You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Peter got out of the boat. He took a few steps, actually walking on water. He was doing fine, focused on Jesus… until he felt the wind and remembered this was technically impossible. Then he started to sink. So Peter got out of the boat, started walking on the water, and came towards Jesus. But when he noticed the strong wind, he became frightened, and beginning to sink, he cried out, “Lord, save me!” Jesus immediately reached out his hand and caught him, saying to him, “You of little faith, why did you doubt?”
“Why did you doubt?” I told a story yesterday about an indigenous community that took Jesus’ stories at face value and did what he did in the gospels, not considering it miraculous. I don't know if that story is true. But I do remember reading in one of Madeleine L’Engle’s autobiographies that, as a small child at her family’s country place, she made a game of going down the stairs without touching them. She clearly remembered doing that, and she did it until she learned it was impossible
What makes us doubt, aside from “knowledge,” is the strong winds. It’s adversity, and the times we’ve been wrong, and the voices of people who say you’re crazy to believe you can do this or say that, that it’s nuts to be a person of faith. This does not mean that we should do everything we think of – but we should respond to the Spirit’s promptings. Peter stepped out onto the water at Jesus’ command, and because Jesus was out there waiting for him.
The risks we should consider are ones we take as steps of faith, in relationship with the One who has told us all things are possible. That One is also at hand to save us when we start to sink. Most activities of faith involve some stepping out and some sinking… at those times, like Peter, we cry out for Jesus’ hand, and it is there. The crying out and trusting that God will be with us are also acts of faith. Our whole faith life “out of the boat” is one we live in relationship to God, not as solo operators.
Was there a time in your life when you really stepped out, felt called to something, and went forward, not sure if you would be supported? Did you ever falter? What was it that caused you to doubt? Did you start to sink? What was your response? What was the activity of God in you at that time? We need these memories to strengthen us for action now.
What faith activity do you feel called to walk out into at this time in your life? What would you need to feel or know in order to take that first step onto the water? Do you need a stronger sense that Jesus is with you, waiting for you, ready to help you if you falter? That's a good prayer for today...
The message our culture gives is often, “You’re on your own, sink or swim.” Jesus’ message is, “Sink or walk… I will be with you, even when you feel yourself sinking.” Whatever risks of faith we feel called to take, we can step out, keeping our eyes fixed on Jesus, even as the winds and the waves try to claim our attention. One step after another, fixed on his power and love, and we can cross oceans.
© 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.
8-6-26 - Stepping Out
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
I was told once of an indigenous community in Africa evangelized by missionaries. These visitors told them some key stories about Jesus, but then took sick and died. The people of the tribe were open to the power of God as the missionaries described it, and took the stories at face value. For years, reportedly, they routinely crossed rivers and streams by walking on the water – until other missionaries came along and explained that it was just a story. Then they couldn’t do it anymore.
Three of our four gospels record Jesus walking on water. Whatever we make of the story, it seems to have been foundational to the earliest Christians, one of many stories that reveal the Kingdom life of God displayed in Jesus the Christ. Okay, sure, but he was Jesus. If you buy Jesus being the Christ, the anointed Son of God, it’s not hard to buy that he walked on water.
Matthew, however, adds a detail that brings the story closer to us. When the disciples in the boat see Jesus walking on the sea and are terrified, he says, “Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.” And Peter responds in a particularly fearless way: Peter answered him, “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.” He said, “Come.” So Peter got out of the boat, started walking on the water, and came towards Jesus.
Now the pressure is on. If Peter can walk on the water at Jesus’ invitation, what is to prevent the rest of us? Why don’t we try it? Is it because we “know” we cannot, and that knowledge provided by our physical senses so overrides any spiritual conviction we might have? If we didn't know that this is "just a story," would our faith be less inhibited?
Just a story? This is quite a story. And it’s one of those we can run with, whether we take it as reported fact or spiritual metaphor. Even as metaphor, it can bear our weight. Because stepping out in faith, taking risks we believe we’ve been called by God to take, these are intrinsic to the Christian life. I don’t believe any follower of Christ is called to just stay in her boat, come hell or high water. There are times when we’re all called to get out of the boat and take a step on the water towards Jesus. And then another.
