Pilgrimage Focus: The wilderness exposes our thirst—and God’s capacity to meet us there.
John 4:5–42

In John 4, Jesus meets the Samaritan woman at the well with compassion, grace, and a revelation of purpose in an unexpected place. It is easy to miss how much wilderness is present in this story.

The woman comes to the well in the heat of the day—likely avoiding others, living on the margins, or carrying shame and exhaustion. Jesus names that she has had five husbands and is now living with someone who is not her husband, pointing to a life shaped by wilderness experiences she may not have had much control over.
And yet Jesus meets her there.

Jesus asks her for a drink. The disciples are shocked that he is speaking to a woman—and a Samaritan woman at that. But Jesus does not treat her as a problem to solve. He treats her as a person. He receives from her, relying on her to draw water, honoring her presence and experience. And then he offers her something deeper: living water.

In wilderness seasons, we often discover what we have to offer. When we pause long enough to listen for the voice of Jesus—especially in uncertain moments—we may realize that our gifts, passions, and lived experiences are not disqualifying. They are often exactly what is needed for the work of God’s kingdom in the world.

Many congregations are finding themselves in this kind of wilderness. After COVID and the decisions of the General Conference, some experienced the loss of members—sometimes long-time friends and fellow sojourners.

This was the story for Winchester First UMC. They walked through the wilderness of grief when many chose to leave. As a congregation, they slowed down, grieved what was lost, celebrated the community that remained, and remembered what had not changed.

What remained was their commitment to being salt and light in their community.

They began gathering intentionally on Wednesday nights. They noticed the needs of their neighbors and formed partnerships in the community—hosting health fairs, opening a warming shelter in winter, and offering meals, clothing, and showers for unhoused neighbors throughout the year. They are even exploring transitional housing partnerships and creative ways to sustain ministry through renting space in their building.

Their time in the wilderness opened the door to fresh purpose. New people are now joining them in the work of God’s kingdom in ways they had not imagined before.

Many of us are living in wilderness seasons of change—in the world around us, in our churches, and in our own lives. When we allow ourselves to sit with these moments, we may rediscover our gifts and our call to be the church in the time and place we find ourselves.

Lenten Practice: Centering Meditation
I invite you to settle into stillness. Take a slow breath in… and gently release it.
Let your shoulders soften. Let your body rest where you are.

We come into this moment just as we are—carrying what this week has held,
carrying what this season has asked of us.

In the story of the woman at the well, Jesus meets someone who arrives carrying her own story, her own wounds, her own thirst.And he meets her there.

So for a moment, simply notice what you are carrying.
Is there grief present today? A loss… a disappointment… a worry…something unfinished or unresolved? Without trying to fix it or explain it, simply name it before God.
Pause for silence.

Now notice another question.
Where do you feel thirst in your life right now?
A longing for rest…for belonging… for clarity…for healing…for hope?
Name your thirst honestly.
Pause for silence.

In the quiet, imagine Jesus meeting you here—
not with judgment, not with hurry, but with the same compassion he offered at the well.
The one who knows your story also offers living water. Let yourself sit for a moment in that presence.
Longer pause.

When you are ready, take a slow breath in…and gently release it. Trust that the God who meets us at the well also walks with us from here.
Amen.