You’re Looking for Love

I’ll admit it: I’ve taken the same photo a dozen times before posting it, then checked back every few minutes to see who noticed. I’ve replayed one offhand comment from my boss for days, trying to decide whether it meant I was doing well or falling short. None of that feels like “looking for love” in the moment. It just feels normal. But if I’m honest about what’s underneath it all, I’m hoping someone will tell me I’m worth loving. 

Here’s what I’m learning: the longing itself isn’t the problem. God wired every heart to long for love, purpose, significance, security, understanding, and belonging. Those are good desires. The trouble comes when we ask people, success, or performance to fill what only God can. Whatever we lean on that way becomes an idol, and idols always overpromise and underdeliver. 

Jesus speaks right to this when He meets a Samaritan woman at a well. He tells her that if she knew who was asking for a drink, she’d have asked Him for “living water” (John 4:10). Then He says, “Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks of the water that I will give him will never be thirsty again” (John 4:13–14). She came for a bucket of water. He offered her what would actually satisfy. 

Alone at Noon 

John includes a detail that’s easy to skip: Jesus “had to pass through Samaria” (John 4:4). Jews considered Samaritans unclean, and many went out of their way to avoid the region. According to R.C. Sproul, the route Jesus took meant a physically demanding climb into the Samaritan hills (1). He arrived at the well exhausted. Why take the harder road? Because love required it. It was the only way to reach her. 

She came at noon, the hottest part of the day, and she came alone. Women usually drew water together, in the cool of the morning or evening. Whether shame kept her away from others or others kept away from her, she was isolated. As their conversation unfolds, we learn she’d had five husbands, and the man she was with now wasn’t her husband (John 4:16–18). She had spent her life searching for love and kept coming up empty. 

Her problem wasn’t that she was looking. It was where she was looking. And honestly, I’m not so different. We curate our feeds to be liked and followed. We chase approval from parents, coaches, and bosses, hoping someone will finally say, “Good job.” Different wells, same thirst. 

Finding Water That Lasts 

The answer isn’t to stop longing for love. It’s to stop drinking from wells that leave us thirsty and bring that longing to Jesus. Here’s what that’s starting to look like for me. 

Name the thirst underneath. Jesus used an ordinary request for water to uncover what this woman was really searching for. He can do the same with my ordinary moments. When I catch myself refreshing a post or fishing for a compliment, I’m learning to pause and ask, “What am I really thirsty for?” 

Ask the honest question. It’s easy to analyze this woman’s choices and much harder to let her story ask me, “What compromises have I made to be loved?” Jesus didn’t condemn her. He drew her story out with gentle questions, the way she’d draw water from a well. That means I don’t have to hide my answer from Him. 

Look past the choices. When someone’s life looks messy, it’s tempting to judge. But a saying often attributed to F.B. Meyer reminds me that I’ll never know how hard they resisted before they fell, how strong the temptation was, or how I would have responded under the same pressure. What looks like acting out may really be a cry for rescue. 

Take the harder road. Jesus took the harder road to reach one lonely woman, and He invites us to love others the way He’s loved us. For people who’ve given up on real love, our love may be the first glimpse of His they see. That might mean praying for someone by name, telling them what Jesus has done for you, or giving generously so others can meet Him too. 

The Love We’re Looking for Is Looking for Us 

I won’t pretend I’ve figured this out. I still catch myself going back to wells that leave me thirsty. But I can’t get over how this conversation ends. When the woman mentioned the coming Messiah, Jesus told her, “I who speak to you am he” (John 4:26). The One she’d been looking for had come looking for her. The woman who’d come to the well alone left her water jar and went back into town to tell everyone about Him (John 4:28–29). 

That’s the gospel. It isn’t about our ability to reach God. It’s the announcement that God has come looking for us. Jesus still takes the harder road for us. He took it all the way to the cross, not because it was easy, but because love required it. 

So let me ask you: what well do you keep going back to, hoping this time it will satisfy? This week, the next time you feel that familiar thirst, pause and bring it to Jesus before you reach for anything else. He’s closer than you think. 

Sources: 

(1) R.C. Sproul, John, St. Andrew’s Expositional Commentary (Reformation Trust Publishing, 2009).