“Give Me a Drink.” (John 4:7)

Part 1: Meeting at the Well — A Thirst Beyond Water

The story begins with Jesus, tired from His journey, sitting by Jacob’s well around noon. A Samaritan woman comes to draw water, and Jesus asks her, “Give me a drink.” This simple request breaks cultural boundaries and surprises everyone involved. Why? Because Jews and Samaritans didn’t mix—and men usually didn’t speak publicly to women like this. Yet here He is, asking for a drink, inviting a conversation that would change everything.

“Give Me a Drink.” (John 4:7)
When God Sits at Your Well

Have you ever had a conversation that started about one thing—but by the time it was over, your whole worldview had been rearranged?

That’s what happened to the Samaritan woman in John 4. She came to the well looking for water, like she had countless times before. Same old jar. Same old routine. Same time of day. Same reason to avoid the crowd. But this time, someone was sitting there.

And He was thirsty.

Let’s pause here for a moment—God asked a woman for a drink. That’s not just polite conversation. That’s theology in motion.

Now, this isn’t your average water break. Jesus, tired from His journey, sits down in the middle of Samaritan territory—a place good Jews usually avoided like an expired milk carton. But verse 4 says something telling:

“But He had to go through Samaria.” (John 4:4)

Had to? Geographically, not really. Spiritually? Absolutely. There was a woman with a broken past and a dry soul, and Jesus—Living Water in sandals—was on a mission. Not to condemn her. Not to shame her. But to meet her right where she was, and offer what no one else could: eternal refreshment.

A Dry Soul Meets Divine Thirst

“Give me a drink.” (John 4:7)

It’s a simple sentence. But behind it is a deep truth: God initiates relationship. Even when we don’t recognize Him. Even when we’re avoiding people. Even when our past is complicated.

Imagine the scene: She’s walking to the well at high noon—when the sun is unforgiving and the town gossip is sleeping. She’s likely tired of whispers and side-eyes. And there’s Jesus, just sitting there, like He’d been waiting all along.

You can almost hear her thoughts: “Great. A Jewish man. Here to judge me, probably.”

Instead, He surprises her: “Give me a drink.”

It wasn’t a demand—it was an invitation.

Analogy: The Water Cooler Conversation That Changes Everything

You know how in an office break room, someone always seems to spill more than coffee? You show up for a cup of water and end up learning about someone’s divorce, their dog, and their childhood trauma—all before 10 a.m.

Jesus and the woman at the well are having that kind of conversation—but instead of gossip, she’s about to get grace.

The water cooler is now a well of revelation.

And just like in those moments at work when someone you didn’t expect opens up and starts dropping truth bombs, Jesus does the same. But instead of offering advice, He offers Himself.

Part 2: Living Water — What You Really Came For

The woman came for water, but Jesus came to give living water—a gift that satisfies the soul forever. She’s confused at first:

“Sir, you have no bucket, and the well is deep. Where do you get that living water?”

Jesus gently explains:

“Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst.”

How many of us are chasing things that never truly satisfy? Approval, success, distractions… The well is deep, and we keep coming back thirsty.

If Jesus were running a commercial, it would be:
“Drink once, never thirst again. Cancel your subscription to disappointment.”

The woman, intrigued, asks for this water that never runs dry—practical, refreshing, eternal.

Living Water: What You Really Came For

The woman came to get water—but Jesus came to give it.

“If you knew the gift of God, and who it is that is saying to you, ‘Give me a drink,’ you would have asked him, and he would have given you living water.” (John 4:10)

Now she’s confused. First, a Jewish man talks to her. Now He’s offering plumbing solutions without a bucket. Her response?

“Sir, you have no bucket, and the well is deep.” (John 4:11)

Translation: “You don’t even have the tools. Where’s this magic water coming from?”

That’s when Jesus gently redirects her perspective. He’s not talking about the kind of water that evaporates or needs to be fetched. He’s talking about what your soul craves when your heart is tired, your past is heavy, and your future looks like more of the same.

Let’s be honest—many of us are carrying spiritual buckets with holes in them. We keep coming back to the same wells:

• approval from people,

• financial security,

• relationship after relationship,

• titles and accomplishments,

• entertainment to numb the emptiness.

But none of it lasts. Because the well is deep, and we are thirsty.

Jesus doesn’t offer a refill. He offers a source.

“The water that I will give will become in them a spring of water gushing up to eternal life.” (John 4:14)

The “Permanent Beverage” Deal

If this were a commercial, Jesus would be saying:
“Drink once, never thirst again. No more refills, no more trips in the heat of the day. Cancel your subscription to disappointment.”

And the woman? She’s intrigued.

“Sir, give me this water, so that I may never be thirsty or have to keep coming here to draw water.” (John 4:15)

Can you blame her? If someone told you they could cancel your need to constantly chase what doesn’t satisfy—you’d sign up too.

