But now I write. Whether here or in my journal. I know a sweet Godly lady from my Bible Study that one time told her story of journaling. I've never forgotten it. She is probably now in her 70's and she said that earlier in her life she started keeping journals. She would journal about her prayer requests and make short little entries about what was happening in her life at the time or in the lives of those she loved and was acquaninted with. After all these years, she had accumulated an entire wall of bookshelves full of journals! The most awesome thing about her story was that she could periodically go back through her journals and find one time after the other where God had changed lives and answered prayers!
I know that not many people really care what I write. It's not like I have many comments, followers, subscribers, etc... The blog world is full of well-written, hugely followed blogs so who needs my ramblings? I guess I do.
Lots of days when I'm struggling with past failures, bad decisions, or regrets over my unsightly actions, I write. You know the times when you are in dire need of some peace and quite and your children will not stop being children and that terrible look comes across your face, a big obnoxious sigh comes up and then you let it out, and you bark something like, "I wish I could have two seconds of peace and quite around here!" Yeah, I've actually said that.
When I'm beating myself up in a mental tug-of-war over how I handled a situation or just plain confused and lost on how to parent my children, I write.
Or when I become so angry with my husband that I totally lose control and act like some rabid animal that would scare the living daylights out of any creature {in front of my innocent children}.
And reading other people's experiences help me to figure it all out for the moment. It's amazing how when you think you are the ONLY one in the world 'feeling this way' there's always someone that has been there and is now on the other side of the emotional mountain. I land on those kinds of stories all the time. Not by coincidence. I know that.
If only I could realize before the loud 'bark' that if I wanted to live in a house that was perfectly organized, spotless, and quite I should really consider moving into a museum. There I could have perfect peace. I could also have miserable children who were afraid to 'live' in their 'home'.
Why oh why can't I remember that?!?!!!
Who knew being a parent could be so darn hard?!?! And that being married was a full-time job?!?! {With no vacation days:}
And then there's the lie from Satan that I'm not enough. The horrible insecurities that come from comparisons. And after I compare my life and every little detail of it to others that I see on blogs, Facebook, neighbors, friends, magazines, and people I don't even know from Adam, I begin to believe that lie. And then that's where the trouble comes in. When I believe the lie, it changes the way I see everything. I become discontent.
So then I turn my thoughts to the truth. I literally write it out.
Because 90% of who we are is what we think. Can you imagine? That is unreal to me. I'd say our thoughts are pretty powerful.
"Finally, brethren, whatever things are true, whatever things are noble, whatever things are just, whatever things are pure, whatever things are lovely, whatever things are of good report, if there is anything praiseworthy----meditate on these things. The things which you learned and received and heard and saw in me, these do, and the God of peace will be with you."
THINK GREAT THOUGHTS MY FRIENDS~
