broken soul, “I Who speak to you am He.”
 
With tears filling her eyes, she abandoned her water pot and ran the distance to town. Her mind raced with overwhelming thoughts. “This man, the Messiah, spoke to me, of all people. No one has even given me the time of day and yet He, knowing all my brokenness, still cared enough to offer what I thought I could never have – eternal life! I must tell everyone to come meet Him!”
 
A changed woman reentered the town square that day and everyone took notice. Her testimony of all she had heard and seen piqued curiosity. The townspeople came to the well to meet this One she told of and many believed  in Him, not only because of her word, but because they heard for themselves.
May we see each person we meet with the eyes of Jesus: for those despised by the world are desired by God.

Love,

Mama

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Hi, I'm Sandy! 

I write inspirational letters based on the Bible that share words of hope, encouragement, truth, and healing to my children and anyone else who longs for a mama's touch.

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