The days are surely coming. That’s what Jeremiah says. Not “maybe.” Not “if we work hard enough.” But surely.
Some days I need these words like water. Because we are living in a world where injustice feels relentless, where headlines scream bad news, where leaders fail and the systems seem too broken to fix. Some days, I wonder if we’ll ever taste peace or see justice roll down like waters.
When I was a kid, my dad and I would go camping every year, just the two of us. My favorite part was taking a bucket down to the lakeshore. I’d watch the tadpoles dart between the reeds, scoop up fish in my little net, and sit still enough to hear the wind on the water. I like to say that’s where I first learned how to pray. Because prayer, at its heart, is paying attention.
It’s easy to separate the lakeshore and the tadpoles from the big questions of justice. But I think they’re connected. God made us as part of creation, tangled up with one another and with this earth. When we care for the land, when we pay attention to the small and fragile places, we remember what God has written on our hearts: that we belong to one another. That justice is about relationship.
Luckily, Jeremiah reminds us: justice has a story. And God is still writing it.
Jeremiah spoke these words to people who were tired, afraid, and grieving the loss of what they thought was unshakable. The temple was gone. The leaders were corrupt. The people were scattered. And into that mess, God says: I’m not done. I’m writing my law of love on your hearts. I’m making a new covenant with you—not because you earned it, but because my love for you will never quit.
Friends, our church is in a season of transition. New faces, new rhythms, new questions. And the world outside our doors is shifting too. But I believe that in this very moment, God’s promise is still holding us steady. Justice is a story we step into.
Our call is to keep showing up with tenderness and courage. To speak truth in love. To build a community where hearts are safe and justice is real.
The days are surely coming. Even now. Even here.
Let’s keep walking toward them—together.
Peace,
Pastor Katie