katie rose writes

We went up to try and find "little India" in the Big Apple. We wanted to engage the people groups we are about to plant our lives in for the next few years. We wanted to put into practice the knowledge we've been gleaning along the way.  Instead, we fumbled through a subway system that tried to knock us over again and again (literally). Uptown & downtown mean nothing to southerners. We finally made it across that big bridge that we couldn't yet name, and walked when the signals told us we could to the only familiar site we saw--Starbucks.  We tried to speak. We tried to pray. We complained more than we needed to. And we began to walk around hot streets that never end.  We found no South Asians. No foreign languages burned our ears. Faces mirroring our own walked briskly past, most without a hint of eye contact or smile.  But we kept walking till our feet knew those few Brooklyn streets.  And suddenly, my shoulders straightened as we tre...

I've been seeing my heart in a slightly strange way lately.  I've seen it emptied out, poured out, stretched out. Like an empty hull of a damaged ship, cargo jettisoned, passengers floating away in lifeboats—fully abandoned in the stormy seas. My worship echoes through that hull, a whisper compared to the waves. The truths I'm desperately clinging to from the Word are like marbles, tossed right along with me, but making so much noise as they go back and forth with the rhythmic force.  Acts 23.11 has been one of those marbles this week. “The following night, the Lord stood by him, saying, “Take courage, for as you testified to the facts about me in Jerusalem, so you must testify in Rome.” I find it interesting (a girl in my small group pointed this out) that usually when God visited His people in prison, it was through an angel. But when Jesus needed to be there, He was there. Himself. In flesh, standing beside Paul. I take courage in this p...

I sat with my knees drawn up to my chest, praying with the girls I'm living with here at training. We spent time adoring, confessing, thanking, and presenting our requests to the Father. As I began to ask the Father to strengthen my supervisors, my heart swelled for the people I'm about to live among, for the women I will soon meet.  "I long to know these women, Father. I long to share life with them. I long for them to know You intimately."  Tears come to my eyes even as I write these words. Because, as I felt this longing more deeply than I have before, God brought me back to His promise, made 5 years ago. "Behold, I am with you, and will keep you wherever you go, and I will bring you back to this land; for I will not leave you until I have done what I've promised you." Genesis 28.15. He spoke this word over me five years ago. And here we are.  Going back.  Promise fulfilled. This place. This time. These weaknesses.  I cannot express th...