I dont journal often (which you can probably tell from this blog, because I dont often update this thing either -- mainly because I only like to share interesting things and I generally dont have a lot of time to waste on this). But most people like to journal. Especially Christians. They like to journal and keep journals and talk about journaling. I mean, I think its a really awesome tool to process whats going on in the mind, emotions, what you've read in Scriptures, all of that. And I have many brothers and sisters that have grown, been encouraged and benefitted immensely from journaling...
But ... confession: I love Jesus, but I dont really like to journal.
Frankly, I'd rather sit down with a cup of coffee and just think through things. Its a bit more efficient. I've tried before to be disciplined and diligent about journaling but I generally get side-tracked: I'll write about 3 sentences and then I'll get lost in my thoughts and I'm left with something incoherent on the page and then I think about how one day if anyone reads through this thing, they'll be left with thoughts of "wtf. Did she ever resolve this?" (and then judge me for all the things that I struggle with and bothered to share via written word).
So again, I rarely journal. When I do, its normally because I am just so over-emotional and have so much on my mind, I cant sort it out without writing it down. (It usually has to do with boy situations, but today I journaled because I've had some pent up anger and stress and had to figure out with how to deal with being offended by some folks). After I finished writing, I was thinking that I actually couldnt remember the last time I journaled. So, I flipped back the page.
The last journal entry was 7/31/10, more than a year ago, right before moving up to Louisville to start at U of L:
"... I am scared to leave [dallas]. I am sad to leave. This unknown -- Louisville, KY -- I dont know that I want to go. I dont know that I even want this stupid Masters. Why do I hate change? Why am I not embracing it?
I am fearing failure. And I have to start all over again.
I dont want to go."
It made me smile. Just yesterday, I told a professor's wife that I wish my Masters program here lasted an additional two years because I love it so much. I have learned so so much. This city is so neat, and I have made lifelong friends here: one, being the first person I met as soon as I set foot on campus, who is now my roommate and one of my best friends. Louisville, in a short amount of time, has gone from being an unknown fear to a second home.
I dont journal often, and I dont think that'll ever change. But I'm certainly thankful for the reminders and surprises it keeps for me to find and look back on: to remember from where I've come, how far I've grown, and how freeing and encouraging it is to just trust that there is indeed a great plan unfolding for me.
And for that, I am thankful.