Here in the Midwest, November can be brutal. It strips the trees down to the studs and leaves the landscape looking barren and empty. But it’s also a beautiful kind of grace. We spend so much of our lives obsessively curating the harvest — hustling for the next degree, the next relationship, the next dopamine hit. We are addicted to the future. 

But if you trace the sweeping narrative of the Bible, you’ll notice a recurring theme. One of the most dangerous things a human being can do isn’t failing — it’s forgetting. 

Look at Psalm 143:5: “I remember the days of old. I ponder all your great works and think about what you have done.”

Throughout the Hebrew Scriptures, remembering (in Hebrew, the word is “zakar”) means more than passively recalling a file in the mind. It’s an active choice. It’s dragging a past truth into your present reality to alter your future. In Joshua 3, when the Israelites crossed the Jordan River, God didn’t tell them to take a collective deep breath and move on; He told them to stack heavy stones. Why? Because the human heart suffers from spiritual amnesia. We are prone to wander. We experience the miraculous and staggering grace of the God of all space and time, and before long, we’re complaining about the manna.

It’s crazy, isn’t it? We get so paralyzed by the anxiety of what’s next that we completely forget who has been holding us the whole time. We trade His profound peace for cheap, manufactured panic.

This is exactly where Jesus meets us. He doesn’t stand at the finish line tapping His watch, demanding we get our lives together. He steps right into the messy, chaotic middle of our story. On the night He was betrayed, He could have handed His disciples a complex philosophy. Instead, He broke bread and poured wine. He gave them a tangible meal and said, “Do this in remembrance of me” (Luke 22:19). 

This month, stop striving for a minute. Let the landscape be bare. The Creator of the universe is actively holding the very atoms of your life together. You don’t have to manufacture your own destiny today. You just have to remember. Look back at the stones you’ve stacked. Trace the relentless faithfulness of God through your history. Because when you remember how fiercely He has pursued you in the past, the anxiety of the future finally starts to lose its teeth.

Dig Deeper

Read Joshua 4:1-7. What are the “stones of remembrance” in your own life? This week, instead of asking God for something new, take out a journal and write down three specific moments where God showed up in your past. How does remembering His faithfulness reframe your current worries and anxieties?

Prayer

Lord Jesus, forgive me for my spiritual amnesia. I get so caught up in the anxiousness of tomorrow that I forget the staggering grace You’ve shown me yesterday. Help me to stop striving, to keep my eyes on Your faithfulness, and to rest in Your endless love for me today. Amen.

Daily Readings

• November 1: Psalm 77:11-12
• November 2: Deuteronomy 8:2
• November 3: Isaiah 46:9
• November 4: Psalm 103:2-3
• November 5: 1 Chronicles 16:11-12
• November 6: Psalm 105:4-5
• November 7: Revelation 2:5
• November 8: Joshua 4:6-7
• November 9: 1 Samuel 7:12
• November 10: Genesis 35:14-15
• November 11: Exodus 12:14
• November 12: Deuteronomy 6:6-8
• November 13: Luke 22:19
• November 14: 1 Corinthians 11:23-24
• November 15: Psalm 46:10
• November 16: Matthew 11:28-29
• November 17: Exodus 14:14
• November 18: Isaiah 30:15
• November 19: Psalm 131:1-2
• November 20: Philippians 4:6-7
• November 21: 1 Peter 5:7
• November 22: 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18
• November 23: Colossians 3:15
• November 24: Psalm 136:1-2
• November 25: Hebrews 12:28
• November 26: Psalm 100:4-5
• November 27: Ephesians 5:19-20
• November 28: Philippians 4:8
• November 29: Lamentations 3:21-23
• November 30: Hebrews 13:7-8

Illustration by Lan Truong. Bible verse illustration by Frieda Ruh. This article was originally titled “Stacking Stones in Barren Seasons” in the November 2026 issue of Peer.