Abraham dug them; life-giving wells that bubbled up pure and invigorating. And then he died. The Philistines eyed their chance to hinder God’s people, and into the bracing stream they threw stones and debris and trash, the filler mounding ever higher until finally the flow was a trickle, then merely an ooze across the top, then there was nothing. But hang on! Underneath the stuff, the junk, the sin, God’s water was sure, was still cool, was still invigorating, was still necessary. It had not lessened, had not receded, had not been quenched.
The sheep lay panting.
One day Isaac walked by a stopped-up well. Ho!, this cannot be! And that godly man began digging. He threw out the stones, the trash, the debris, the sin, the carnality. He re-dug the well, and then another, and another.
The sheep drank . . . and lived.
Praying today for shepherds. . . and for the sheep, thirsty sheep, needy sheep . . .who look with trusting eyes to their shepherd.