I love to write. Most of my writings are contained within the pages of various journals I’ve collected throughout the years. Some of my writings are saved in Word documents, or in the Note app on my phone, or on random pieces of paper throughout the house. I am so disorganized when it comes to keeping track of my thoughts. When something hits me as noteworthy, I just grab the nearest journal, piece of paper, or electronic device to get it outta my head before it flies away, never to be seen again.
I’ve got one particular journal that I’ve grown very fond of. It’s the perfect size and the line spacings are just right. It’s got a pretty pattern on the leather (well, fake leather) cover. But beyond its specs, I am fond of it because it tells a story of a girl desperate to know her God in Heaven better.
Well, it technically starts off as a place where I was jotting down my ideas for a project, of sorts, that I wanted to do and the book I wanted to write once the experiment was finished… but then I officially turned it into a prayer journal on February 17, 2013. It is beyond-words-amazing to go back and read the things that were going on in my life, mind, and heart poured out onto the pages, and seeing now how God answered those prayers in the most perfect ways. I love reading through the pages and seeing how He honored my seeking. I’ve found the words in Jeremiah 29:13 to be incredibly true when God says, “If you look for Me wholeheartedly, you will find Me.” (NLT)
This journal has a lot of date gaps in it, and it’s in seeing those gaps that I kick myself for not being more organized in keeping all of my writings in one place. I would have to rip apart and re-glue all of the journals on my shelf to get my writings in proper chronological order and get a better picture of the story unfolding as my days keep coming and going with the sun.
I thought the first entry in this journal was February 17, 2013. But when I got to the last page, I found an entry dated February 15, 2013. Apparently I needed to write and this journal was the closest thing to me, but I didn’t want to write this entry in the middle of my project/experiment/book planning so I flipped to the last page of it. Though most of my journal entries will remain private (at least until my death, then when I am gone I assume my family will want to read through the pages), I do know I will share some of them with you on here. This first entry, that is ironically positioned as the last entry of this completed journal, is one I feel compelled to share:
“When I feel inadequate

Leave a comment