You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Here’s a term that wasn’t around when John was compiling his gospel: slut-shaming. Is that what Jesus does with the Samaritan woman he meets at the well in this week’s gospel story?
Jesus and the woman have been exchanging words; I’m not sure we can call it conversation. They keep talking past each other. He asks her for water; she wonders why he’s willing to ask her. He says if she knew who was asking, she’d be asking him – and that the water he gives never runs out. She goes literal – and sarcastic: ‘Okay, so give me this water, so that I may never thirst or have to keep coming here for water.’
And Jesus changes the subject. Abruptly. “‘Go, call your husband, and come back.’ The woman answered him, ‘I have no husband.’ Jesus said to her, ‘You are right in saying, “I have no husband”; for you have had five husbands, and the one you have now is not your husband. What you have said is true!” If this is meant to shut her up, it doesn’t work: “The woman said to him, ‘Sir, I see that you are a prophet,” and swiftly changes the subject again.
How did she feel when Jesus spoke her past to her? He had no earthly way of knowing this about her. But she doesn’t deny it – and more significantly, she doesn’t break off the conversation. Sure, she changes the subject, launching into a discussion of proper locations for worship, a topic that divided Jews and Samaritans, but she doesn’t leave. There must have been something about the way Jesus spoke and looked at her that invited her to be real, not hidden.
That is how the Holy Spirit works in us. Sometimes we are to God as wild animals are to humans – skittish, afraid to get too close. And God comes into our lives, sits down, starts a conversation, which we might do our best to obscure or keep on a surface level of needs and thank you’s, so that we can avoid really being known. Then we find out we are in the presence of the One who already knows us, knows everything thing about us, the good, the bad, the ugly – and isn’t walking away.
Have you had that kind of conversation with God lately? Ever? What would you rather Jesus didn’t know about you? Can you bring it up first? Just lay it out there… see how he reacts, what he says?
Chances are, you will come away feeling more accepted and loved than blamed or shamed. If you've ever seen a 12-step meeting in action, you've seen how this works on a human level: people are accepted as they speak the worst about themselves, and are loved into sobriety. If this can happen with people, imagine how thoroughly God can love us into wholeness as we make ourselves available.
We learn later that this moment with Jesus hit home, for the woman runs back to her townspeople – the ones whose judgment she was presumably avoiding – and tells them, “Come and see a man who told me everything I ever did!” She has not been shamed. She has been liberated by discovering that the Lord of heaven and earth can know everything about her and still offer love and forgiveness.
I hope you have discovered that freedom, more than once. As we receive it, so are we able to give it.
© Kate Heichler, 2026. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
Water Daily
A spiritual reflection to encourage and inspire you as you go about your day. Just as many plants need water daily, so do our root systems if they are to sustain us as we eat, work, exercise, rest, play, talk, interact with people we know, don't know, those in between - and the creation in which we live our lives.
3-3-26 - Never Thirst
You can listen to this reflection herehere. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Wouldn’t it be nice to find the source of something we deem precious, so we could always access it?
A tired woman comes out to a well when the sun is highest, repeating a chore that no doubt has shaped her days most of her life. It is her job to fetch water for the household. It’s not so bad going, but carrying the heavy jars back to town is a burden she’d gladly give up. Why she comes at noon, in the heat of the day, we are not told. Does she want to avoid the stares and murmurs of her community?
A man is there, a Jew. She doubts she has anything to fear, but wishes he were not there to disturb her solitude. Jews are so condescending to her people, as though they weren’t just another branch on the same tree. She nods at him and sets about lowering her jar. He speaks, “Give me a drink.”
She says, “You are a Jew and I am a Samaritan woman. How can you ask me for a drink?" His answer is puzzling, “If you knew the gift of God, and who it is that is saying to you, ‘Give me a drink’, you would have asked him, and he would have given you living water.”
She is in no mood for riddles. Does he not know the holiness of this well, its history? “Sir, you have no bucket, and the well is deep. Where do you get that living water? Are you greater than our ancestor Jacob, who gave us the well, and with his sons and his flocks drank from it?”
Jesus is not done being mysterious: “Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again, but those who drink of the water that I will give them will never be thirsty. The water that I will give will become in them a spring of water gushing up to eternal life.”
A spring of water in us, gushing. Here is an image of life, of movement. If you’ve ever been mesmerized by rushing water in a brook or river, or stared at a waterfall or waves crashing, receding, returning, crashing again, you know how powerful an image this is of abundance. And Jesus locates this gushing spring not outside of us but inside, where we always have access. This spring is God’s life, renewing us.
