My husband teases me that he is writing a song called, “That’s Not a Question.” I have a terrible habit of asking for what I want instead of stating it directly. Maybe you will recognize this pattern in a friend or family member. Instead of telling my children when and how they can be helpful, I ask them, “Do you want to carry Grandma’s suitcase?” or “Would you like to clean up the kitchen before I get home?” And then I get angry when they say, “No,” because, even though I phrased it as a question, it wasn’t meant as a question.

There are times when I feel like I cannot state a want or need directly, so I offer it in the form of a question. Or I project my desire onto someone else in the form of a question, hoping they will hear my need. Recently I asked my husband, “Jeff, would you like to go to the beach for spring break?” But it’s not an honest question.

I appreciate the conversation in today’s reading between Jesus and the woman at the well because they speak directly. They ask for what they need: water. Living water. They respect each other enough to be honest, despite cultural barriers and gender expectations. They speak truthfully without feeling the need to make a moral judgment or offer a self-righteous defense.

Their interaction is refreshing and instructive for me because I tend to communicate more like the Israelites and Moses in Exodus 17. I may prompt a quarrel about something insignificant or make a dishonest request to avoid naming the thing I really need or want. I can choose to communicate indirectly and risk forty years of restlessness outside of God’s promises. Or I can find the courage to ask for exactly what I need, receive it, and serve my entire community by sharing my blessings.