Ghosts are just demons in disguise.
There are scarrs I wish weren't there. Scarrs that I'd like to forget. They ache on cold days in the early hours. I know they serve a purpose. These are tombstones left in the wake of burnt bridges and crushed idols. Porcelain fractured under the boot of a merciful God who has delivered me from my vain delusions for the sake of His glory and for my good. The temptation is to let this demon of regret linger. To give it company. This would be a mistake.
The past is exactly where it belongs.
By the grace of God I have been delivered from my decisions into a life I neither deserve nor expected.
I thank Christ, my Creator, for the joy set before me. How sweet is the mercy of the Lord.