Yesterday we were invited to identify some the “headwinds” facing us. Those challenges may or may not be related to the areas in which we’re sensing a nudge to take a faith risk. So today let's ask: What seas do you feel called to step out upon? A different job? Retirement? New relationship? Ending an old relationship? Greater ministry responsibility? Living on less? Living healthier? Less dependency on someone or some thing? More dependency?
This is also a question that churches must constantly ask: where is Jesus calling us to step out of the boat of our comfort or complacency and walk with him on the water? Might that mean giving up some ministries? Taking on new ones? Worshipping differently? Joining in community with people who are different from us?
The answers will vary according to the person and the community. The constant is this: No one is asked to step out of the boat onto a stormy sea by himself. "So Peter got out of the boat, started walking on the water, and came towards Jesus.” And Jesus stayed right there with him. If we step out, we step out with Jesus. What more do we need, than courage, our shaky faith, and all the power in the universe?
Jesus said, "Come.”
© 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.
I was told once of an indigenous community in Africa evangelized by missionaries. These visitors told them some key stories about Jesus, but then took sick and died. The people of the tribe were open to the power of God as the missionaries described it, and took the stories at face value. For years, reportedly, they routinely crossed rivers and streams by walking on the water – until other missionaries came along and explained that it was just a story. Then they couldn’t do it anymore.
Three of our four gospels record Jesus walking on water. Whatever we make of the story, it seems to have been foundational to the earliest Christians, one of many stories that reveal the Kingdom life of God displayed in Jesus the Christ. Okay, sure, but he was Jesus. If you buy Jesus being the Christ, the anointed Son of God, it’s not hard to buy that he walked on water.
Matthew, however, adds a detail that brings the story closer to us. When the disciples in the boat see Jesus walking on the sea and are terrified, he says, “Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.” And Peter responds in a particularly fearless way: Peter answered him, “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.” He said, “Come.” So Peter got out of the boat, started walking on the water, and came towards Jesus.
Now the pressure is on. If Peter can walk on the water at Jesus’ invitation, what is to prevent the rest of us? Why don’t we try it? Is it because we “know” we cannot, and that knowledge provided by our physical senses so overrides any spiritual conviction we might have? If we didn't know that this is "just a story," would our faith be less inhibited?
Just a story? This is quite a story. And it’s one of those we can run with, whether we take it as reported fact or spiritual metaphor. Even as metaphor, it can bear our weight. Because stepping out in faith, taking risks we believe we’ve been called by God to take, these are intrinsic to the Christian life. I don’t believe any follower of Christ is called to just stay in her boat, come hell or high water. There are times when we’re all called to get out of the boat and take a step on the water towards Jesus. And then another.
Yesterday we were invited to identify some the “headwinds” facing us. Those challenges may or may not be related to the areas in which we’re sensing a nudge to take a faith risk. So today let's ask: What seas do you feel called to step out upon? A different job? Retirement? New relationship? Ending an old relationship? Greater ministry responsibility? Living on less? Living healthier? Less dependency on someone or some thing? More dependency?
This is also a question that churches must constantly ask: where is Jesus calling us to step out of the boat of our comfort or complacency and walk with him on the water? Might that mean giving up some ministries? Taking on new ones? Worshipping differently? Joining in community with people who are different from us?
The answers will vary according to the person and the community. The constant is this: No one is asked to step out of the boat onto a stormy sea by himself. "So Peter got out of the boat, started walking on the water, and came towards Jesus.” And Jesus stayed right there with him. If we step out, we step out with Jesus. What more do we need, than courage, our shaky faith, and all the power in the universe?
Jesus said, "Come.”
© 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.
