I went back and read my old posts.

It’s strange—everything is familiar. I can hear myself in my head, but in a brighter voice. More optimistic. Almost… cheery.

I never thought I’d describe myself with any of those adjectives, but these posts are proof. The person who wrote them was eager, softer, unaware of the world-shattering events we now collectively call “2020.”

Do I recognize her?
Yes. She makes me smile.
She was less guarded, less tired, less scarred.

And I don’t want to be condescending.
I don’t want to flatten how much she loved—those road trips, those photos, those people, that life.

I want her to live it. To savor it. To have no regrets about loving in full measure.

Because I don’t.

If that girl believed love was real, even more so do I.
I’ve lived it. Received it. Met it again and again. In unexpected places, in unexpected people.

If that girl knew Jesus was enough, even more so do I.

I’ve seen Him. I’ve been found by Him.
He sat with me in the dark. In heartbreak and betrayal unimaginable. Then he raised me back to the surface.

If that girl was certain, even more so am I.

That the temporal can still be beautiful… but only the eternal survives the fire and the flood.

So for now, we’ll keep her here. Because her hope was proven right.

– louriz