Not when I trace the working of God in boyish cursive now 15 years old…
Not when I ask a question, hear in His gentle whisper a familiar strain, and then find the original answer… Written 7 years ago, to the week. 7 years before I asked.
Not when I can understand in retrospect (as if it were the simplest thing in the world) why there was always reason to praise through bleeding days. Always.
I promise you, if you can’t trust Him with your today, it’s because you’ve already forgotten yesterday.
Write. Read. Remember.
You can’t tell the future. That’s why God has given you your past.
Go get yourself a journal.