Who the hell locks a Note on their phone that already has a password + Face ID? Me. Me the hell. 02/01/23.
It’s morning. I’ve just woken up to pray and study my Bible. I pick up my phone and head to my latest worship playlist on Apple Music to pull me from the grip of sleep-land and wake me up fully.
Somehow, just somehow, I find myself in my Notes App. How did I get here? I remember… to journal while I pray. That’s alright. Adjusting on the sofa to worship, something tugs at my memory, and I search through my Notes to find a past journal entry.
That’s when I see it.
A locked Note. On my phone. A locked note on my phone??? Who the hell locks a note on their password and ID-protected phone? The Favour of 2019, obviously. I smile despite myself; the Favour of 2019 would be intrigued by the Favour of 2023. Would she even believe I finally became born-again?
Amused at what I could potentially find – because I have no idea what Favour ’19 had written that would need protection in this manner – I type in the password quickly.
It’s wrong. Hmm, that’s funny. The title of the note is only the date it was written, so that’s not even a good enough clue. I dig through my memory to remember what happened in 2019. What was so special that required a locked note? What was so precious to Favour ’19? Who was I in 2019?
I don’t know. I cannot remember. But I want to know.
I try another password, then another, and another. Even my Face ID is not working. Then I remember that this is not why I am here. I am supposed to be in fellowship right now with my Abba, but somehow, this thing has distracted me.
It’s been 5 minutes now. The problem is that I do not know how to let go. I cannot seem to focus on the worship music anymore. My brain is spinning, rummaging for a password I cannot remember creating, and I want to tear open my phone to retrieve whatever is written in the locked note.
This is another reason why I should be a tech sis.
I sigh. Then I turn to the One whose appointment I am already late for. ‘Jesus, help me remember. Please, Holy Spirit, help me remember. I know it is wrong, but if I don’t remember this password, I will not be able to concentrate as I pray. It is going to bug my mind. You know me. You know this is true. Time is going, and I need to pray now. I have not written this password anywhere. There is nowhere to look for it. I don’t know it. I cannot guess it. Lord, you know everything; tell me this one. Just tell me this one.’
I want to speak in tongues, but it feels a bit pretentious, like an act, so I refrain. But I continue to mutter the only words my heart felt were right, ‘Lord, help me remember.’
I sigh again. My entire being feels like I’ve been in the gym, even though I barely just woke up. I am tired. I hesitate at the password that my memory just brings to the fore. What if it is wrong? I’ve tried so many already. Will this one be right just because I prayed? Can God really tell me my password?
I quickly scatter the slowly mounting blocks of doubt and tap on the note again. The screen is occupied again with the little box demanding my password before granting me entry. I sneer, ‘Can’t you see I’m the owner?’ Holding my breath, I type in the password.
The note opens. The note opens!
I cannot believe my eyes. It worked! The Holy Spirit told me my password! I want to shout and dance, but it’s barely 6:30 am, and I wouldn’t want to wake up the entire house. If I ever doubted before, now I know that God not only knows everything, but He can tell me if I calm my heart to listen.
It is worthy of note that the content of the note is mildly disappointing, lol. But it is quite nostalgic to enter into the mind of Favour ’19 and see what she used to think, feel and know. Even bigger is the knowledge that this experience has birthed. That my God is a God is big and little things. He’s an all-rounder.
Jesus knows so I can know.
It’s time to pray.
P.S. – I later discovered that my Face ID was not working to open the note because the note was created and protected by my Touch ID at a time when I was using a previous iPhone with a Home button. Whew.