What do you most wish you’d never run out of? If your answer is something material – food, money – it’s good to name it. If it’s something emotional – love, affirmation, attention – it’s important to be aware of what motivates you. God gives us no guarantees of provision in those areas. But spiritual commodities, like peace, healing, forgiveness, love, these all come with God’s living water in us, and they are always being replenished.
Today in prayer image that river of God-life flowing through you, dislodging all the debris of sin and hurt, and bearing it away, renewing and refreshing everything in its path. You might reflect on areas in which you feel empty or dry, and invite the river to flow to those places. If you feel a need of healing, invite the river to flow into that area. If you’re burdened by anxiety about the world or other people, invite the river to flow through those places, a visual prayer.
As we become more practiced at accessing the living water inside us, the spiritual gifts it brings may just make us more content about those material and emotional areas we worry about. After all, this living water is the river of God, which Jesus likens to the Holy Spirit. Our mouths may thirst, our stomachs may hunger – yet with this spring inside us, our spirits need never go dry.
© Kate Heichler, 2026. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
Wouldn’t it be nice to find the source of something we deem precious, so we could always access it?
A tired woman comes out to a well when the sun is highest, repeating a chore that no doubt has shaped her days most of her life. It is her job to fetch water for the household. It’s not so bad going, but carrying the heavy jars back to town is a burden she’d gladly give up. Why she comes at noon, in the heat of the day, we are not told. Does she want to avoid the stares and murmurs of her community?
A man is there, a Jew. She doubts she has anything to fear, but wishes he were not there to disturb her solitude. Jews are so condescending to her people, as though they weren’t just another branch on the same tree. She nods at him and sets about lowering her jar. He speaks, “Give me a drink.”
She says, “You are a Jew and I am a Samaritan woman. How can you ask me for a drink?" His answer is puzzling, “If you knew the gift of God, and who it is that is saying to you, ‘Give me a drink’, you would have asked him, and he would have given you living water.”
She is in no mood for riddles. Does he not know the holiness of this well, its history? “Sir, you have no bucket, and the well is deep. Where do you get that living water? Are you greater than our ancestor Jacob, who gave us the well, and with his sons and his flocks drank from it?”
Jesus is not done being mysterious: “Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again, but those who drink of the water that I will give them will never be thirsty. The water that I will give will become in them a spring of water gushing up to eternal life.”
A spring of water in us, gushing. Here is an image of life, of movement. If you’ve ever been mesmerized by rushing water in a brook or river, or stared at a waterfall or waves crashing, receding, returning, crashing again, you know how powerful an image this is of abundance. And Jesus locates this gushing spring not outside of us but inside, where we always have access. This spring is God’s life, renewing us.
What do you most wish you’d never run out of? If your answer is something material – food, money – it’s good to name it. If it’s something emotional – love, affirmation, attention – it’s important to be aware of what motivates you. God gives us no guarantees of provision in those areas. But spiritual commodities, like peace, healing, forgiveness, love, these all come with God’s living water in us, and they are always being replenished.
Today in prayer image that river of God-life flowing through you, dislodging all the debris of sin and hurt, and bearing it away, renewing and refreshing everything in its path. You might reflect on areas in which you feel empty or dry, and invite the river to flow to those places. If you feel a need of healing, invite the river to flow into that area. If you’re burdened by anxiety about the world or other people, invite the river to flow through those places, a visual prayer.
As we become more practiced at accessing the living water inside us, the spiritual gifts it brings may just make us more content about those material and emotional areas we worry about. After all, this living water is the river of God, which Jesus likens to the Holy Spirit. Our mouths may thirst, our stomachs may hunger – yet with this spring inside us, our spirits need never go dry.
© Kate Heichler, 2026. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
3-2-26 - A Man, a Woman, a Well
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
The “Jesus encounter” before us this week is a rich story about a meeting between Jesus and a Samaritan woman on a hot and dusty noontime: So he came to a Samaritan city called Sychar, near the plot of ground that Jacob had given to his son Joseph. Jacob’s well was there, and Jesus, tired out by his journey, was sitting by the well. It was about noon. A Samaritan woman came to draw water, and Jesus said to her, ‘Give me a drink’. (His disciples had gone to the city to buy food.)
