Weekly Devotional
by Pauli Hubbard

It seems like only yesterday that I met the Jewish man named Jesus. I shake my head in amazement... me... not the most stellar character becoming a door to my people; but I am getting ahead of myself. Let me tell you my story.

Whew! These jars get heavier and heavier and I haven’t even got them filled yet, I thought. Where are those men when I really need them?! I know, they’ve run home to their wives and left me with nothing but these heavy jars! I looked ahead at the well, it shimmered in the heat... so very hot; nobody ever came to draw water at this time of day...just me. No girlfriends to share the latest gossip in the cool of the early morning, just me. I looked again, hmmm, there was a man sitting by the well. Bet he is going to ask me for a drink, I grumbled to myself. I am so tired of all this.

Sure enough as I placed my clay jars by the entrance of the well, he did ask me for a drink of water. “So, where’s your bucket to draw the water”, I said quite defiantly.
He looked up at me and said the strangest thing...”if you knew who I was, you would ask me for a drink of living water.”
“Living water? What are you talking about?” This guy looked sane, but he must be crazy! Living water? 
“What are you talking about.” I said. 
Again that look he gave me...not like the men I knew.

“Everyone who drinks this water will get thirsty again and again. Anyone who drinks the water I give will never thirst—not ever. The water I give will be an artesian spring within, gushing fountains of endless life."

“Give me some of that living water” (in my head I’m thinking, I am so tired of these clay jars!

What was going on here? What was he up to, this Jewish man? Didn’t he know this was not his country or well? I must say I got an attitude and started throwing out objections to his bizarre words.

“Do you know how important this well is in our history?" I said.
“You do know that we worship God on the mountain” (not that I ever made that trip). 

Calmly he said, 
"God is spirit and those who are simply and honestly themselves before him in their worship. Those who worship him must do it out of their very being, their spirits, their true selves, in adoration."
My last attempt of defending my position.... "well," I said... "when the Messiah comes..."
He looked at me with those gentle but piercing eyes and said... "I am."

I felt emotionally pushed against a wall. 

Then he said, 
“Woman, go get your husband.”
I gulped, “sir, I don’t have a husband...”

And then he laid my life out in front of me. There was no denying, this man was the Messiah...he told me my life story and the only thing I could do was drop my clay jar and run into the town and literally drag the men of the town back to the well. They needed to hear this man! He told me my story with compassion!

What a day!
A memory and changed life which continues. 
He left us that day and I heard his own leaders forced his death. But for us in our little town, we still believe to this day...our Messiah. 

How about you?