I looked at leather-bound journals at Barnes & Noble the other day when we went in. The kids wanted to play there, to look at the books, to absorb the general atmosphere of one of their favorite places – and to visit the cafe for a sweet treat. I sat in front of the journals for what seemed like an eternity, weighing the colors, the textures, the feel of the books in my hands, and trying to envision what I would write in them.
“You’ve bought journal after journal for years, and you haven’t filled any.”
But the year I filled ten journals felt a bit like this year. I thought I would fill some last year. I could try again.
“You don’t have anything to say. You can’t justify the expense.”
None of the empty books inspired words to respond. I sighed. Maybe I would find a book someone else had written. I had no idea what I wanted, though. The inspirational section was “safe” – I didn’t want to deal with decisions. I prefer to read things other people recommend. Actually, I like my own writing.
I woke up this morning thinking that I’d make a good editor. I’m really good at going through others’ writing and calling out their character inconsistencies and their grammar and their storytelling ability. It’s one reason it’s so difficult for me to read others’ work. It has to be REALLY good for me to like it.
But my journals weren’t ever *really* good. They were just me, pouring out on paper.
“You don’t deserve to have a journal. You don’t have anything to say.”
I don’t have words. The voices are right. But I’m getting up in the morning. I am pushing through frustration and depression and existing, because sometimes that is all we are meant to do, just keep breathing, and that is worship and that is processing and that is what life looks like when you wait on God.
“You can always blog, if you have something to say.”
Yes, yes I can. And I have a whole bunch of journals with only a few pages filled, where I can scribble if I want. And maybe, if I find the right one, the one that has words for me when I see it, I will buy a new journal sometime.
Finding the right journal is hard and I’m picky too. The weight, the way the paper lays, and so forth.
And I just LOVE the photograph you included. Was it digital or film? It glistens.
It’s digital, Danielle – so fun that you asked!
I too have a bunch of unfinished journals. I bought a new journal for my birthday about 6 months ago and haven’t written in it for about two months. I do use my blog as a way to remember all that God is doing, but I wish I had the discipline of writing.