the reader remembers where you were. open Read and you land on the paragraph you left, not back at the table of contents. at the foot of every section there are now Previous and Next, so you can keep reading straight through without walking back out to the contents each time. today's two small guides belong to you now. swipe either one away or tap the close glyph, and Settings will bring it back whenever you want it. the press-and-hold hint bows out on its own once you have made your first highlight. the two promises open into rooms. tap privacy or accessibility and follow it down, path by path: where your journal lives, what travels when you talk to Grace and how long it is kept, what happens when you tap the mic. the words name the services doing the work instead of speaking in general terms.

the journal is easier to live in now. drag down to lower the keyboard without abandoning an entry, a forgiveness thread, search, or Grace's memory. focus, passage, memory, and returning-thread changes move more gently too, while Reduce Motion keeps them still when that's what you need. this is a small release for the place where writing happens. the two promises underneath it are unchanged: nothing is collected on our end, and every screen is built to be reached by everyone.

You can speak to Grace now, and hear her answer a word at a time — the same quiet room, in motion. the dictation is rebuilt to actually hear the Course's own words instead of mangling them. there's a journal that is Yours alone — write from a lesson, a passage, a reply of hers, or a blank page — with a forgiveness thread that comes back around only when You go looking for it, never before. the day's idea rests on Your Apple Watch and Your home screen now, silent, pull not push. nothing on either can be counted, streaked, or failed. and the promise underneath all of it is unchanged: nothing You do here is collected, tied to You, or sold — ever — and every screen is built to be reached by everyone. You can read both promises, plainly, in Settings. it was made as an act of service. a small door, left open.

Holy Instant now reads from the 1975 First Edition of the Course — a single, clear source, and a quieter place to sit with it. More is coming, and it will arrive the same way: one text at a time, each one with the blessing of the people who made it. Free, private, and nothing to buy. As it always was.

You can speak to Grace now. There's a microphone in the composer — say what's on your heart instead of typing it. Your voice is transcribed on this phone and never leaves it. Every passage Grace names is a door. Tap it and the Course opens there. And a handful of quiet repairs: the Appendices were unreachable and now aren't. Today's lesson can be marked and reflected on, like any other page. The Workbook is 365 lessons long, so you can find one by its number — or by the only part anyone actually remembers, like "I place the future in the hands of God."