Last night, I fell asleep around eleven, only to wake shortly after midnight.Instead of rest, memory met me.

My mind returned to ten years ago, to a hospital room on a night much like this one, where I sang worship songs in Spanish to my mother.

I remember wanting her to know, truly know, that “the walls of Jericho had fallen”, that “God had been faithful”, that Jesus is sweet and kind, and that “Jesus loves us, this I know”.

When I woke up tonight, the memory did not bring sadness.It brought vision.

It brought the quiet realization that ten years later, I am still here.Still praising.Still believing.Still holding on to the same truth that filled that dark hospital room in 2016.

So much has changed in a decade. 

Time has moved forward, as it always does. 

Life has unfolded in ways I never could have predicted. 

Yet, the most important things remain:

Praise remains. Faith remains. HE remains.

There is something sacred about recognizing that your praise was never temporary. It was not born from a fleeting moment of crisis. It became part of your foundation.

Tonight, waking after midnight was not an accident; it was a reminder.

A reminder that the songs we sang did not disappear into silence. A reminder that God’s faithfulness did not end when my mother went to Heaven — the most real place of all.A reminder that the same presence that met us there still meets me here.

This is not a memory to grieve.

It is a memory to treasure. 💜