What happened next?
We’ve watched Jesus go through enemy territory to meet and talk with her—this ‘Woman at the Well.’ We’ve peeked into her past—the before of her encounter with Him. But her story doesn’t stop there.
“Then the woman left her water jar…” (John 4:28).
Such a small detail John was prompted to include. Perhaps in the woman’s haste or excitement, she simply forgot to take the jar. Or maybe she left it for Jesus to sip from as He rested from the day’s travel. Or perhaps she knew she’d be returning soon.
It may seem odd that she didn’t take it. After all, she had carried the empty vessel, day after day, filling it with water. Water that, as she walked back to town, would spill to the ground, disappearing into dry earth. Water for drinking that couldn’t quench a heart’s thirst. Water for washing that couldn’t really cleanse.
But on this day at the well, she’d received the Water she’d truly needed.
I’ve wondered if the jar might signify what’s no longer meant to be carried. Imagining it propped there in the sun causes me to ask: What is Jesus encouraging me to leave at the well?
Words from Corrie ten Boom come to mind:
“I have learned to hold all things loosely, so God will not have to pry them out of my hands.”
What might you and I be holding onto? What might God be inviting us to release, so that we might travel lighter, with hands freed up to receive what He wants to place there?
It's certainly not an easy thing—this surrendering of what we, with hands clenched, hold so tight. But God knows, and gives such grace.
So for those of us who may be hanging onto what we’re no longer meant to carry, may we hear His gentle whisper: “My child, my Beloved, you can let go, and leave it with Me.”
- - -
“Then the woman…went into town…” (28)
At the well, she had exchanged old garments for new. I wonder what it was like as she turned to go—what it looked like as she journeyed back to town. I suspect this day looked different—that she looked different. We might imagine her, not walking with head down, weighed down, but running, with hope anew, dancing and praising as she throws off layers of labels she’s worn for so long. As she enters town there’s a sense something has changed. Somewhere along the dusty road, she must have shed her shame.
May you and I, too, be able to throw off those old clothes we’ve worn. Lies we’ve believed. Labels we’ve given ourselves or been given by others.
May we know we are seen, wonderfully created, labeled as “loved.”
- - -
“…[she] told the people, ‘Come, see a man who told me everything I ever did. Could this be the Messiah?’” (28,29)
“Come, see.” Such a simple yet powerful message, from the tongue of this unlikely evangelist. She’s got a new story to tell. In her culture and time in history, women—especially with her kind of past—wouldn’t have been speaking in public. Yet she seemed compelled to tell others about the Man who knew every messy detail of her life, had washed her clean and quenched her longing.
The townspeople knew her history. As they heard her testify, they saw the change. Something amazing had happened, indeed! Next verses tell us that her words sent them walking (running, maybe) to the well. No water jars needed for this trip!
And there, at the well, was Jesus—waiting for them, too.
He would then travel into the Samarian town and remain for two days, where many more would see, believe, and receive Living Water— the Savior of the world (vv. 30,39-41).
You and I might feel we’re not eloquent. But may we be reminded of the presence and power of the One who fashioned us and formed our mouths. May we be unafraid to say “Come, see.”
- - -
This Samaritan woman’s ‘rest of the story’ tells us that, as God’s Beloved, we’re free to release what we’re not meant to carry and throw off what we’re not meant to wear. We’re reminded it’s often the least likely who are chosen to carry His plan forward—that our past does not thwart His plan and purpose, but in fact can be used by Him to draw others to the well, where they can receive Water that lasts.
- - -
What extraordinary treasures we find as we crack open these pages. Tucked within John chapter 4 is, what I think, one of the most beautiful Love stories of all time. A story that is, perhaps, the essence of the gospel.
Hallelujah!
He has come!
We wander,
lost and longing.
He pursues.
We encounter,
receive,
and follow.
Forever changed,
filled with hope,
we go,
carrying His name,
and His love,
to a thirsty world.
“Then the woman left her water jar, went into town, and told the people, ‘Come, see a man who told me everything I ever did. Could this be the Messiah?’”
(John 4:28,29 HCSB)