Let’s start with the who/when/where: Here is Jesus, alone. Here is a Samaritan woman, her ethnicity stated to let us know her status as a not-quite-Jew. Samaritans were descendants of Samaria, the original Northern Kingdom of Israel which, for a time, was united with Judea in the south. But when the leaders in Jerusalem (in Judea) decreed that all worship was to take place in the temple there, and no longer in the many other sacred sites in northern Israel, a division began which eventually separated Jews from Samaritans. The familial enmity persisted and deepened into a profound suspicion in which Jews considered Samaritans second-class citizens among God’s chosen people.
The time, we are told, is noon. Those with a cultural memory of movie Westerns, where big gun fights often take place at high noon, might anticipate a clash when we hear “noon” – and certainly we will see some verbal gun play in this encounter. But what might “noon” mean for the writer of John’s Gospel? The time when the sun is highest, when the most light possible shines? The most intense time of the day? A symbol of completeness, the mid-point of the sun’s journey across the sky? What does “noon” evoke for you?
Our location is a well, on land steeped in the history of Israel, a place the patriarch Jacob had given to his best-beloved son, Joseph. Jacob, remember, was the grandson of Abraham. God blessed Jacob after he spent a night wrestling with an angel. In that struggle, Jacob was given a new name: Israel, which became the name for the nation descended from Jacob's twelve sons.
The well might ring other echoes for John’s listeners: in the story of the patriarchs of Israel, at least three marriage matches are made at wells: Abraham’s servant, sent to find a wife for Isaac, meets Rebekah at a well; Jacob meets and falls in love with Rachel at a well; Moses meets his wife at a well.
So, should we expect a love story? Jesus often encounters women in the gospels, sometimes with intimacy – emotional, and even physical in the case of the woman who anoints his feet. This won’t be an encounter of romantic love, but a profound connection will take place.
Today, in your imagination, you might approach that well. Imagine the setting. See Jesus there alone. How do you feel about Jesus being in a place where you expected to be alone? What needs do you bring to this solitary place? What kind of conversation might you have? Let it unfold, and follow where it goes. Write down any exchange that happens.
Place, time, personae – the setting is ripe for something to happen. Something always happens when we meet Jesus.
© Kate Heichler, 2026. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
The “Jesus encounter” before us this week is a rich story about a meeting between Jesus and a Samaritan woman on a hot and dusty noontime: So he came to a Samaritan city called Sychar, near the plot of ground that Jacob had given to his son Joseph. Jacob’s well was there, and Jesus, tired out by his journey, was sitting by the well. It was about noon. A Samaritan woman came to draw water, and Jesus said to her, ‘Give me a drink’. (His disciples had gone to the city to buy food.)
Let’s start with the who/when/where: Here is Jesus, alone. Here is a Samaritan woman, her ethnicity stated to let us know her status as a not-quite-Jew. Samaritans were descendants of Samaria, the original Northern Kingdom of Israel which, for a time, was united with Judea in the south. But when the leaders in Jerusalem (in Judea) decreed that all worship was to take place in the temple there, and no longer in the many other sacred sites in northern Israel, a division began which eventually separated Jews from Samaritans. The familial enmity persisted and deepened into a profound suspicion in which Jews considered Samaritans second-class citizens among God’s chosen people.
The time, we are told, is noon. Those with a cultural memory of movie Westerns, where big gun fights often take place at high noon, might anticipate a clash when we hear “noon” – and certainly we will see some verbal gun play in this encounter. But what might “noon” mean for the writer of John’s Gospel? The time when the sun is highest, when the most light possible shines? The most intense time of the day? A symbol of completeness, the mid-point of the sun’s journey across the sky? What does “noon” evoke for you?
Our location is a well, on land steeped in the history of Israel, a place the patriarch Jacob had given to his best-beloved son, Joseph. Jacob, remember, was the grandson of Abraham. God blessed Jacob after he spent a night wrestling with an angel. In that struggle, Jacob was given a new name: Israel, which became the name for the nation descended from Jacob's twelve sons.
The well might ring other echoes for John’s listeners: in the story of the patriarchs of Israel, at least three marriage matches are made at wells: Abraham’s servant, sent to find a wife for Isaac, meets Rebekah at a well; Jacob meets and falls in love with Rachel at a well; Moses meets his wife at a well.
So, should we expect a love story? Jesus often encounters women in the gospels, sometimes with intimacy – emotional, and even physical in the case of the woman who anoints his feet. This won’t be an encounter of romantic love, but a profound connection will take place.
Today, in your imagination, you might approach that well. Imagine the setting. See Jesus there alone. How do you feel about Jesus being in a place where you expected to be alone? What needs do you bring to this solitary place? What kind of conversation might you have? Let it unfold, and follow where it goes. Write down any exchange that happens.
Place, time, personae – the setting is ripe for something to happen. Something always happens when we meet Jesus.
© Kate Heichler, 2026. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
2-27-26 - For God So Loved
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
If you ever had to memorize bible verses in Sunday School, chances are you can recite this one, John 3:16, favored by sports fans and poster-makers: “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.”
This verse can evoke mixed emotions. It is a marvelous expression of God’s love for the world, a love so extravagant God willingly gave up his only son to save it. And it makes an extravagant promise – eternal life for those who believe in God’s only son. How we respond to this promise has everything to do with how much we feel the world is in need of saving, and how we feel about the “perishing” part.
For most of the Christian era, it has been generally accepted that people were lost in sin, for which the legitimate penalty was death without chance of pardon; and that God designed a remedy to meet the demands of that penalty in such a way that we could be spared it – by having his own son, the only perfect sacrifice, take on that death sentence for us. Theologians calls this “substitutionary atonement,” Jesus taking our place. Such a reading of Christ’s passion, death and resurrection is supported by this passage. Jesus says, straight out, “Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.”
I cannot debate here the thorny question of whether humankind needed saving, or if God really ordained death as the punishment for sin. I will simply assert that a God who desires not to condemn but to save is a God worthy of our worship and trust. Condemnation lies at the heart of human sinfulness; our tendency to judge and condemn other people and ourselves is one of the most corrosive attributes human beings share. And so one of the most powerful verses in the New Testament for me is Paul’s declaration, “There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” (Romans 8:1)
To be reminded that Jesus himself said God is not interested in condemning anyone is a crucial corrective to centuries of judgmental, condemnatory, narrowly legalistic, rule-based teaching by the church. Condemnation is a reflection of our sinful nature; gracious love is a reflection of God’s nature, and ours as creatures made and redeemed in the image of our extravagant God.
Is there any pattern or behavior in your life for which you continually condemn yourself? Are there other people, individuals or categories, whom you routinely find yourself condemning? Perhaps today we might bring those people and patterns into the light in prayer, asking God to show us how God’s love might lift from us the burden of condemnation – whether we’re the condemned or the condemner. What strategies might you devise to become more aware of the action of condemnation in your life? Where might you invite the winds of the Holy Spirit to blow you into greater freedom and acceptance, of yourself and others?
“For God so loved the world…” Might we ask to be so filled with that gracious love that we find ourselves loving the world in God’s name? When all is love, we need not speak of perishing and saving, only of Life everlasting.
© Kate Heichler, 2026. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
If you ever had to memorize bible verses in Sunday School, chances are you can recite this one, John 3:16, favored by sports fans and poster-makers: “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.”
This verse can evoke mixed emotions. It is a marvelous expression of God’s love for the world, a love so extravagant God willingly gave up his only son to save it. And it makes an extravagant promise – eternal life for those who believe in God’s only son. How we respond to this promise has everything to do with how much we feel the world is in need of saving, and how we feel about the “perishing” part.
For most of the Christian era, it has been generally accepted that people were lost in sin, for which the legitimate penalty was death without chance of pardon; and that God designed a remedy to meet the demands of that penalty in such a way that we could be spared it – by having his own son, the only perfect sacrifice, take on that death sentence for us. Theologians calls this “substitutionary atonement,” Jesus taking our place. Such a reading of Christ’s passion, death and resurrection is supported by this passage. Jesus says, straight out, “Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.”
I cannot debate here the thorny question of whether humankind needed saving, or if God really ordained death as the punishment for sin. I will simply assert that a God who desires not to condemn but to save is a God worthy of our worship and trust. Condemnation lies at the heart of human sinfulness; our tendency to judge and condemn other people and ourselves is one of the most corrosive attributes human beings share. And so one of the most powerful verses in the New Testament for me is Paul’s declaration, “There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” (Romans 8:1)
To be reminded that Jesus himself said God is not interested in condemning anyone is a crucial corrective to centuries of judgmental, condemnatory, narrowly legalistic, rule-based teaching by the church. Condemnation is a reflection of our sinful nature; gracious love is a reflection of God’s nature, and ours as creatures made and redeemed in the image of our extravagant God.
Is there any pattern or behavior in your life for which you continually condemn yourself? Are there other people, individuals or categories, whom you routinely find yourself condemning? Perhaps today we might bring those people and patterns into the light in prayer, asking God to show us how God’s love might lift from us the burden of condemnation – whether we’re the condemned or the condemner. What strategies might you devise to become more aware of the action of condemnation in your life? Where might you invite the winds of the Holy Spirit to blow you into greater freedom and acceptance, of yourself and others?
“For God so loved the world…” Might we ask to be so filled with that gracious love that we find ourselves loving the world in God’s name? When all is love, we need not speak of perishing and saving, only of Life everlasting.
© Kate Heichler, 2026. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
2-26-26 - Up-Lifted
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
As Jesus talks with Nicodemus, he stresses the importance of the spiritual view. Then, almost as an aside, he says something puzzling: “And just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life.”
Jesus is alluding to a story recorded in Numbers 21:4-9, about a time when God sent a plague of serpents to punish the Israelites for bellyaching on their journey to freedom: They traveled from Mount Hor along the route to the Red Sea, to go around Edom. But the people grew impatient on the way; they spoke against God and against Moses, and said, “Why have you brought us up out of Egypt to die in the wilderness? There is no bread! There is no water! And we detest this miserable food!” Then the Lord sent venomous snakes among them; they bit the people and many Israelites died. The people came to Moses and said, “We sinned when we spoke against the Lord and against you. Pray that the Lord will take the snakes away from us.” So Moses prayed for the people. The Lord said to Moses, “Make a snake and put it up on a pole; anyone who is bitten can look at it and live.” So Moses made a bronze snake and put it up on a pole. Then when anyone was bitten by a snake and looked at the bronze snake, they lived.
Putting aside our alarm at the idea of God having a murderous hissy fit in response to incessant whining, let’s focus on the remedy God proposes: To bring about healing by inviting the afflicted to contemplate a symbol of their disease. This story is one source of the universal symbol of medicine, serpents entwined on a staff. And we see here a principle often found in medicine – that healing can come from the very source of disease, as with vaccines and homeopathic remedies.
By linking this image to his own impending suffering on the cross, Jesus (or John?) suggests that the remedy for sin can be attained by reflecting upon the very image of sin, a punished, crucified man. As Paul wrote, “God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.” (II Corinthians 5:21)
A central theme of John’s Gospel is that Jesus’ glory was supremely revealed on the Cross – there was the Sign of Signs that God was doing a new thing. The Cross is central to all four Gospels, but only John sees it as a place of glorification. So let’s go with him for today. Our sacred story tells us that Jesus took upon himself the sin of the whole world as he died, crucified and forsaken. Can we see in that scene of torture any redemption and release for ourselves? Healing from the sin-sickness that can pervade our souls?
Is there an area of sin in your life you would like to see die with Jesus on the cross? As you pray today, can you imagine that aspect of your life, whether an event or a proclivity, actually being eliminated, so you can be free of it? Our promise is that God has already forgiven us – the Cross covered the future as well as the past.
In John 12:32 Jesus is quoted, “And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself.” We don’t have to contemplate a bruised and bloodied Jesus in order to be forgiven. We can draw near to the throne of grace because of what Jesus took on for us – and because now that cross is empty. We can honor him best by accepting his gift and walking in the forgiveness and wholeness he won for us.
© Kate Heichler, 2026. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
As Jesus talks with Nicodemus, he stresses the importance of the spiritual view. Then, almost as an aside, he says something puzzling: “And just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life.”
Jesus is alluding to a story recorded in Numbers 21:4-9, about a time when God sent a plague of serpents to punish the Israelites for bellyaching on their journey to freedom: They traveled from Mount Hor along the route to the Red Sea, to go around Edom. But the people grew impatient on the way; they spoke against God and against Moses, and said, “Why have you brought us up out of Egypt to die in the wilderness? There is no bread! There is no water! And we detest this miserable food!” Then the Lord sent venomous snakes among them; they bit the people and many Israelites died. The people came to Moses and said, “We sinned when we spoke against the Lord and against you. Pray that the Lord will take the snakes away from us.” So Moses prayed for the people. The Lord said to Moses, “Make a snake and put it up on a pole; anyone who is bitten can look at it and live.” So Moses made a bronze snake and put it up on a pole. Then when anyone was bitten by a snake and looked at the bronze snake, they lived.