But Jesus isn’t just offering convenience. He’s offering conversion. And for that, He has to deal with the real issue—not just her thirst, but her heart.

Application: Are We Tired of Coming to the Same Well?

Many people, just like the Samaritan woman, are tired—not physically, but emotionally and spiritually:

• Tired of pretending.

• Tired of hiding their past.

• Tired of thirsting for love but finding lust.

• Tired of religion with no relationship.

Jesus says, “I know. I’ve been sitting here, waiting to offer you something better.”

He offers not just forgiveness, but fullness. Not just a moment of relief, but a new reality—a life where worship and purpose rise from within because you’ve been made new.

Part 3: “Go Call Your Husband” — When God Touches the Deep Wound

Then Jesus asks her to call her husband. She honestly says, “I have no husband,” and Jesus reveals He knows her complicated past. But notice—Jesus doesn’t shame her. He meets her truth with grace.

Feeling vulnerable, she shifts the conversation to worship locations, trying to avoid the personal. Sound familiar? We all do this—changing the subject when God gets too close.

Jesus redirects her gently:

“True worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and truth.”

Worship isn’t about a place or ritual; it’s about heart posture—a spirit alive in truth. No résumé required, just openness to God’s Spirit.

“Go Call Your Husband”: When God Touches the Deep Wound

So just when the conversation seems to be going well—refreshing, even—Jesus switches gears:

“Go, call your husband, and come back.” (John 4:16)

Wait—what?

Jesus, we were talking about water. Why are we suddenly talking about husbands?

Because Jesus doesn’t offer surface sips—He goes deep. And sometimes the deepest wells in our lives are the ones we’ve tried to cover with years of silence, shame, or sarcasm.

The woman responds:

“I have no husband.” (John 4:17)

That’s technically true, but Jesus knows the rest of the story:

“You are right…for you have had five husbands, and the one you have now is not your husband.” (v. 18)

Now pause. This could’ve been a moment of public shame. He could’ve blasted her for moral failure. Instead, He honors her honesty—and gently brings her face to face with her pain.

No yelling. No name-calling. Just truth, wrapped in divine compassion.

“This Is Not What I Ordered with My Water”

Imagine going to Starbucks and ordering a drink, and the barista says, “Here’s your caramel macchiato… oh, and I noticed you’ve been emotionally distant from your dad since seventh grade.”

Jesus just served up truth with no whipped cream—and the woman wasn’t ready for it. But grace never embarrasses. It heals.

And like many of us, when she starts feeling vulnerable, she changes the subject.

“Our ancestors worshiped on this mountain, but you Jews say Jerusalem is the place…” (v. 20)

In other words: “Let’s talk religion, not relationships. Let’s argue theology, not talk about my past.”

Sound familiar?

We often do the same. When God gets too close to the real issue, we deflect:

• “But what about church tradition?”

• “What denomination are you?”

• “What’s your stance on [insert doctrinal debate]?”

Jesus doesn’t take the bait. He gently redirects again—to what really matters.

Worship Reimagined: Not a Place, but a Posture

“The hour is coming, and is now here, when the true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and truth.” (v. 23)

In other words: “It’s not about where you worship. It’s about how. It’s about truth in the innermost parts. It’s about spirit flowing from a heart that’s been made alive again.”

This is revolutionary. For a woman who was excluded from temple life, ostracized by society, and likely unsure if God would even hear her—Jesus just opened the door wide. She’s invited in.

“God is spirit, and those who worship him must worship in spirit and truth.” (v. 24)

No temple needed. No pedigree required. No spiritual resume to show off. Just spirit. Just truth. Just you and Him.

Application: When God Gets Personal, Don’t Run—Lean In

What if Jesus asked you today:

“Go call your past. Bring your patterns. Let’s talk about what you’re carrying.”

Would you freeze? Would you deflect? Or would you dare to be honest like the Samaritan woman?

Because here’s the truth: Jesus doesn’t uncover wounds to wound us. He uncovers them to heal us. And healing always begins with honesty.

Part 4: “I Know Messiah Is Coming” — When Revelation Becomes Personal

The woman reveals her hope:

“I know that Messiah is coming. When He comes, He will explain everything.”

Jesus responds:

“I am He, the one speaking to you.”

This is a powerful moment: Jesus reveals His identity directly to someone many would consider unworthy of such truth. But the Kingdom of God doesn’t run on credentials—it runs on readiness.

Imagine her surprise: The Messiah, right here at my well? Talking to me?

When God’s truth speaks directly to our story—our messy, imperfect life—that’s when revelation becomes personal.

“I Know Messiah Is Coming”: When Revelation Becomes Personal

Something was stirring inside her. Even with the discomfort, even with the past exposed, the Samaritan woman wasn’t running away. She stayed. She listened. She opened up a little more.

