This is one of the Bible stories that has always touched me. In my own mind, this poem is how I think this dear woman felt. I hope it opens your eyes to the Savior as it did mine.

Jacob’s Well

Staring at the dusty ground
She staggers up the road
A water jug upon her head
She bears a heavy load.

Not just a heavy water pot
But a life spent in sin
And all the scars, the bitter wounds
The guilt she holds within.

As she slowly sets the old pot down
She sighs a weary sigh
Her burdened mind goes rushing back
To trials and times gone by.

The tears begin to sting her eyes
She brushes them away
And once again she lifts her jug
To travel on her way.

A short way off she sees the well
Her thirst has reached its height
She fights to speed her tired pace
And strains with all her might.

Exhausted, she ignores her pain
And pushes further forth
Until, at last, fatigued and sore,
She finishes her course.

Her legs are weak, her eyes still burn
The noonday sun shines hot
She leans her back against the wall
And limply lifts her pot.

Lowering her empty jug
Into the well’s cool depths
She’s startled by a voice beside
And jumps back several steps.

The gentle voice arrests her thoughts
And to her total shock
The man beside her is a Jew
She looks…and their eyes lock.

“Can you give me a drink?” he asks.
She can’t believe her ears
Never has a Jew asked her
A thing, in all her years.

“Do you, a Jew, not realize
Just who I am?” she asks.
“I am from Samaria,
The wrong side of the tracks.”

“You hate us, right? We never talk
And yet you ask of me?
I’m sorry, sir, but you must know
How odd this has to be.”

Kindly, softly, he replies,
“O woman, if you knew
Who I am, you would have asked me
To give you some water, too.”

“For the water I can give you
Is enduring and alive
And once you choose to drink it
Living water won’t run dry.”

A bright smile crosses his worn face
She longs to understand
“Sir, give me of this water
So I’ll never thirst again.”

“Go and bring to me your husband.”
She stands back and hangs her head
“I have none.” She admits. He says,
“I know that. Rightly said.”

“For you have had five husbands
And the man you’re with today
Is not your husband. You are right.
It is the truth you say.”

Impossible! How could he know?
She didn’t know his name!
Could this tired Jew beside her
And Messiah be the same?

“Sir, I know when the Messiah comes
That he will tell us all.”
His soothing voice steals all her breath
She slumps against the wall.

“I am He.” His calm reply
Sends tremors through her heart
She spins and races back to town
Her great news to impart.

“Quickly, quickly! Come and see.
By Jacob’s well. A Jew.
He told me all I’ve ever done.
I can’t believe He knew.”

“He says He’s the Messiah
Any reason He can’t be?
I know He’d make a change in you
He’s made a change in me.”

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