In 1 Samuel, we read of David’s desperate flight from Saul, who relentlessly pursued him to take his life. In his escape, David fled into the wilderness of Maon—a barren, rocky, and desolate landscape. The Judean wilderness is a harsh place, where the sun beats down mercilessly, draining every ounce of strength. The dust and dryness consume the land, and only the most resilient of trees or bushes cling to life in the arid soil. I can picture David struggling against the heat, exhaustion setting in, yet compelled to press on to stay ahead of his enemy.
Thirsty and weary, perhaps he came upon one of Nabal’s cisterns—dug-out pits meant to capture winter rains—only to find them empty, or worse, filled with disease-ridden water. He had to keep moving. Another cistern—dry. Still, he had to keep going. And then, after a narrow escape from Saul’s forces, the Scripture tells us that David finally found refuge in the strongholds of Engedi (1 Samuel 23:29).
The Need for an Engedi
I can only imagine the relief David must have felt upon arriving at Engedi. Perhaps you have felt the same way—burdened by the weight of life’s struggles, pressed down by cares you were never meant to carry alone. The relentless heat of trials drains you, and you desperately seek a place of rest, a place of safety, a place of refreshing. You search, yet every source you find is like a mud hole, a broken cistern incapable of truly satisfying. Like David, you need an Engedi.
To this day, little has changed in the land. The Judean wilderness remains foreboding and inhospitable, with ruins of ancient structures and dried-up cisterns possibly linked to Nabal’s estate. Yet in the midst of this desolation, Engedi still stands—a lush oasis of life and beauty, a stark contrast to the wasteland surrounding it.
Solomon, in the Song of Songs, describes the beauty and fruitfulness of this sanctuary, comparing his beloved to “a cluster of henna blooms in the vineyards of Engedi” (Song of Solomon 1:14). Here, in this sanctuary, shade and water abound to restore the weary soul. The unseen source of this miracle is a spring that flows from the rock, feeding the breathtaking waterfall that forms the head of Nahal David—David’s Stream. This is more than just a natural wonder; it is a picture of a greater promise.
The Living Water
Engedi’s waters foreshadow a deeper spiritual truth. From the Rock of our Salvation, Jesus Christ, would come the Holy Spirit—refreshing, revitalizing streams of living water. Jesus declared this promise during the Feast of Tabernacles, a celebration of God’s provision that included a daily ritual where the priests would draw water from the Pool of Siloam and pour it upon the altar while the people recited Isaiah 12:3: “With joy you will draw water from the wells of salvation.”
At that moment, Jesus stood and proclaimed: “If anyone is thirsty, let him come to me and drink. Whoever believes in me, as the Scripture has said, streams of living water will flow from within him” (John 7:37-38).
The contrast is staggering. The ritualistic water offering was but a shadow of the true, life-giving water God intended all along. The same God who provided water in the wilderness now offers eternal refreshment through the Holy Spirit, an unending source of life. David could only remain in Engedi for a time, but for those who believe in Christ, the Holy Spirit dwells within—offering times of refreshing whenever and wherever they are needed.
The Tragic Choice: Broken Cisterns
Imagine if David had turned away from Engedi, rejecting the blessing of God to return to the wilderness and drink from stagnant, barren cisterns. It seems unthinkable—yet people make that choice every day.
Through the prophet Jeremiah, God lamented, “My people have committed two sins: They have forsaken me, the spring of living water, and have dug their own cisterns, broken cisterns that cannot hold water” (Jeremiah 2:13). They abandoned the very presence of God—His Spirit, His provision, His healing—and instead, chose their own ways, creating idols and substitutes for the true source of life. Pride, greed, self-righteousness—whatever we try to fill our own cisterns with, the desert eagerly absorbs it, leaving us empty.
Yet, Isaiah extends an invitation: “Come, all you who are thirsty, come to the waters; and you who have no money, come, buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk without money and without cost. Why spend money on what is not bread, and your labor on what does not satisfy? Listen, listen to me, and eat what is good, and your soul will delight in the richest of fare” (Isaiah 55:1-2).
What must we do? Peter gives the answer: “Repent, then, and turn to God, so that your sins may be wiped out, that times of refreshing may come from the Lord” (Acts 3:19). Turn away from the broken cisterns and dwell in Engedi.
Fully Immersed in the Stream
I have seen people come to the water’s edge hesitantly, saying, “I’ll just take a little. I don’t want to take too much. Let someone else have some.” But what did David do? A man of passion and exuberance, he would have thrown himself fully into the cool, refreshing stream, letting it revive every weary part of his being. He would have drunk deeply, taking in all he could.
Are you thirsty? Then come. Come dwell in Engedi. Do not settle for broken cisterns when the true source of life is freely given. Dive in. Drink deeply. And be refreshed.