Dry, Cracked Cisterns Hold No Water

A Reflection for Wednesday, March 11 by Rev Alicia Vela Anderson

Lectionary reading for 03/11/2026: Psalm 81; Jeremiah 2:4-13; John 7:14-31, 37-39

Selected passage for reflection: Jeremiah 2:9-13

Read

Jeremiah 2: 9-13 NRSVUE

Therefore, once more I accuse you,

            says the Lord,

    and I accuse your children’s children.

Cross to the coasts of Cyprus and look;

    send to Kedar and examine with care;

    see if there has ever been such a thing.

Has a nation changed its gods,

    even though they are no gods?

But my people have changed their glory

    for something that does not profit.

Be appalled, O heavens, at this;

    be shocked; be utterly desolate,

            says the Lord,

for my people have committed two evils:

    they have forsaken me,

the fountain of living water,

    and dug out cisterns for themselves,

cracked cisterns

    that can hold no water.

Reflect

At the beginning of Lent, in search of something to fast from, I asked myself the question, “What’s something that is no longer serving me?” It was a softer way of urging me to take a harsh look at my patterns and what I was filling my time and space with. Rather than try to shame myself out of certain behaviors or reliances, I wanted to use this season to take a deeper look into the places in my life where I was digging out my own cistern rather than drinking from the Living Water offered to me. 

Lent is often seen as a time of creating rhythm or practice in our lives, but it can also be a good time to disrupt the pattern. We all have the ability or tendency to keep something around because it's easy or comfortable. The thing we do because it’s routine, it could even be a helpful habit, or neutral. We couldn’t dream of not doing that thing. 

But in reality, it’s something that’s become less of a choice and more of an automatic. Every time I open my phone, my fingers naturally go to this app, even if I opened it for something else. My morning doesn’t start until I’ve had my morning cup of coffee. We can get to the point where our lives are just moving from one pattern to the next. One task to another without even thinking about it. 

It’s not until we have an interruption that we even really think about what that action was doing for or to us. I uncovered one of these patterns when I found myself coming home from work, sitting on the couch, and completely dissociating with my phone. Suddenly, it was an hour later, and I had no idea where the time had gone. I would tell myself I deserved the time because of everything that had transpired that day. I needed the “rest” of checking out. 

And yes, once in a while, we need to check out. But every day for months on end? Probably not. Because when I was actually honest with myself, checking out was actually my way of not dealing with the toxicity of my workplace. It was keeping me from telling the truth that I was drowning, and something needed to change. 

The prophet Jeremiah says there were two ways the people were falling short: not only were they not going to the God of Living Water, but they were also digging their own cisterns to quench their thirst, ones that wouldn’t even hold water. It’s one thing to refuse to take your thirst and hunger to God; it’s another to try to find the sustenance elsewhere. 

Because honestly, nothing is going to give you that deep, satisfying fullness like the love and beauty of the Creator. Nothing will fill your cup in the same way. I’ve seen the evidence in my own life: putting down the habit that was providing me with the “rest” of checking out and picking up the habits of rest that draw me closer to the heart of God gave me the confidence to find better for myself. 

Respond 

My guess is that the Spirit is already bringing up something for you to examine after reading these words. Take a moment to quiet your mind and body and connect yourself to the heart of God, inviting you in. Ask the Spirit to show you where you’ve dug your own cistern rather than drawing up the living water.

Rest 

Creator God, I know you by your Spirit, remind me that I am your beloved child. Guide me back toward your arms, where I find belonging and unwavering grace. Amen

About the Author 

Rev. Alicia Vela Anderson serves as a Spiritual Formation Coach at a nonprofit that builds on the strengths, skills, and potential of young moms. She is passionate about guiding others through discovering the beauty of God in their own stories and journeys. She lives in Chicago, IL, with her husband, where she enjoys exploring, reading, and living locally.