JOURNALING

I wrote my first Journal entry on Sept. 28, 1997.  Today, I got out my Journals and started reading almost 21 years of memories.  Good memories, bad memories, weddings,  divorces, deaths, travels, private thoughts, hopes and dreams.   

The entries usually began describing the weather, where I had been that particular day, and what had recently impacted my life – both good and bad.  I didn't necessarily write daily.  Sometimes there would be daily entries and then again, sometimes it would be weeks or even months before I would take my pen again.  Journaling is not intended to be perfect in script, phrasing and grammar and as I read mine, I saw every misspelled or crossed out words and recognized how harsh some of the things I wrote may sound to the average reader.   

But in the big scheme of things, it doesn't matter how, what or why things are written, but what's important is that at the time it was written, it was heavy or happy on my heart, depending on the circumstances surrounding the words I needed to share with myself.  Sacred thoughts, private moments, memories, heartaches, sadness's, and especially joyful or proud moments in my life that for whatever reason needed to be written for someone, someday to read.  Perhaps it will give a true picture of one who, try as she may, could never seem to get it right, but struggled daily.   

One particular sweet time during my years of journaling reminded me of the humble experience of "feet washing."  If you've never experienced a time in your life when you felt so completely unworthy, then you've never had your feet washed by friends with whom you have opened your heart for love freely given.  It came without prejudice, without judgement, and with the selfless and unconditional love of friends.   I have tucked away in my journal, the little index cards that were given to me that day by my friends in our prayer group with their expressions of what reflected in me.  What a treasure and blessing to read!   I'm not saying they were right in their assumption, but what I am saying is that I have never experienced such humble gratitude as I did on that day as we gathered with the brilliance of sunshine through stained glass windows.  I hope I haven't let them down.   Life isn't easy.  It isn't fair and it's a rocky, uphill path every day, but my journals remind me to be thankful for all the good things in my life.   I would encourage anyone to start a practice of journaling.  It doesn't have to be a fancy book with polished grammar and spell checked words.  Just let it be you, In Your Own Words.  Someday it will be priceless!