Ecclesiastes 7:10 – Today’s Verse for March 14, 2025 Friday

“Say not thou, What is the cause that the former days were better than these? for thou dost not enquire wisely concerning this.“
— Ecclesiastes 7:10 KJV

Reflection on Today's Verse

It’s easy to look back and think things used to be better. We do it all the time. We remember the past through a filter—only the good parts, not the struggles. Maybe life felt simpler, people seemed kinder, or faith felt stronger.

But God tells us not to dwell on that. Why? Because it’s not wise. The past isn’t coming back, and longing for it can steal today’s peace. Every season has its troubles. Every time has its blessings. The same God who was with us then is with us now.

God doesn’t want us stuck in what was. He wants us to trust Him with what is. Instead of looking back with longing, we can look up with faith. The best days aren’t behind us if we walk with Him. The best days are wherever He is leading next.

Personal Prayer

Dear Father, You are the God of every moment—past, present, and future. Sometimes I find myself longing for what used to be, believing that life was better back then. But You remind me that this kind of thinking is not wise.

Help me to trust You with today. Open my eyes to the blessings around me instead of the ones I think I’ve lost. Give me a heart that sees Your goodness in every season, not just in the memories I cherish.

I know You are always at work. You are not just the God of my past; You are the God of my now. Help me to walk forward with faith, knowing that my best days are the ones spent with You.

In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Author

Alona
Alona Smith writes like she sketches—quick strokes, bold colors, no eraser. She ran a small-town art studio before VerseForTheDay invited her to swap charcoal for chapters, yet paint still flecks her keyboard. Dawn finds her barefoot on the porch, swirling watercolors across a travel Bible, letting sunrise seep into the margins. Neighbors wave as she bikes to the farmers’ market, basket rattling with sunflowers and Psalms scribbled on kraft-paper price tags.Alona trusts that Scripture behaves like clay: press your palms in, and a vessel appears where empty air once lived. Afternoon workshops with foster teens prove the point; they mold hope into coffee mugs, then watch steam carry it forward.Diplomas? Only framed sketches of hands lifted in worship. Awards? A dog-eared gratitude list taped to her fridge. Open her reflections when cynicism scratches—she’ll slide a brush into your grip and show you light hiding in the smear of everyday color.