The red desert sun beats down hard, glaring off the sand and blistering your skin with each passing second. Your clothes cling to you, dripping with sweat, as you stumble forward aimlessly. You’re lost. And if you don’t find water, you’re going to die.
As you peer out across the blinding landscape through squinted eyes, you catch a glint on the horizon. A faint glimmer. Your breath draws sharply over cracked lips and a parched tongue as you gasp. Could it be?
Every muscle in your body burns as you force your tired legs to run. Closer. The shimmering in the distance grows wider until…yes, it is! Water! A beautiful spring in the midst of desolation. Immediately you bend down, cup the cool, clear liquid in your hands and drink. Never have you been so refreshed, so satisfied!
Then, out of the corner of your eye, you see another wanderer. He sits only a few feet away from the pool, digging furiously in the sand. Curious, you venture over to see what has him so preoccupied.
Drawing nearer, you notice he is sitting in a dank, miry mud hole. And, much to your shock and horror, you realize the purpose of his frantic digging: he’s scooping handfuls of the thick, black stuff into his mouth. Choking on it. Gagging.
Aghast, you crouch down beside him and beg him to stop. “I’ve found fresh water!” you tell him. “It’s right over there! Not ten feet from here. Come and drink!” But he won’t listen to you. He just keeps shoveling the mud down his throat—more and more, faster and faster—desperately attempting to quench his insatiable thirst.
As repulsive as this man’s actions are, what’s even more disturbing is we have all joined him at one time or another in our lives. Without God, we become desperate. Depraved. And we will turn to any number of mud holes, or empty wells, to try and meet our needs.
The beer bottle is an empty well. So is the credit card. And the cigarette. That promiscuous relationship? Empty well. Those questionable internet sites? They’re empty wells, too.
Even good things can become empty wells—food, clothes, jobs, hobbies, even ministry. We put a clean, white picket fence around our wells and tell ourselves it’s okay because they’re not “bad things”, but the truth is we’re looking for something in them that only God can supply. We’re going to the created when we should be going to the Creator.
The question is: What are we really looking for? Peace? Hope? Purpose? Could be we’re searching for our identity, or a sense of value and worth. Maybe we’re trying to find acceptance. But when we try to supplement what we falsely believe God is deficient in giving us, we sin.
How do we turn from our empty wells? First, we must recognize them. Ask Jesus to show you what you turn to outside of him when your emotions rise, when you’re exhausted, or when you’re battling insecurity. It might be helpful to make a list of your empty wells, and consider the question, “Why am I going there?”
Once we’ve identified our empty wells, we must abandon them! Would you pray this prayer today? “Lord, my heart desires that which does not satisfy. Help me return to you, the spring of living water, for everything I need.”
Psalm 36:9 says, “For with you is the fountain of life…” Jesus is our one true source of wholeness—our fountain of life! Let’s not settle for anything less.
Reflection Questions
- List some empty wells you can identify in your life. What need are you trying to meet when you go to them?
- Why do you think it’s easier to go to an empty well than to get the real thing from Jesus?
- The next time you’re tempted to go to an empty well, pause and pray. Ask God to meet your need in that moment, and to take away your desire for the false substitute.