In these days. In my listening days, He has been feeding me from His Word. The tried-and-true prose that fills my spiritual hunger. Words of His promises. His kindness. His grace. His care. His provision.
His love. Oh, His love. That deep and wide love. The love that is a banner over me. The love that leads a prodigal home and a blind man to see. The love that makes an evangelist of a harlot and a preacher of a persecutor.
And in these days. In my listening days, I store them up in my spirit.
Least I forget… on my writing days. My talking days. My stormy days. My weak days.
On these days they are no less true than today.
All my days were written in your book before one of them came to be. (Psalm 139:16)