Putting aside our alarm at the idea of God having a murderous hissy fit in response to incessant whining, let’s focus on the remedy God proposes: To bring about healing by inviting the afflicted to contemplate a symbol of their disease. This story is one source of the universal symbol of medicine, serpents entwined on a staff. And we see here a principle often found in medicine – that healing can come from the very source of disease, as with vaccines and homeopathic remedies.
By linking this image to his own impending suffering on the cross, Jesus (or John?) suggests that the remedy for sin can be attained by reflecting upon the very image of sin, a punished, crucified man. As Paul wrote, “God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.” (II Corinthians 5:21)
A central theme of John’s Gospel is that Jesus’ glory was supremely revealed on the Cross – there was the Sign of Signs that God was doing a new thing. The Cross is central to all four Gospels, but only John sees it as a place of glorification. So let’s go with him for today. Our sacred story tells us that Jesus took upon himself the sin of the whole world as he died, crucified and forsaken. Can we see in that scene of torture any redemption and release for ourselves? Healing from the sin-sickness that can pervade our souls?
Is there an area of sin in your life you would like to see die with Jesus on the cross? As you pray today, can you imagine that aspect of your life, whether an event or a proclivity, actually being eliminated, so you can be free of it? Our promise is that God has already forgiven us – the Cross covered the future as well as the past.
In John 12:32 Jesus is quoted, “And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself.” We don’t have to contemplate a bruised and bloodied Jesus in order to be forgiven. We can draw near to the throne of grace because of what Jesus took on for us – and because now that cross is empty. We can honor him best by accepting his gift and walking in the forgiveness and wholeness he won for us.
© Kate Heichler, 2026. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
2-25-26 - OS/Infinity
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Let's review the conversation.
Jesus to Nicodemus: You must be born anew to see the Kingdom of God.
Nicodemus to Jesus: How do I do that?
Jesus to Nicodemus: No one can enter the Kingdom of God without being born by water and Spirit.
If I were Nicodemus, my next word would be “Huh?” Jesus’ explanation only confuses me more: “What is born of the flesh is flesh, and what is born of the Spirit is spirit. Do not be astonished that I said to you, ‘You must be born from above.’ The wind blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.’ Nicodemus said to him, “How can these things be?” Jesus answered him, “Are you a teacher of Israel, and yet you do not understand these things?”
“No, I don’t!” I would cry. But here’s an idea that might help. Jesus is talking about operating systems, as with computers. We run on OS/Human (“flesh”). God-Life, or Kingdom life, runs on OS/God (“Spirit”). If we want to apprehend God-Life, our hardware needs to run OS/God. Human programs can run on OS/God; God programs don’t run so well on OS/Human.
If technology metaphors don’t work for you, this explanation may be worse than Jesus’. He is saying that flesh and spirit offer different ways of perceiving reality – “If I have told you about earthly things and you do not believe, how can you believe if I tell you about heavenly things?” We will need to operate from our spiritual senses if we want to dwell in God’s light and grow in our knowledge and love of God.
We are hardwired for OS/Human – our natural tendency is to trust only what we can see and touch. We need new programming to run OS/God – and the Good News is that it’s easy to download! Just accept the User Agreement (aka, baptism, or any time we say, “Yes, Lord, I believe…”) and let it install. God’s operating system doesn’t replace ours; we can run both – though that can be quite a drain on our batteries. And it can be hard to transition to OS/God – we know how to do things with our old operating system; living by faith in the spiritual realm comes with a bit of a learning curve. Just think of a time you’ve adopted new technology or new computer programs, or gone from Microsoft to Apple or vice versa - you get the analogy…
Jesus was able to run human programs through OS/God. As we download his life into ours, we become better able to run the Spirit system. And as we make the transition to using OS/God more and more, we’ll find it gradually becoming our default setting, and we’ll run more and more of our programs on it. And here’s a really nice benefit – OS/God doesn’t deplete us. It ships with a built-in power supply that recharges even as we use it. Nifty, huh?
Now that I’ve run that metaphor into the ground, how do we pray this today? Here's a question to explore: What areas of your life do you think about entirely in human terms, and in which ones do the Spirit and faith call the shots? Is there a way to bring a more spiritual perspective to the areas that feel “just human?” Can we invite the Holy Spirit to rewire us so that we perceive with spirit more and more?
I recommend transitioning our programs for perceiving, receiving and giving to OS/God. We become so much more peaceful and effective. And upgrades are free for our lifetime – and to infinity!
