God, I know that I am a sinner. And I rightly deserve all of its consequences. But because of your love for me, you sacrificed your son, Jesus, to save me from my sin. Thank you for this. Today I place my trust in Jesus as my Lord and Savior. Please cause me to be able to live out this prayer. Amen.
She woke next to pile of pillows and a blanket that knows her every goodnight and drunken sleep.
She settles a half opened eye at the time, and realizes it's still dark outside, that she could still force her eyes to close.
But no, the time on her phone blurred her still tired eyes, again, with tears for the pain she sorely feels.
She brushes off the poignant memory of an illusion she willingly believed for months and months.
It's going to be a good day, she chants in silence. It's a good day to start forgiving and living again.
She knows it's a long shot to redemption. But it's a road she is most willing to take.
I can almost feel Christmas. It does not feel as festive now as it was growing up but it still gives a nostalgic hint of how it was to truly be happy. I will be happy. Everyday is a good day to start being happy.
“Memories are what warm you up from the inside. But they're also what tear you apart.”
― Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore