“Come, see a man who told me everything I ever did.
Could this be the Messiah?” John 4:29
Lord Jesus, I wish there was a video of this stupefied Samaritan woman recounting the story of her collision with the gospel, and the transforming power of grace (John 4:1–42). The legendary waters of Jacob’s well were great, but only the living water you supply could slake the deepest thirst of her soul (and ours).
You exposed her sequential affairs. Yet instead of ridiculing her, you redeemed her; instead of condemning her, you cherished her; instead of shaming her, you saved her. Thank you.
En route to the nations, you brought the gospel of the kingdom to the dark continent of her heart. As she stood vulnerably in the public square of her community, she’d never been so free—no longer needing to pose or pretend.
Nothing but the gospel can grant us the gift of being fully known and completely loved. Your love is unlike anything else we can experience in this life. In fact, your love is better than life itself. On this last Sunday in September, we adore and praise you, Lord Jesus. You are our heart-knower and eternal Bridegroom, our righteousness from God and our hope of glory; our comprehensive healer and our soon-coming King.
You know every vain, foolish, evil thought we’ve ever conceived; every lustful, greedy fantasy in which we’ve engaged. Only you hear every grace-robbing, grandstanding, gossipy word we speak. Only you know the broken cisterns to which we run, and the heart-idols we foolishly trust, when you don’t “seem” to be enough.
Yet you pursue us, welcome us, desire us, and delight in us. What a wonderful, merciful Savior you are, Jesus. Life, temporal and eternal, can only be found in you. So very Amen we pray, in your transcendent and transforming name.
