Previous to writing a blog, I kept a personal journal. In the past, a few of my writings have found their way into my blog. Though it would not be in my best interest to "publish" much of my journal. When I started my journal writing it was at a time in my life when I was discontented, feeling alone and wanted something, but I didn't know what. In short, I was depressed.One night I awoke unable to sleep and moved to the living room couch so I wouldn't wake up my husband. Picking up a book that a counselor had loaned me, I continued reading about symptoms I was experiencing. Realizations from this book made me very unsettled. So much so, that I was in tears by the end of the book. I opened my Bible and began to read a random New Testament scripture. The verses I read were so much what I needed that I knew without a doubt, it was a message straight from God to me. In that early morning hour, in an almost blank journal, I recorded the scripture and how it applied to me. I would return to that night's journal entry many times over the next year.
One winter when our sons were nearing adulthood, my husband and I traveled with our church group to ski in Colorado. Only I was not going to ski, but rather use the time to be alone. While everyone else was skiing, I planned to meditate and ponder my existence; or at least ponder my faith and whether God still loved me. I had just started reading the first of many Max Lucado books I would eventually digest, "No Wonder They Call Him Savior". That was such an inspirational reading experience for me. The feeling that my spiritual life was taking on changes was apparent, like realizing for the first time the true impact of Jesus' sacrifice, and that He still loved me.
The real journal writing began on that ski trip during my time of recluse. First of all our surroundings were perfect for a time of solitude. Set in front of snow-caped mountains among tall evergreens, the retreat was away from any busy-ness and city noise. A chilly gurgling river ran down the center of the resort separating the dining hall from the living quarters. Despite the cold temperatures, no snow had fallen upon our arrival. Disappointed at first, by the time we went to bed that night, we were hearing that snow was on the way.
The first night we slept out in the common room of the boys' dorm. The following morning
our group of skiers decided to head to the ski slopes in spite of the absence of white stuff on the grounds. Content to be alone, I was settling into the now quiet dorm to read when I got word that a cabin with a private room had become available. All by myself, I hastened to move our bags to the cabin.
The cabin was more than I had expected. There was a large picture window, a warm living room outfitted like a small first apartment, and a cozy bedroom. This was the perfect place to read and since Kim had brought his laptop, it was also the perfect place to write a description of this beautiful place. Out of clear radio range, most stations were a flurry of static. Tuning the dial, I hit on the only coherent channel, which was of all things, a contemporary Christian music station. I settled myself in front of the picture window at a table where I could type my journal entry on the computer. While Christian music played on the radio, cold temperatures lingered outside. Warm and cozy inside, I was poised to write my thoughts. After typing for a while, I stretched my arms up and looking out the window saw feathery white snowflakes drifting to the ground. At first they were light and few in number. The longer it continued to snow, the bigger and more active the flakes descended to the ground, sticking one upon the other until the whole ground was a blanket of white. It was beautiful! Having lived the majority of my life in Southeast Texas, this cold precipitation was captivating to watch. My original piece of writing now took on a different conversation as I felt sure that God had sent the private cabin, the Christian radio station and this beautiful snowfall just for me.
Returning home from the ski trip, I felt rejuvenated and intent on continuing my Bible reading, study, and journal writing. At home I often wrote in my journal filed within my own computer. Over the next decade, although not daily, I wrote much about happenings in my life, both sad and joyous.
Somewhere along the way amid transition from a desktop computer to a laptop and discovering the "Blogworld", I stopped recording my thoughts in a private journal. Using a computer to write has freed me from pen and paper allowing my thoughts to flow freely and more natural. That liberates me to think about my words and not my writing. Although, my blog entries are not exactly what I'd write in a private journal, it has allowed me to continue to record stories, thoughts and events in my life. The drawback with writing on a blog instead of my own personal journal is that I learned the hard way, that I must be very careful what I put out on the Internet. It surprises me when someone tells me that they read my blog. One time, in an angry state of mind, I authored a metaphoric story that I thought vague enough that no one would understand except perhaps my close friends. Suffice it to say, it got unwanted attention.
Credit perhaps should be given to my growing computer skills for this transition from a penned personal journal to blogging on the Internet. Although, I must admit that there is a certain appeal to clean crisp paper bound in leather and a brand new ink pen. The idea tempts me to ponder the thought of actual writing again...for my personal memoirs of course. An intriguing thought for sure and one I will consider each time I see a blank journal waiting for my words.