8-5-26 - Take Heart
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
I am not particularly “open” to the spirit world, thankfully; I prefer the company of the living. But once I experienced what seemed to me to be the strong presence of God in a room where I was praying, and I confess I was terrified. Intrusions of the spiritual Other, even when holy, often inspire fear. Most angelic encounters recorded in the bible start with the angel saying, “Do not be afraid…”
And so it was on that lake in the middle of the night: And early in the morning he came walking towards them on the lake. But when the disciples saw him walking on the lake, they were terrified, saying, “It is a ghost!” And they cried out in fear. But immediately Jesus spoke to them and said, “Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid."
What was more frightening, I wonder – the sight of Jesus strolling on the surface of the water, or that he might be a ghost? Neither notion is comforting. Apparitions from the beyond are no more unsettling than seeing the seemingly immutable laws of nature overturned. We expect reality to behave in the ways we have observed; the supernatural messes with our filing system.
And yet, an intrusion of the Other into our neatly categorized world is exactly what we celebrate as Christians: the cataclysmic intrusion of God into human form and life in Christ, and in these days after Pentecost, the constant intrusion of the Holy Spirit in our lives, and selves. Sometimes those encounters are powerful enough to inspire awe in us – and occasionally even fear. So these words of Jesus are for us, too: “Take heart. Take heart, I am here.”
In our story, the disciples were coping with high waves and a nasty headwind pushing them further and further from shore. “Take heart” was Jesus’ invitation to trust and allow his peace to flow into them, even if he did speak these words from outside the boat, standing on the stormy sea.
What winds are you sailing into in your life at present, keeping you from getting to shore, to any kind of stability and peace? Any waves threatening to swamp your boat? Today in prayer imagine yourself in a storm-tossed boat, bringing to mind specifically those things that are causing the wind and the waves. And then let’s see Jesus outside the boat, walking on the water toward us, peaceful, calm, in control. Does knowing he’s right there change how we feel about these challenges? Invite him into each one.
May we today enjoy a holy intrusion into our quotidian routines. I hope the Holy Spirit shows up, bidden or not, and lets us know he’s there. I hope she still the storms in us, and gives the assurance we need that God does not stay out of our lives, but comes as close as we will allow, unbound by the limits we live with. As we allow God to come closer still, we might find ourselves less bound by those limits too.
© 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.
I am not particularly “open” to the spirit world, thankfully; I prefer the company of the living. But once I experienced what seemed to me to be the strong presence of God in a room where I was praying, and I confess I was terrified. Intrusions of the spiritual Other, even when holy, often inspire fear. Most angelic encounters recorded in the bible start with the angel saying, “Do not be afraid…”
And so it was on that lake in the middle of the night: And early in the morning he came walking towards them on the lake. But when the disciples saw him walking on the lake, they were terrified, saying, “It is a ghost!” And they cried out in fear. But immediately Jesus spoke to them and said, “Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid."
What was more frightening, I wonder – the sight of Jesus strolling on the surface of the water, or that he might be a ghost? Neither notion is comforting. Apparitions from the beyond are no more unsettling than seeing the seemingly immutable laws of nature overturned. We expect reality to behave in the ways we have observed; the supernatural messes with our filing system.
And yet, an intrusion of the Other into our neatly categorized world is exactly what we celebrate as Christians: the cataclysmic intrusion of God into human form and life in Christ, and in these days after Pentecost, the constant intrusion of the Holy Spirit in our lives, and selves. Sometimes those encounters are powerful enough to inspire awe in us – and occasionally even fear. So these words of Jesus are for us, too: “Take heart. Take heart, I am here.”
In our story, the disciples were coping with high waves and a nasty headwind pushing them further and further from shore. “Take heart” was Jesus’ invitation to trust and allow his peace to flow into them, even if he did speak these words from outside the boat, standing on the stormy sea.
What winds are you sailing into in your life at present, keeping you from getting to shore, to any kind of stability and peace? Any waves threatening to swamp your boat? Today in prayer imagine yourself in a storm-tossed boat, bringing to mind specifically those things that are causing the wind and the waves. And then let’s see Jesus outside the boat, walking on the water toward us, peaceful, calm, in control. Does knowing he’s right there change how we feel about these challenges? Invite him into each one.
