The traveler strode across the desert sands; the heat of the sun burning through the thin fabric draped around his body. Ignoring the grit of dirt in his mouth, the Rabbi considered His divine assignment.
Ah, yes. The woman.
While Samaria was the most direct route to Galilee, many Jews avoided the area by heading into the Jordan Valley. After all, the land was polluted with the unclean. People of a mixed ethnic group. People who worshipped differently. People devoid of the Law. People like the woman.
Determined, Jesus continued into the heart of the unclean land. Perhaps he paused briefly to pray. Or, Christ’s pace might have quickened as he anticipated a life-altering conversation. Settling wearily on the rim of Jacob’s ancient well, Jesus licked parched lips. A Samaritan woman, approaching the well, shifted her gaze when she noticed the man.
“Will you give me a drink?” he asked, indicating the clay jar in her arms.
“You are a Jew and I am a Samaritan woman.”
Clinging to the safety and comfort of societal norms, the woman nearly dismissed Jesus. Didn’t he realize Jews didn’t addressed people like her? Tainted blood. Lowly gender. A girl with a past.
Still, the man persisted—his words washing over her with a promise to fill the empty spaces of her soul. A soul as dry as the insides of the clay jar she carried.
“If you knew the gift of God…whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life.” (John 4:9-13)
Oh, the beauty of Christ who loves us as we are. We may consider ourselves unlovable. Stained by our sins. Unworthy of God’s offer to be washed…filled…restored to a spirit life overflowing with his presence.
But, Jesus sees us and compassionately says, “Ah, that woman.”
He invites us, dear one, to drink deeply of his abundance.
Ever loved. Ever accepted. Ever changed.
Go ahead, Friend. Take the cup from his hand; it’s spilling over with the promise of a life lived in Him.