I lost my journal.
It's not that I'm a prolific writer in my journal (I update it as often as I do this blog...), heavens no. In fact, it's because I have written in it so infrequently that I want it back so badly.
I received this journal as a Christmas gift my senior year of high school. My grandparents wrote that its purpose was to record the momentous occasions that I would face in my new year as a college student. My first entry was January 4, 2005.
This journal has lasted me almost four whole years. Four years of drama, thoughts, observations, and journey. Almost all of it was written when I was in a winter period of my life. In it are my justifications for going into ministry, my uncomfortability with it, and switch back into media as a career.
The most paralyzing thought is not "What if someone reads it?" but "Now I can't read it." I kept that journal to record my thoughts so that I would not forget events, feelings, and thoughts. I would remember what it's like to be confused about my career.
Through my journal, I can see the trends God has built into my life. I can remember the lessons he's taught me that I so quickly forget otherwise. And now it's gone. Possibly never to return.
Now, all I've got is this blog (and my long defunct Xanga that I'm not linking anyone to) to keep my lessons, thoughts, and memories. Not a good sign.
So, grieve, my friends. And write in your own journals. Use them well. Remember and learn from your own past. Because I can't. *sob*
(This inspiring post brought to you by my own self-pity....wah.)
4 comments:
...How did you lose it?
Losing bits and pieces of our past is hard to take... (Whether we feel like we're forgetting or we lose the memorabilia). Like the time one of my suitcases got run over by a semi. There went many precious pictures and memories.
*Hug* I'm sorry. :`( Is it in your room somewhere? I hope you find it!
~*~ Rad
I've found that sometimes, they lose themselves just to taunt you.
I hope it finds its way back to you.
that really stinks kemp; i'm sorry. during the summer i had found 4 of my journals (some full, some unfinished) in boxes with my name on it (from my parents move to CT). i opened them to read, but wished i hadn't; i almost threw them away or burned them, but decided to wait on it. maybe it's too soon? but something about you loosing yours makes me thankful i have mine...even if my past is a bit, erm..."splotchy"?
-jenny
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