© Kate Heichler, 2026. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
Let's review the conversation.
Jesus to Nicodemus: You must be born anew to see the Kingdom of God.
Nicodemus to Jesus: How do I do that?
Jesus to Nicodemus: No one can enter the Kingdom of God without being born by water and Spirit.
If I were Nicodemus, my next word would be “Huh?” Jesus’ explanation only confuses me more: “What is born of the flesh is flesh, and what is born of the Spirit is spirit. Do not be astonished that I said to you, ‘You must be born from above.’ The wind blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.’ Nicodemus said to him, “How can these things be?” Jesus answered him, “Are you a teacher of Israel, and yet you do not understand these things?”
“No, I don’t!” I would cry. But here’s an idea that might help. Jesus is talking about operating systems, as with computers. We run on OS/Human (“flesh”). God-Life, or Kingdom life, runs on OS/God (“Spirit”). If we want to apprehend God-Life, our hardware needs to run OS/God. Human programs can run on OS/God; God programs don’t run so well on OS/Human.
If technology metaphors don’t work for you, this explanation may be worse than Jesus’. He is saying that flesh and spirit offer different ways of perceiving reality – “If I have told you about earthly things and you do not believe, how can you believe if I tell you about heavenly things?” We will need to operate from our spiritual senses if we want to dwell in God’s light and grow in our knowledge and love of God.
We are hardwired for OS/Human – our natural tendency is to trust only what we can see and touch. We need new programming to run OS/God – and the Good News is that it’s easy to download! Just accept the User Agreement (aka, baptism, or any time we say, “Yes, Lord, I believe…”) and let it install. God’s operating system doesn’t replace ours; we can run both – though that can be quite a drain on our batteries. And it can be hard to transition to OS/God – we know how to do things with our old operating system; living by faith in the spiritual realm comes with a bit of a learning curve. Just think of a time you’ve adopted new technology or new computer programs, or gone from Microsoft to Apple or vice versa - you get the analogy…
Jesus was able to run human programs through OS/God. As we download his life into ours, we become better able to run the Spirit system. And as we make the transition to using OS/God more and more, we’ll find it gradually becoming our default setting, and we’ll run more and more of our programs on it. And here’s a really nice benefit – OS/God doesn’t deplete us. It ships with a built-in power supply that recharges even as we use it. Nifty, huh?
Now that I’ve run that metaphor into the ground, how do we pray this today? Here's a question to explore: What areas of your life do you think about entirely in human terms, and in which ones do the Spirit and faith call the shots? Is there a way to bring a more spiritual perspective to the areas that feel “just human?” Can we invite the Holy Spirit to rewire us so that we perceive with spirit more and more?
I recommend transitioning our programs for perceiving, receiving and giving to OS/God. We become so much more peaceful and effective. And upgrades are free for our lifetime – and to infinity!
© Kate Heichler, 2026. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
2-24-26 - Water and Spirit
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
In the early church, there was a strong understanding that in baptism a new creation is birthed – so strong, in fact, that some baptismal fonts were designed to evoke wombs or even birth canals (scroll down to see some pictures!). Since many people were baptized as adults, long after their physical births, the experience was meant as a rebirth, in line with Jesus' words: “Very truly, I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God without being born anew.” Nicodemus said to him, “How can anyone be born after having grown old? Can one enter a second time into the mother’s womb and be born?” Jesus answered, “Very truly, I tell you, no one can enter the kingdom of God without being born of water and Spirit.”
Maybe Jesus is being frustratingly figurative – and Nicodemus unnecessarily literal in his question about re-entering the womb. But it does prompt Jesus to clarify what he means by “born anew,” or “born from above” (the Greek allows either). He is saying that physical birth – our mere humanity – does not equip us to see or “enter” the kingdom of God. We must be born of water and Spirit.
Water hints at baptism – John’s Gospel was likely the latest written, when baptism as a Christian ritual would already have been well established. His is the only gospel to mention Jesus baptizing anyone. And, of course, water, or fluid, is an integral part of physical birth as well – that’s partly why it is such a potent symbol of new birth for Christians, because every human comes into being in a bath of amniotic fluid. It is life outside the water, post-birth, that is the real shock.
But what does it mean to be born of Spirit? Well, even before Jesus came on the scene, John the Baptist is heard to say, “I baptize you with water; one is coming whose sandals I am unworthy to tie – he will baptize with the Holy Spirit, and with fire.” The idea of being “baptized” with the Holy Spirit suggests being bathed, immersed, drenched in the power and presence and peace of the Spirit of God. It implies spiritual purification and transformation so complete, it’s like a new birth. In fact, we claim a new creation does result from that union of Christ’s Spirit with ours in baptism.
