Live to Write, Write to Live

Note: this blog was originally written on 09/17/07

I won't lie: I might get pretty honest here. So be aware if I get too intense or emotional.... It's 3 AM; late night ramblings tend to be very vulnerable.

So I love pouring through old journals. It's interesting to see what my thoughts, hopes and dreams were 2, 3, or even 5 years ago. I love to read funny incidents I had forgotten about, to remember big plans that I was so gung-ho about but then dropped a week later, shake my head at the stupid mistakes I made, and to truly see how God has changed my life.

A wannbe writer, I used to journal a lot. I have countless beat-up notebooks, fancy journals, and even yellow legalpads covered with my words. No huge thought, feeling or story was ever left undocumented. Going through them all plays out my own personal home movie; it's great to rediscover my past.

As I was looking through some of my old journals recently, I realized something I guess I already knew but hadn't let myself think much about. Two years ago, I had quit writing. For someone who expresses her desire to be a writer, I literally had no desire to write anymore. And it's not because there were no great stories or announcements to share, but rather it was the direction my life had taken. I didn't want to document it.

Perhaps someday in another writing, in another blog, in another story, I will share the part of my life I didn't want to recall; however, what I will say tonight is that the past 2 years without a doubt have been the greatest refining process of my life. I've seen the good and bad of human nature, I've walked through the greatest pains I've ever faced, and I had a constant mirror placed before me that magnified my flaws and frailities.

However, now with a little time away, a little time for healing, a little bit of reflection, I realize how amazingly faithful my God is to me. Maybe I never journaled the experiences that hung upon me for so long, but I lived them in an entirely deep, vast and intense way. So while I never physically wrote them down, those memories are still etched within me and not in a paralyzing kind-of-a-way but rather that I have a hopeful story to tell in how God pulled me through.

I find myself wanting to write more and more these days. So be prepared.... Words may follow.