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| From Off the Mark |
I am not a journaler. Is that even a word? It is now. I've done it years ago and while it may be interesting to look back and read them, i never have. I don't even have the time to read Facebook Statuses. So, reading journals of long ago are out.
About 4 years ago I sat down with someone who encouraged me to journal. So I bought one and started. Fast forward 2.5 years later (and only about 3 pages in the journal later) I wrote my list of 101 things and put this on it.
I did it to encourage me to finish the blasted thing. It hasn't worked. I've written some, taped in some worship songs that I love, and that's about it. As I think back when I made my list and put this on it, I think about how much has happened and how much I've grown. The things that stick out to me are my trials. The loss of my baby in my 2nd trimester. Matt and my financial struggles (he's a Realtor, need I say more?). Everything my journal contains are entries about these things.
I have loved writing about those things. However, I've learned something. "Finishing my journal" is arbitrary. I don't journal about every day things, but rather the bigger heavier things of life. Hopefully I won't have enough of those to fill up every single page of my journal.
And since the amount of pages I write is arbitrary, I'm checking this off. It's served its purpose of confirming that I'm not a journaler and never will be. I'm okay with that. I'll continue to write about things that touch me, things I'm learning in scripture studies, and struggles. But, I no longer care about filling up every page.
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I once took a one-night class on journaling. It was interesting. I learned lots--really! One big thing I learned is that your journal need not be anyting like a diary. The gal leading the group showed us awesome examples of day-by-day life that had been jotted down, pasted in, angrily scribbled, drawn with vivid color crayon, or written beautiful in poetry. It was cool. She just put everything in there. If she needed a phone number, and remembered that she'd originally met that person at certain cafe on the same day her sister had her baby, she could flip back through her journals and find the number. It might be jotted down between a cute cocktail napkin she'd glued in and big words written in colorful crayon saying: Lilly's A Mommy! I love, love, loved it--and thought it was the perfect approach for an ADD person like myself! However, my journal now sits near death in my bedside drawer with only two little entries. *sigh* Maybe I'll pick it up again now. :-)
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