Does your head hurt yet? Don’t worry – this conversation gets more confusing. Today let’s try to wrap our minds around the idea of being born anew or born from above. And here’s a fact: no one can get themselves born – being born is something that happens to us. It is someone else’s work. We can’t even really resist the birth process – it happens, ready or not. The only difference with spiritual birth is, we get to say “yes,” sometimes.
Have you ever had an experience of the Holy Spirit that you could feel? A sense of filling, or being surrounded with love? Sometimes there are manifestations like tingling, or our hands getting hot, or even weeping. Sometimes we feel our spirits want to praise and thank God. If you would like to know that aspect of God, simply ask the Spirit to come. “Come, Holy Spirit, I’m open…“will do just fine. Or ask someone else to pray for you to be filled with the Spirit. And don’t worry if you do or do not feel anything – sometimes we know the Spirit’s been with us later, by the fruits that result from that encounter.
Our physical birth was one event. Long, short, easy or challenging, it was eventually done and we were born. Our spiritual birth takes a lifetime. In some ways, what we are doing all our lives in this world is being born anew, being prepared for life in that Life where there is no death, only life and more life.
Ancient baptismal fonts:

© Kate Heichler, 2026. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
In the early church, there was a strong understanding that in baptism a new creation is birthed – so strong, in fact, that some baptismal fonts were designed to evoke wombs or even birth canals (scroll down to see some pictures!). Since many people were baptized as adults, long after their physical births, the experience was meant as a rebirth, in line with Jesus' words: “Very truly, I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God without being born anew.” Nicodemus said to him, “How can anyone be born after having grown old? Can one enter a second time into the mother’s womb and be born?” Jesus answered, “Very truly, I tell you, no one can enter the kingdom of God without being born of water and Spirit.”
Maybe Jesus is being frustratingly figurative – and Nicodemus unnecessarily literal in his question about re-entering the womb. But it does prompt Jesus to clarify what he means by “born anew,” or “born from above” (the Greek allows either). He is saying that physical birth – our mere humanity – does not equip us to see or “enter” the kingdom of God. We must be born of water and Spirit.
Water hints at baptism – John’s Gospel was likely the latest written, when baptism as a Christian ritual would already have been well established. His is the only gospel to mention Jesus baptizing anyone. And, of course, water, or fluid, is an integral part of physical birth as well – that’s partly why it is such a potent symbol of new birth for Christians, because every human comes into being in a bath of amniotic fluid. It is life outside the water, post-birth, that is the real shock.
But what does it mean to be born of Spirit? Well, even before Jesus came on the scene, John the Baptist is heard to say, “I baptize you with water; one is coming whose sandals I am unworthy to tie – he will baptize with the Holy Spirit, and with fire.” The idea of being “baptized” with the Holy Spirit suggests being bathed, immersed, drenched in the power and presence and peace of the Spirit of God. It implies spiritual purification and transformation so complete, it’s like a new birth. In fact, we claim a new creation does result from that union of Christ’s Spirit with ours in baptism.
Does your head hurt yet? Don’t worry – this conversation gets more confusing. Today let’s try to wrap our minds around the idea of being born anew or born from above. And here’s a fact: no one can get themselves born – being born is something that happens to us. It is someone else’s work. We can’t even really resist the birth process – it happens, ready or not. The only difference with spiritual birth is, we get to say “yes,” sometimes.
Have you ever had an experience of the Holy Spirit that you could feel? A sense of filling, or being surrounded with love? Sometimes there are manifestations like tingling, or our hands getting hot, or even weeping. Sometimes we feel our spirits want to praise and thank God. If you would like to know that aspect of God, simply ask the Spirit to come. “Come, Holy Spirit, I’m open…“will do just fine. Or ask someone else to pray for you to be filled with the Spirit. And don’t worry if you do or do not feel anything – sometimes we know the Spirit’s been with us later, by the fruits that result from that encounter.
Our physical birth was one event. Long, short, easy or challenging, it was eventually done and we were born. Our spiritual birth takes a lifetime. In some ways, what we are doing all our lives in this world is being born anew, being prepared for life in that Life where there is no death, only life and more life.
Ancient baptismal fonts:

© Kate Heichler, 2026. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
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