30 & Thriving, Alledgedly

So there’s a woman called Amara. Four days before she turns thirty, someone asks her - not unkindly, which somehow makes it worse - whether she actually believes God is real.

She has a job. A flat. A birthday dinner already booked. On paper she is thriving. Allegedly.

She doesn’t have an answer, so she does what any reasonable woman does at eleven at night with a question in her chest. She goes looking for an old journal.

What she finds is over 20 years of her own handwriting, most of it wrong about how things would turn out, all of it kept by Someone who was there anyway.

That’s the book. It’s short. It’s honest about doubt, which means it’s honest about faith, because the two are roommates and always have been. You’ll recognise yourself somewhere around chapter six, and you’ll be a little annoyed about it.

Read it slowly. There’s a journal in the back for when you start recognising your own handwriting in hers.