May we today enjoy a holy intrusion into our quotidian routines. I hope the Holy Spirit shows up, bidden or not, and lets us know he’s there. I hope she still the storms in us, and gives the assurance we need that God does not stay out of our lives, but comes as close as we will allow, unbound by the limits we live with. As we allow God to come closer still, we might find ourselves less bound by those limits too.
© 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.
8-4-26 - Missing the Boat
You can listen to this reflection here.
My to-do list might be considered a source of abundance in my life, since it truly never runs out. It also provides the best excuses for not taking time away from the workload to relax, refresh, and simply “be.” I am deeply wired to feel gratification by getting the next thing done – and there’s always more.
In this week’s gospel story, we see Jesus make the healthy choice to miss the boat, sending the disciples on without him. Yet somehow he manages to arrive when needed: When evening came, he was there alone, but by this time the boat, battered by the waves, was far from the land, for the wind was against them. And early in the morning he came walking towards them on the lake.
Easy for him, eh? Sure, if we could teleport ourselves through space, or skip across bodies of water, we’d make up for lost time too. It seems we can’t do either of those things, being more constrained by space and time and elements than Jesus appeared to have been.
But I have often found the principle works just the same. When I take the time I need for prayer and self-care, somehow deadlines get met, or they shift due to other, unforeseen factors – or I miss them and find out it’s okay. At my best, when I feel the wind of the Spirit in my sails, I feel that God has the timing under control and I just have to walk in the “good works God has prepared beforehand for me.” Things I thought I should have done ages ago work out in a way that they could not possibly have before this moment, or they prove not to have been as necessary as I thought.
But we only know that after the fact. Somehow we have to keep navigating the fine line between our agency as servants of God, and the power of God to accomplish what God wills. Some say, “Work as though it’s all up to you; pray as though it’s all up to God.” I prefer, “Pray, because it’s all up to God, and work as the Spirit guides you.” And if you don’t feel any guidance, go forward as you want – if we are faithful, God will make sure the pieces line up in the end. Somehow.
When have you taken time for yourself, and didn’t do something you were supposed to do, or missed being somewhere you were supposed to be? Did the thing get done anyway? Did you connect with the right people later? Was there any “coincidence” in it coming out right?
Does your spirit yearn for some restorative time now? Are your obligations keeping you from slaking that thirst? What would it look like if you just took the time and watched to see how the Spirit gets you across the water to where you’re needed?
In these summer days, I want to be outside, and am not always as focused on work as I “should.” But it’s what my spirit craves, and 'tis the season for outside. I do work out there…and listen to the birds and watch the squirrels leap from branch to branch and admire the growing tomatoes and herbs. I don’t know what boats I might be missing but I choose to believe I’ll be where I’m supposed to be when. Certainly I’ll be less stressed.
One of my favorite cartoons shows a person sitting contentedly at a desk, over the caption, “I love deadlines. I love to watch them fly by.” Can I get an amen?
© 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.
My to-do list might be considered a source of abundance in my life, since it truly never runs out. It also provides the best excuses for not taking time away from the workload to relax, refresh, and simply “be.” I am deeply wired to feel gratification by getting the next thing done – and there’s always more.
In this week’s gospel story, we see Jesus make the healthy choice to miss the boat, sending the disciples on without him. Yet somehow he manages to arrive when needed: When evening came, he was there alone, but by this time the boat, battered by the waves, was far from the land, for the wind was against them. And early in the morning he came walking towards them on the lake.
Easy for him, eh? Sure, if we could teleport ourselves through space, or skip across bodies of water, we’d make up for lost time too. It seems we can’t do either of those things, being more constrained by space and time and elements than Jesus appeared to have been.