“I know that Messiah is coming” (who is called Christ). “When he comes, he will proclaim all things to us.” (John 4:25)

Her theology wasn’t fully shaped, but her hope wasn’t dead either.

Even after five failed marriages, broken trust, cultural rejection, and religious confusion—she still had this one ember burning:
“When the Messiah comes…”

And then Jesus drops the truth that changes everything:

“I am He, the one who is speaking to you.” (v. 26)

In the original Greek, the phrase is even more powerful—ἐγώ εἰμι (egō eimi)—“I AM.” The same phrase used by God in the Old Testament.

This wasn’t just a declaration. It was a divine unveiling. The well had become a sanctuary. The conversation had become a calling.

And she—a woman others had written off—became the first person in the Gospel of John to hear this divine self-revelation directly from Jesus.

“Wait—Me? You’re Telling Me This?”

Let’s be real—if this were a Hollywood script, this moment should’ve been reserved for a priest in a temple, or a prophet in a synagogue. Not a woman with a complicated relationship status and a bucket.

But that’s the Kingdom of God for you:
It doesn’t run on résumé. It runs on readiness.

And readiness is often found at the end of ourselves, where the thirst is real, and our hands are finally open.

Imagine her blinking at Him, bucket in hand, mind racing:
“Wait. The Messiah… is sitting on my well? Talking to ME?”

Yes. And He’s still doing that today.

Practical Insight: When the Truth of God Speaks Directly Into Your Story

There’s a difference between hearing about the Messiah and hearing from the Messiah.

• You can know the Scriptures but not recognize the Savior.

• You can follow the rules but miss the relationship.

• You can believe He’s coming someday and still miss when He shows up right now.

This woman’s shift happened not when she understood theology perfectly—but when she understood that He saw her. He knew her. And He still talked to her.

When the Word becomes flesh in your own personal history, in your messy timeline, in your weary soul—that’s when revelation becomes personal.

God Still Speaks at Wells

Your “well” might not be made of stone, but it might be:

• A hospital room.

• A lonely car ride.

• A late-night walk where you’re replaying regrets.

• A church service you didn’t want to attend but came anyway.

Wherever your soul stops to catch its breath, that’s where He meets you.

And if you’ll stay long enough to listen, you might hear Him say,

“I am He, the one speaking to you.”

Part 5: “She Left Her Water Jar” — When Encounter Becomes Evangelism

After this encounter, the woman leaves her water jar behind—the symbol of her old life and thirst—and runs to tell others:

“Come and see a man who told me everything I ever did! Could this be the Messiah?”

She becomes a witness, a spark for revival. When we truly meet Jesus, we can’t keep it to ourselves.

“She Left Her Water Jar”: When Encounter Becomes Evangelism

After hearing the life-changing words of Jesus, something remarkable happens:

“Leaving her water jar, the woman went back to the city and said to the people, ‘Come and see a man who told me everything I ever did! Could this be the Messiah?’” (John 4:28–29)

She didn’t take the water jar with her.

Why?

Because that jar represented the old way—carrying her thirst alone, relying on broken wells, dragging around the weight of her past. Now she was carrying something new: living water inside her.

She didn’t keep this gift to herself. No. She ran. She shared. She became a witness, a spark, an invitation to others.

Practical Takeaway: When You Meet Jesus, You Can’t Keep It Quiet

True encounters with Jesus change everything—from the inside out.

• We leave behind old burdens.

• We trade shame for hope.

• We become storytellers of grace.

Like the Samaritan woman, your testimony—your story—is powerful. It doesn’t matter what your past looks like or what others think of you. What matters is who you met, who changed your heart, and how that change flows through your life.

A Little Humor: The “Forgot My Jar” Moment

Ever leave your phone charger at home and realize by noon you’re in big trouble? This woman forgot her water jar, but she didn’t need it anymore.
Her new “charger” was the Spirit—constantly filling, never draining.

Closing Prayer

Father God, thank You for meeting us at our wells—where we come tired, thirsty, and broken.
Thank You for offering living water that satisfies deeper than anything this world can give.
Help us to recognize Jesus when He speaks to us personally, with truth and grace.
Give us courage to leave behind what no longer serves us—old fears, regrets, and false securities.
Fill us anew with Your Spirit so that we may become living springs of Your love and hope to others.
Use our stories to draw people to You, for Your glory alone.
In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Benediction

May the living water of Christ fill your heart and overflow in your life.
May you worship the Father in spirit and truth, embracing the freedom only He provides.
And may you go from this place with the joy of the Samaritan woman—bold to share the love and truth of Jesus, knowing He meets you wherever you are.
Peace be with you, now and always. Amen.

Grace & Peace
Dr. John Roberts THD