I pulled an old box from the top shelf of the garage today. I was standing on the ladder thinking, "This is very bad. This box is probably 100 pounds. How in the world am I going to get it down the ladder?" Of course I did what any intelligent person would do, I gently slid it out and let it crash 10ft. to the ground. I didn't know there was glass in there. oops. Anyway, it was totally worth the broken glass.
In this box that I have not opened in the 4 years since we have lived in this house are my journals. I started journaling when I was probably 12 years old. I had a counselor at summer camp tell me that writing down my prayers was a great way to connect with God. I took her up on her idea, and have been journaling ever since.
100 pounds of journals. My most precious belongings. I am so glad I took the time to write everything down as a teenager. I'm glad I have my entire relationship with Rob chronicled from the first time he walked in my house when I was 12 until today. I am so glad I wrote down my thoughts and feelings the first years Rob and I shared in ministry. I learned so much in those days. So much I would most likely have forgotten otherwise. I am so glad I wrote about what it was like to be pregnant for the first time. Then, what it was like to see my daughter get a sister that we were sure was going to be a brother… And then one more sister. I'm so glad I wrote it all down.
I Can't wait to dig into the pile of journals tomorrow. And NO, you can't look at them. 🙂