But I have often found the principle works just the same. When I take the time I need for prayer and self-care, somehow deadlines get met, or they shift due to other, unforeseen factors – or I miss them and find out it’s okay. At my best, when I feel the wind of the Spirit in my sails, I feel that God has the timing under control and I just have to walk in the “good works God has prepared beforehand for me.” Things I thought I should have done ages ago work out in a way that they could not possibly have before this moment, or they prove not to have been as necessary as I thought.
But we only know that after the fact. Somehow we have to keep navigating the fine line between our agency as servants of God, and the power of God to accomplish what God wills. Some say, “Work as though it’s all up to you; pray as though it’s all up to God.” I prefer, “Pray, because it’s all up to God, and work as the Spirit guides you.” And if you don’t feel any guidance, go forward as you want – if we are faithful, God will make sure the pieces line up in the end. Somehow.
When have you taken time for yourself, and didn’t do something you were supposed to do, or missed being somewhere you were supposed to be? Did the thing get done anyway? Did you connect with the right people later? Was there any “coincidence” in it coming out right?
Does your spirit yearn for some restorative time now? Are your obligations keeping you from slaking that thirst? What would it look like if you just took the time and watched to see how the Spirit gets you across the water to where you’re needed?
In these summer days, I want to be outside, and am not always as focused on work as I “should.” But it’s what my spirit craves, and 'tis the season for outside. I do work out there…and listen to the birds and watch the squirrels leap from branch to branch and admire the growing tomatoes and herbs. I don’t know what boats I might be missing but I choose to believe I’ll be where I’m supposed to be when. Certainly I’ll be less stressed.
One of my favorite cartoons shows a person sitting contentedly at a desk, over the caption, “I love deadlines. I love to watch them fly by.” Can I get an amen?
© 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.
8-3-26 - Time Apart
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Sooner or later, Jesus was going to get that “alone time” he’d been wanting. It came a day later than planned, a full day of healing, teaching and miraculously feeding thousands of people – but then he took his retreat. Once the leftovers were collected, “Immediately he made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead to the other side, while he dismissed the crowds. And after he had dismissed the crowds, he went up the mountain by himself to pray."
Being a conduit of the power of God takes energy out of a person, even Jesus. The need to rest, recharge, reconnect with the Spirit of God is as important as the visible ministry we do, maybe more so. We can do a kind of recharging in community, especially over a meal and a celebration, but for most people, our deep spirit is best renewed in solitude.
Solitude is hard to find in our multiply-connected, always “on” world. But there’s more to it than finding alone space. Many of us live with a malaise that makes it hard to seek quiet time. Our constant input, 24-7 connectivity provides ample distraction to avoid darker feelings, disappointments, mistakes, hurts we have inflicted or received, loss and pain.
We all know about distracted driving; maybe we should also wrestle with distracted living, moving too fast to notice what and who is around us, rushing to the next thing that will make us feel connected, filling every moment and part of our lives so we don’t have to face the emptiness inside.
What happens when you get time alone? Are you able to sit quietly with yourself, or do you read, download, check texts, emails, social media, google questions and watch funny pet videos? I’m afraid I too often do puzzles or pay bills; sitting quietly with myself or with Jesus can be a great challenge. I run back to my to-do list at the drop of a hat. The to-do list makes me feel filled and fulfilled, recognized, connected. Who wants to sit in silence before the vastness that is God?
Well, Jesus did… and he knew he needed that in order to live fully into his identity. Granted, he had a relationship with the Father; he didn’t need to forge one. But in his humanity he was as vulnerable as we are to the games of ego and gratification and regard. One way to live out of his true identity and not the false ones the world tried lure him into was to break away on his own sometimes for prayer and solitude. Same goes for us.
Do you do that every week? Every day? Might we covenant together to spend about ten minutes off the grid each day this week, sitting with the silence and stillness, uncomfortable as it might be? The only way to reset our priorities is to sit before God, still and waiting and expectant. That is hard for me! If it’s easy for you, you are blessed indeed. Share your secret with someone.
