Yesterday morning, I sat with a woman at a well (John 4) for over an hour, waiting for something “profound” to write. I finally decided that sitting in the silence was enough, especially with Jesus there with us.
This morning, I’m still there. As an aside, this is one of my most favorite stories in the Bible (although I say that often). Today, though, one little sentence has caught my attention: “You have nothing to draw with…”
The Samaritan woman has come to the well for water. She’s prepared. It’s a daily part of her routine. Until she meets Jesus. There they are, together, looking at the well. She knows what she needs. Water. She knows where to find it. The well. When Jesus asks her for a drink, that’s something she can do.
But then Jesus turns the tables. After asking her for a drink of well water, Jesus offers her living water. She’s confused. She only knows one kind of water. The kind down in the well. And Jesus doesn’t have a bucket.
She knows what he lacks. It seems so obvious. How can he offer her water when he doesn’t have what he needs to get it for himself, let alone her?
But then, Jesus explains. This woman now understands that Jesus is offering something very different from well water. He’s offering her a shift from thinking of life as mere physical survival to thinking about spiritual wellness and satisfaction. He’s offering her a shift from focusing on seemingly endless stale, lonely days to focusing on an eternal life filled with joy and peace.
And all she can see in the moment is the lack of a bucket.
I understand that. I go through days when I feel like I have nothing to draw with and nowhere to draw from. I suspect you do as well.
Some days it’s physical. I don’t have the energy I think I need to make it through the day. Some days it’s emotional. I don’t have the patience, the resilience, or the strength to deal with one more thing. And some days it’s spiritual. I don’t have the faith I wish I had. I don’t have the words to pray. I don’t have the answers. I don’t even seem to have enough hope to draw from the well.
And so I stare at the well. I look at what I need. I look at what I don’t have. And my mind starts whispering. You can’t do this. You don’t have enough. You aren’t enough.
That’s where the Samaritan woman finds herself. And Jesus patiently tells her that when it comes to living water, he’s, in essence, the “bucket” offering her an endless supply. She doesn’t have to draw the water. Become stronger. Figure it out on her own.
The conversation has shifted completely. Jesus is offering what she cannot draw for herself.
And perhaps that’s the part I need to remember. Jesus knows I don’t have what I need. Jesus knows about the empty places. He knows about the tiredness. He knows about the doubts, disappointments, and fears. He knows about the days when my bucket is empty.
And his response is simply this: “I know. I’m here.”
As you think about that today, remember Jesus’s words. You don’t have to manufacture the water. You don’t have to pretend your bucket is full when it isn’t. You don’t have to convince Jesus that you’re stronger than you are.
Just sit beside the well and admit the truth: “Lord, I’m feeling a little empty today.” “Lord, I’m a little afraid or depressed or lonely today.” “Lord, I need a little extra of your living water today.”
With the Samaritan woman, we can stop staring at the well and worrying about what we don’t have, and instead look at Jesus. The One who gives living water. The One who is our strength. The One who offers hope.
For today, that’s more than enough, don’t you think?
