katie rose writes

I wasn’t even looking to be brave. I wasn’t expecting a conversation, fresh off of four days of not leaving my apartment with a bad cold. I was expecting a quick jaunt to the xerox, to make copies, then to my old apartment to get a few things, then back to my new apartment to continue getting ready. Turns out, He had other plans. Plans to answer prayers. Plans to restore my hope here, now—for this new season and this old, wounded place where my weary heart is trying to resettle once more. And so, He had a whole crowd of college students also seeking to make copies, waiting for one or two copiers in the back to get it done. So the owner instructed me to sit down, and I sat beside one of those college students, a young girl studying on the couch. She made room for me, then continued to flip through her notebook and the copies of the notes that she made. And in ten seconds of bravery that really wasn’t yet bravery—it was just my curiosity—I asked, Apka homework? Your homework? My ...

Only God can speak of sin, guilt, and judgement, yet in the same breath speak so tenderly of His past deeds and love that He has steadfastly shown to His people. Only He can chastise yet speak of covenant acts that binds Him even still to His people who have long-since forsaken the very same covenant. This is His severe mercy—for some will hear the words and truly repent. Others will still reject them. Despite it all—His still speaks to us. It is a battle for those of us in Christ to read these words and not feel struck down in condemnation. Conviction is one thing. Knowing that we too are quick to run to others lovers is one thing; or that we too forsake freedom for slavery—that’s conviction. Condemnation throws us on the ground and says we cannot get up. It pins us down in those moments and says, twisting the Word for his own scheme, How will you now return to Him? But God’s conviction is gentle and it is leading us somewhere else, beyond the borders of our guilt and shame. God...

“Even with all your broken pieces I make wholeness, not perfection Even with all your broken pieces I have a greater story to tell Even with all your broken pieces I give you living water from My well Even will all your broken pieces I will fill you and rush through you Even with all your broken pieces I send you to a broken world.” As I began to read Jeremiah 2 a few mornings ago, I only made it a fourth of the way through the chapter. A lump lodged in my throat as I read God’s voice over His people’s sin— My people have committed two evils: they have forsaken Me, the fountain of living waters, and they have made cisterns for themselves, broken cisterns that can hold no water— not because of any conviction over my own sin, but because of a question that struck me in the wake of these verses.  I jotted it down beside the text and His reply was immediate, gentle, fresh water to my dry soul— What do you do when you   feel like the broken cistern...