Not this fear. Not this mess. Not this world.
God writes today.
Every day I make a mess of my life, every day that fear strikes, every day that regret comes knocking, I remember that God is still the King.
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Not this fear. Not this mess. Not this world.
God writes today.
Every day I make a mess of my life, every day that fear strikes, every day that regret comes knocking, I remember that God is still the King.
Keep finding “tomorrow” and, in one of them, there is destined to be the thing you wait for.
Sometimes, life feels like a dead-end. Stagnant. “Where the heck is life?” you ask, numbly, sitting on the edge of your bed.
Friend, let me pick up your face with a little light and love:
Read on ❤