Here’s a prayer we can try: “Come, Holy Spirit. Quiet my mind, stir up my soul. Breathe your life into me and let me come into stillness. Let me hear what I need to hear, discern what I need to let go of. Renew my spirit, refresh my mind, and re-center me so that, like a record on a turntable, your song plays through me truly, without distortion, for those around me to hear.”
Don't put any "shoulds" on it. Just call it “me time.” It’s really “Me and God” time, but no one needs to know that…
© 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.
Sooner or later, Jesus was going to get that “alone time” he’d been wanting. It came a day later than planned, a full day of healing, teaching and miraculously feeding thousands of people – but then he took his retreat. Once the leftovers were collected, “Immediately he made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead to the other side, while he dismissed the crowds. And after he had dismissed the crowds, he went up the mountain by himself to pray."
Being a conduit of the power of God takes energy out of a person, even Jesus. The need to rest, recharge, reconnect with the Spirit of God is as important as the visible ministry we do, maybe more so. We can do a kind of recharging in community, especially over a meal and a celebration, but for most people, our deep spirit is best renewed in solitude.
Solitude is hard to find in our multiply-connected, always “on” world. But there’s more to it than finding alone space. Many of us live with a malaise that makes it hard to seek quiet time. Our constant input, 24-7 connectivity provides ample distraction to avoid darker feelings, disappointments, mistakes, hurts we have inflicted or received, loss and pain.
We all know about distracted driving; maybe we should also wrestle with distracted living, moving too fast to notice what and who is around us, rushing to the next thing that will make us feel connected, filling every moment and part of our lives so we don’t have to face the emptiness inside.
What happens when you get time alone? Are you able to sit quietly with yourself, or do you read, download, check texts, emails, social media, google questions and watch funny pet videos? I’m afraid I too often do puzzles or pay bills; sitting quietly with myself or with Jesus can be a great challenge. I run back to my to-do list at the drop of a hat. The to-do list makes me feel filled and fulfilled, recognized, connected. Who wants to sit in silence before the vastness that is God?
Well, Jesus did… and he knew he needed that in order to live fully into his identity. Granted, he had a relationship with the Father; he didn’t need to forge one. But in his humanity he was as vulnerable as we are to the games of ego and gratification and regard. One way to live out of his true identity and not the false ones the world tried lure him into was to break away on his own sometimes for prayer and solitude. Same goes for us.
Do you do that every week? Every day? Might we covenant together to spend about ten minutes off the grid each day this week, sitting with the silence and stillness, uncomfortable as it might be? The only way to reset our priorities is to sit before God, still and waiting and expectant. That is hard for me! If it’s easy for you, you are blessed indeed. Share your secret with someone.
Here’s a prayer we can try: “Come, Holy Spirit. Quiet my mind, stir up my soul. Breathe your life into me and let me come into stillness. Let me hear what I need to hear, discern what I need to let go of. Renew my spirit, refresh my mind, and re-center me so that, like a record on a turntable, your song plays through me truly, without distortion, for those around me to hear.”
Don't put any "shoulds" on it. Just call it “me time.” It’s really “Me and God” time, but no one needs to know that…
© 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.
7-31-26 - Unexpected Feasts
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
When I was just out of college, my parents lived in Turkey. I spent two months there one summer. One day we drove along the Black Sea coast and, after lots of sight-seeing, I wanted to go to the beach. We checked out several before finding one that was secluded and beautiful. Yet no sooner had we settled on the sand and gone for a swim than a group of young men trooped down the hill and set up nearby. So much for secluded. I was very self-conscious, and hoped they’d leave us alone. No such luck – soon one came over and began talking to my father in broken English. It turns out they were soldiers on a day off, and they were making lunch, and would we please join them. I shot my dad a look that said, “Please, no! I do not want to eat with a bunch of strange men we can’t even communicate with! In my bathing suit!” He did try to decline, but Turks are known for their hospitality and are hard to say no to… next thing I knew we had gotten up and gone over to their little camp.
What a lot of activity there was: a couple of guys had a fire going and were preparing to grill some wonderful spiced meat köfte on skewers. Another guy was chopping cucumbers into a pan of lettuce and tomatoes. And there were several loaves of warm ekmek, wonderful Turkish bread. Though we protested that we’d just had lunch, heaping plates were presented to us anyway. We ate. I cannot remember ever having food as good as that. It has remained in my memory as one of the great feasts of my life, social awkwardness, language gaps and all.
That unexpected feast has also stayed with me as an icon of the feasts God prepares for us to stumble onto every day of our lives. No one in that crowd of over 5,000 was there for food – they had come for healing, for hope, for wisdom, maybe to catch a glimpse of this Jesus guy, to tell folks at home they’d been there. But God had a feast in store for them.
God has feasts in store for us as well, lots of them. They might be large or small, material or spiritual or both. We have feasts of conversation and books and music, good work and hopefulness. And of course many feasts of food, one of the best ways to experience the goodness and abundant generosity of God. Each morning in summertime I cut into a plump, ripe, perfectly sweet peach, sprinkle a few luscious blueberries on top, and enjoy a feast. Whatever perceived “not-enough-ness” I may encounter later in the day, I have been reminded from the start that God is in the feasting business. As the prophet Isaiah spoke long ago:
Thus says the Lord: "Ho, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters; and you that have no money, come, buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk without money and without price. Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread, and your labor for that which does not satisfy? Listen carefully to me, and eat what is good, and delight yourselves in rich food.” (Isaiah 55:1-2; also read this Sunday)
When I was just out of college, my parents lived in Turkey. I spent two months there one summer. One day we drove along the Black Sea coast and, after lots of sight-seeing, I wanted to go to the beach. We checked out several before finding one that was secluded and beautiful. Yet no sooner had we settled on the sand and gone for a swim than a group of young men trooped down the hill and set up nearby. So much for secluded. I was very self-conscious, and hoped they’d leave us alone. No such luck – soon one came over and began talking to my father in broken English. It turns out they were soldiers on a day off, and they were making lunch, and would we please join them. I shot my dad a look that said, “Please, no! I do not want to eat with a bunch of strange men we can’t even communicate with! In my bathing suit!” He did try to decline, but Turks are known for their hospitality and are hard to say no to… next thing I knew we had gotten up and gone over to their little camp.
What a lot of activity there was: a couple of guys had a fire going and were preparing to grill some wonderful spiced meat köfte on skewers. Another guy was chopping cucumbers into a pan of lettuce and tomatoes. And there were several loaves of warm ekmek, wonderful Turkish bread. Though we protested that we’d just had lunch, heaping plates were presented to us anyway. We ate. I cannot remember ever having food as good as that. It has remained in my memory as one of the great feasts of my life, social awkwardness, language gaps and all.
That unexpected feast has also stayed with me as an icon of the feasts God prepares for us to stumble onto every day of our lives. No one in that crowd of over 5,000 was there for food – they had come for healing, for hope, for wisdom, maybe to catch a glimpse of this Jesus guy, to tell folks at home they’d been there. But God had a feast in store for them.
God has feasts in store for us as well, lots of them. They might be large or small, material or spiritual or both. We have feasts of conversation and books and music, good work and hopefulness. And of course many feasts of food, one of the best ways to experience the goodness and abundant generosity of God. Each morning in summertime I cut into a plump, ripe, perfectly sweet peach, sprinkle a few luscious blueberries on top, and enjoy a feast. Whatever perceived “not-enough-ness” I may encounter later in the day, I have been reminded from the start that God is in the feasting business. As the prophet Isaiah spoke long ago:
Thus says the Lord: "Ho, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters; and you that have no money, come, buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk without money and without price. Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread, and your labor for that which does not satisfy? Listen carefully to me, and eat what is good, and delight yourselves in rich food.” (Isaiah 55:1-2; also read this Sunday)
- What are you spending money on and laboring for that does not satisfy?
- What feasts have you declined, or not recognized until later?
- Do you associate God with feasting or with fasting?
- How might we better balance the two?
We will live differently if we expect feasts. We will give differently if we expect feasts. We will love differently, and perhaps even allow ourselves to be loved more deeply. The invitation couldn’t be clearer: “O, taste and see that the Lord is good.” (Psalm 34:8)
© 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.
© 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.
7-30-26 - God's Enough
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
I’m always wary when there is a lot of food left after a dinner party, concerned that the guests didn’t really like it. At the same time, empty serving dishes hint that I did not make enough; leftovers are evidence there was enough and to spare. Abundance. So it was that day of Jesus’ Big Picnic: “And all ate and were filled; and they took up what was left over of the broken pieces, twelve baskets full.”
How often do we find ourselves expecting the bare minimum, when God has blessed us with abundance? Vats and vats of water turned to finest wine, thousands fed on what seemed much too little, yet yielding baskets of leftovers. I can just hear Jesus saying to his followers, “Get it? Do you understand how things work in the Life of God?”
I do believe abundance is a principle of God-Life, one we are invited to get used to, even expect. I have also found that sometimes God’s “enough” is just enough, with not a lot to spare. Church budgets with projected deficits come out close to even, but there are no windfall bequests. Just enough people show up to do a work project to get it done. So often, things just work, and there is enough, more than expected, but just enough, not what we'd call abundance.
It is always risky to try to extrapolate the plans of God from our small experiences, but perhaps In these situations, the provision of way too much would invite us to complacency, where just “enough” keeps us faithful and alert. Or maybe we crave more than God thinks we need. Whether enough or more than enough, one thing I’m pretty sure of is that God is not in the business of scarcity.
Whether we have leftovers for a week or just enough to cover our needs, it is all provision from the One who made us. As we grow in recognizing and appreciating God's gifts, we can live and love with the kind of abundance that is God's hallmark. As we receive, so let us give. As Jesus said, "A good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over, will be poured into your lap. For with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.” (Luke 6:38)
© 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.
I’m always wary when there is a lot of food left after a dinner party, concerned that the guests didn’t really like it. At the same time, empty serving dishes hint that I did not make enough; leftovers are evidence there was enough and to spare. Abundance. So it was that day of Jesus’ Big Picnic: “And all ate and were filled; and they took up what was left over of the broken pieces, twelve baskets full.”
How often do we find ourselves expecting the bare minimum, when God has blessed us with abundance? Vats and vats of water turned to finest wine, thousands fed on what seemed much too little, yet yielding baskets of leftovers. I can just hear Jesus saying to his followers, “Get it? Do you understand how things work in the Life of God?”
I do believe abundance is a principle of God-Life, one we are invited to get used to, even expect. I have also found that sometimes God’s “enough” is just enough, with not a lot to spare. Church budgets with projected deficits come out close to even, but there are no windfall bequests. Just enough people show up to do a work project to get it done. So often, things just work, and there is enough, more than expected, but just enough, not what we'd call abundance.
It is always risky to try to extrapolate the plans of God from our small experiences, but perhaps In these situations, the provision of way too much would invite us to complacency, where just “enough” keeps us faithful and alert. Or maybe we crave more than God thinks we need. Whether enough or more than enough, one thing I’m pretty sure of is that God is not in the business of scarcity.
- What do you fear you will not have enough of?
- What do you have just enough of?
- Where do you see abundance?
Exploring these questions can be a good spiritual diagnostic exercise, giving us clues as to where our trust in God is weaker or stronger. Then we can invite the Spirit to build us up where we need it, and pray for the grace to let go where we’re clutching. A similar examination of how and when and to whom we find ourselves giving abundantly, and where we give with a tight fist, or not at all, provides a helpful inventory of our relationships and anxiety levels. What circumstances prompt you to give generously?
Whether we have leftovers for a week or just enough to cover our needs, it is all provision from the One who made us. As we grow in recognizing and appreciating God's gifts, we can live and love with the kind of abundance that is God's hallmark. As we receive, so let us give. As Jesus said, "A good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over, will be poured into your lap. For with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.” (Luke 6:38)
© 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.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)